Dream of Legends

by Stephen Zimmer

  Ayenwatha nodded, and turned quickly to explain the situation to the others with him. Confused expressions met him as he began to address the exiles, and the looks did not entirely leave their faces when he finished.

  “To Midragard?” asked Antonio in apparent disbelief. “We’ll be leaving your people behind?”

  Ayenwatha watched the paunchy young man look over at the rough-looking assemblage of Midragardan warriors nearby. Ayenwatha had to remind himself that while he was entirely at ease with the Midragardans, it was not surprising that one who was very unfamiliar with the fierce southern warriors could react with such outward anxiety.

  “Then what will happen with you? Or your people?” Erika asked, her voice demonstrating that she was much more concerned than nervous.

  Ayenwatha smiled kindly at the tough young woman, appreciating her regard for his people and himself. “Who can know the future? Who can say what will happen when a new day rises? I must go to seek help for my people, and you must be safeguarded from danger. My people can no longer offer you any refuge.”

  “Then why should we not fly with you?” the brooding, dark-haired one named Logan asked.

  “Eirik speaks truly,” Ayenwatha replied. “A long flight such as this is very dangerous. The steeds will be very hard pressed, and not in a great enough number that we can resist a concentrated attack. No, we will be very vulnerable, and the risk of taking you through the skies is far too great. I must take this risk myself, as I seek to return quickly to my people. But this is no journey for you. We must take all precautions, in getting you to Midragard without harm.”

  Logan scowled in the wake of Ayenwatha’s answer, and his brow furrowed.

  “So what is it with us? There is something about us that you know, and are not saying. Am I right?” he asked sharply.

  “You are,” Derek said abruptly to Logan, before turning towards Ayenwatha. “You wish to take no risks with us, and take such great cautions, when your own people are under such a terrible plight. Why? What compels you to do this?”

  Ayenwatha looked slowly from Logan to Derek, holding their unwavering gazes for a few moments, and then glanced towards the rest of the exiles.

  “I cannot lie to you,” he said. “I do not know for sure about such things, as they are mysterious to me, but it is just possible that you may be the ones who have been foreseen.”

  “Foreseen? You mean prophesied?” Mershad asked, his tone full of obvious incredulity.

  Mershad was not alone in his reaction, as Ayenwatha could see that the others viewed the notion as preposterous.

  “In the book of the new religion,” interjected Eirik. “I have heard such things spoken of by priests and monks. It is always said that we should look out for those who come from another world.”

  “What does this … book … say?” Logan inquired slowly, his face somber, and his curiosity clearly piqued. He eyed Eirik and Ayenwatha with great expectancy.

  “I do not read, so I have not read this book for myself,” Eirik replied. “I only know what has been spoken of by those who can. It speaks of the end times, an End of Days, and the coming of those from a very foreign land, understood to be a different world.”

  “It is not unlike some legends of our own,” Ayenwatha then added. “These tales speak of many signs. I remember little of the stories that I have heard in my youth regarding this, but I have heard some of the tales of this book of the new religion more recently. They speak of many strange things. They speak of those who will come from another world, who will break the barriers between worlds. They will help to bring about the power of the One Spirit, the Sky Lord, as we see the Creator, into this world … to undo the work of evil. It is said that a new, undying age will then come.”

  “These stories also speak of the great threat of Jebaalos, the Dark Ruler of the Abyss,” Eirik then commented bluntly. “All the legends are clear that those who come from another world must not be claimed by Jebaalos. It is said that Jebaalos will tirelessly hunt them down, to control them for His own purposes.”

  The words were plainly not the ones that the outlanders wanted to hear. Ayenwatha could see that reflected in their subdued, tense expressions in the wake of Eirik’s words, as well as the lightened pallor that came to more than one of their faces.

  While they might find it entirely incomprehensible to believe that they could have specifically been prophesied, Ayenwatha could see the dilemma that they were facing. He could see they understood that if others merely believed such a thing, that they were the result of a prophecy, then they would still have to deal with the consequences.

  In such a context, Ayenwatha certainly could not blame them for their trepidation. The daunting idea that a dark ruler of the abyss would be actively searching for them, and assiduously endeavoring to take hold of them, was no doubt more than unsettling.

  “So you think that the prophecy is really talking about … us?” Kent asked hesitantly.

  “Who can say? It is said that no man knows of the time when the All-Father will manifest His Power in the world again, to bring an end to this world. I have even heard it said that even Emmanu Himself did not know when this moment would occur,” Eirik said in a lowered voice.

  “I have known no others such as you,” Ayenwatha told the exiles. “I cannot say that you are here because of these prophetic visions. But I also cannot say that you are not. I also do know that it would be unwise to think that I know for certain that you are not. The consequences of being wrong are far too terrible to imagine, and I will not take any risks.”

  “Well, I’m not part of any prophecy, nor do I ever want to be,” Janus said, a sharp edge of resentment in his voice. “I never asked for any of this, not for a moment.”

  “Nor did my people,” Ayenwatha replied gently. “What is … still is.”

  Janus abruptly looked downward, and cursed under his breath. Ayenwatha could see that the man felt ashamed for speaking so suddenly.

  “It is okay, Janus. There are times when none of us want what is given to us in this life. They say that the Sky Lord has reasons for all things, but I do not believe that the Sky Lord chooses ill for some of us,” Ayenwatha replied. “The world must take its course, whatever course that may be. It means that great evil can exist. It means terrible things can happen unexpectedly. It also means that great good can exist, and great good can happen unexpectedly too.”

  “And I, for one, will fight to defend what is good,” Eirik interjected.

  “And I will too,” Janus added gently, nodding his agreement with Eirik.

  “What else do these prophecies say?” Mershad then questioned.

  “You will have to ask one of the priests,” Eirik replied with a shrug. “I only know a little. I know that King Hakon believes that our situation is very serious. I know also that you would not wish to be taken captive by the Unifier.”

  “What do you wish to do?” Ayenwatha asked the exiles suddenly.

  Eirik was about to comment, but held back, keeping silent at a brief, forceful gesture from Ayenwatha.

  The seven otherworlders looked back at Ayenwatha, apparently taken off guard by the bluntness of the question. Gradually, they started to look at each other, and Ayenwatha knew that they were realizing that none of them had any other viable alternative to offer for deliberation. He wanted them to come to that conclusion on their own.

  “It is a choice to go nearer to a war, or to go away from one,” Mershad remarked in a low voice.

  Being that he was one of the quietest of the exiles, Ayenwatha was a little surprised that he had ventured the first opinion. Janus then clenched his teeth, with a look that reflected some unspoken realization that had taken place inside of him.

  Janus queried in a voice that was just above a whisper, “Choice? Do any of Ayenwatha’s people have the choice that we have?”

  “There is no choice for Ayenwatha’s people,” Derek stated somberly. “But we could take our chances in the Five Realms with them. I am fine with
either decision. There is no guarantee of safety anywhere in this world for us.”

  Ayenwatha gazed at Janus, seeing the turmoil swirling in his eyes. The image contrasted greatly with the look of curiosity and excitement that had graced his countenance when he had accompanied Ayenwatha on the Brega steeds to the tribal villages.

  Ayenwatha had little doubt that Janus would indeed be willing to face whatever the tribal people were made to face, even if that meant destruction. It was not the conclusion that Ayenwatha was hoping for.

  “Then I want to stay with Ayenwatha’s people. I will gladly take my chances with them,” Janus announced in a steady voice, to Ayenwatha’s chagrin.

  “I wish to go to Midragard. I cannot lie to myself, or to any of you,” Mershad said, though he averted his gaze from meeting Ayenwatha as he spoke. “I will go wherever everyone else goes, but I say that we go onward to Midragard.”

  Ayenwatha respected Mershad’s honesty, knowing that it was not cowardice to speak one’s true feelings. He looked over towards those that had not yet spoken.

  “I don’t mind going to Midragard,” Kent muttered quickly, glancing over at Mershad first, and then looking to the rest of his comrades. “What about all of you?”

  Only Antonio, Erika, and Logan remained.

  “I’m with Logan, whatever he feels,” Antonio said, shrugging his shoulders, as if resigned to the winds of chance. “He’s my friend, and I will go where he goes. I already have lost enough in coming to this world, and I’m sure as hell not going to lose my closest friend.”

  “And it does not matter what I think, I am sure,” Logan stated a little abrasively. A slight glare came to his eyes, as he looked around at the others. “And it does not really matter what any of us think. We will be going where we are pulled to go. We certainly can’t set off all by ourselves. You all know that. Better to get that out right now. I’m sure we will be told where we will be going soon enough.”

  Erika looked to Ayenwatha, who was listening intently to each of their answers. Hers was the final response.

  “I would stay with your people too, Ayenwatha,” she stated with resonant conviction. “Even if others think that would be a crazy decision. But I have one question for you…. What choice by us would help you the most, Ayenwatha?”

  Her gaze searched his face, as she listened patiently for his answer.

  Ayenwatha’s own eyes threatened to tear for a fleeting moment, as he looked to her, Janus, and Derek. He felt a deep wave of emotion roll over him at their brave, generous replies, expressing willingness to go back to the tribal lands. He was moved by the gestures, even if he found them to be foolhardy, given what they were all facing.

  His eyes roved among the three particular exiles as he responded. “It would be my true wish to see all of you safe in Midragard. If you are the ones spoken of by these prophecies and tales, then everything possible must be done to keep you away from the Unifier. If you are not the ones spoken of, then you would still have a greater chance of being kept from the Unifier’s grasp by sending you to Midragard. Either way, this path to Midragard is the best choice for you to take, and the better one regarding my own hopes for you. I would not have to worry myself over your fate, if I knew you were there. I say to you truly, going to Midragard is what I would want for you to do.”

  He then looked towards Logan, and fixed him with a level stare.

  “And know that the choice is truly yours. After I return from my own journey to Midragard, I will take you back with me to the tribal lands, if that is the choice you should make,” Ayenwatha added.

  After a long moment of silence, the others began to look to each other. As if something unspoken passed among them, they gradually began to nod to each other.

  Erika finally replied to Ayenwatha, as if speaking for the entire group. “From what I see here, we will choose to do as you wish. We choose to go to Midragard, if that is what you truly want for us.”

  Ayenwatha smiled at her, grateful and relieved that they had assented to his own hopes, of their own accord.

  The others quietly watched Ayenwatha, as he turned to speak to Eirik. “Then it is time for us to go, Eirik. You will have to take a moment for some instruction, as my warriors do not know the particular ways of your steeds.”

  Eirik nodded, though not before glancing towards Erika, Derek, and Janus. He also spared a noticeably separate glance towards Antonio. Ayenwatha understood the look, and recognized the sincere respect in Eirik’s eye towards the four exiles, though the Midragardan did not give voice to any of the sentiments he was feeling.

  “Then we must tell your warriors about our steeds,” Eirik replied evenly to Ayenwatha. “Though you will not find them too unfamiliar from the Brega of your own lands. Who is to go?”

  Ayenwatha looked to each of his warriors, who one by one acknowledged his glance with slight nods of their own.

  “All of the warriors here will go with me,” Ayenwatha finally answered.

  Eirik then had the tribal warriors gather around him, and guided them towards one of the nearby Fenraren. He spent some time speaking with Ayenwatha’s warriors, being the only one that could really do so, as he was one of the few Midragardans present that could adequately speak the language of the Five Realms.

  He told them of the special commands, both verbal and physical, for handling the Fenraren. The verbal commands were in the Midragardan tongue, so Eirik had the tribal warriors repeat the instructions back to him several times, making sure of their pronunciation and memorization. Ayenwatha knew that it was vital that the tribal warriors remembered everything exactly, on the chance that they were disrupted or dispersed at some point during their lengthy travel.

  At the end of the instruction, Ayenwatha and his warriors mounted their new steeds. They were given some extra time to adjust to the markedly different form of saddle and harness. Ayenwatha had to admit that he was much more comfortable with the more sparse arrangement that the tribal people employed upon the Brega.

  Ayenwatha then bid the exiles well, fully confident that he was leaving them in good keeping. They would be underway soon enough, embarking upon a sea voyage that would take them to far less threatened environs in the distant south. All of the exiles exchanged farewells with him, each in their own way.

  Janus was the last to approach Ayenwatha.

  “I am sorry for speaking so quickly, Ayenwatha,” Janus said in a low, apologetic voice that was meant for his ears alone. “I want you to know that I would have gladly stayed with your people.”

  “I know that you would have,” Ayenwatha replied, giving him a smile. “But you stay safe, for me. I would be much happier that way.”

  “As best I can,” Janus replied, before backing slowly away.

  All of those standing around them on the ground cleared back several paces, creating a wide berth for the Onan and Midgardan warriors mounted upon the Fenraren.

  Once a wide path was made, at a command from Eirik, the foremost of the riders spurred their steeds into motion. The Fenraren spread their wings broadly, and began loping forward. After a few initial, easy strides, the creatures bounded vigorously across the ground for several paces before leaping upwards. Their wings snapped out and downward with great power, lifting both creature and rider up into the air.

  Ayenwatha followed in the wake of Eirik and a few other Midragardans, feeling the sensation of flight take hold as his steed began its ascent. The rest of the group, both Midragardan and Onan alike, followed behind.

  In a very short time, those watching them from the ground looked like mere specks. The island soon became an aberrant patch of brown and green within the glistening waters of the sea, limned with ephemeral streaks of white, where waves crashed down upon its shoreline.

  Ayenwatha settled into the saddle, making himself more comfortable as the formation of Fenraren moved away from the island. Starting off at a modest pace across the seas, they began their journey towards the Midragardan lands lying to the far south.

&nb
sp; Ayenwatha had never set his eyes upon the storied lands of Midragard, and despite the circumstances, a part of him felt a little thrill of adventure about the impending journey. Yet at the same time, the reason they were taking him to Midragard were never out of mind, even for a moment.

  His heart remained in the lands that he was leaving behind, in the hands of his people, but he knew that he had a chance to gain aid for them. King Hakon had responded swiftly, as Ayenwatha had thought that the Midragardan king would.

  Ayenwatha had no idea as to what to expect when he arrived in Midragard. Having heard a few of their epic stories, a part of his mind was fed by wild imaginings of mythic warriors and fantastical creatures of lore.

  He could not be certain about anything, but he did know that he was going to an audience with someone who had eyes to see, and ears to hear; to Ayenwatha’s view, that fact alone represented more than enough of a hope.

  *

  JANUS

  *

  A pair of rather uneventful days had passed on the small island since Eirik, Ayenwatha, and the others had left upon the incredible, wolf-like sky steeds. The seven exiles were patiently awaiting the arrival of a pair of Midragardan longships, which were to take them to Midragard itself. The ships were said to be coming from the north, and that was the direction in which their eyes were often turned, in hopeful anticipation.

  Janus largely kept to himself as they waited for the expected longships. He found himself often walking down to the water’s edge and looking out to sea, staring off towards the empty horizon. More than once he believed that he saw something in the distance, only to discover that there was nothing approaching the island. Whether the occasional sights were mirages or something of substance, they were certainly not what he was looking for.

  With Ayenwatha and the tribal warriors gone, what little familiarity Janus had with the new world had been carried off on the wings of the Fenraren. A decline in familiarity was one of the last things that he needed at the moment, feeling alone enough as it was.