by Susi Wright
CHAPTER 24
Cruel Fate
The large chamber was dark except for the flickering of a few oil lamps mounted on the cold granite walls. The still, silent forms of fifty armoured warriors were highlighted as their ranks stood to attention in a circle facing a raised dais. There, surrounded by the guards, knelt a bruised and beaten prisoner, bound by the hands, bare-chested and clothed in a simple loincloth. It was not a soldier here on trial – the traditional tattoo of a born artist was visible between his shoulder blades. Nevertheless, his chin jutted defiantly as he faced his captor on the high seat of judgment, looming above him.
The prisoner’s pain-filled eyes flicked from the scorching blue stare of the dark lord, who had been inflicting internal torture for the last hour, to the beautiful blonde haired woman at his side, who was also awaiting punishment for her dalliance with him. Her brilliant violet eyes held the vivid memory of their first meeting within these palace walls. He was a captive, taken during the razing of his home, the city of Senos, one full-moon ago, brought to Salmat palace and set to serving at the lord’s high table. He was a lowly human slave, just like the hundreds of others that had been taken from their homes during the Aquisition. She was a high-born lady of the palace household, one of the lord’s favourites. But something magical had sparked between them, across their diverse origins. They had instantly fallen in love, contrary to convention and totally forbidden by unseen forces. They believed nothing could thwart the course of their true love.
Consequently, despite endless attempts at mental-cloaking and every effort to secrecy by both of them, it had been impossible to hide from the infallible percipience of this powerful lord and his edict. And here they were. Her beloved would certainly die for it! She wished for the same escape, to fly free with him to the next Existence, where neither race nor position, nor jealousy, separated souls. But she suspected there was quite a different fate awaiting her right here, in this one. Full of sadness, but also defiant in the face of pain, present or future, her eyes searched those of her lover, eruditely conveying her undying love, a love which would stretch far beyond mortal life. Those few seconds of uplifting emotion and the vision of his beloved Saria were his last, as bidden by a silent command, one of the guards stepped forward and ended his life with one blow of agronite-enhanced steel.
The deadly swish of the blade, the only sound in this cold cruel hall as it took her lover’s life, spotted her ivory silk gown with dozens of precious red droplets as if his very essence refused to leave her. Covering her eyes with shaking hands, she crumpled to her knees, the heavy silence only now broken by her lonely, wracking sobs as they echoed in the emotionless space. But no sound, however loud, could have blocked out the delivery of her own punishment by this compelling lord. They had all believed he would lead them to a new life. Outside of the warrior-army that were unquestionably his thralls, the other clan members who had not borne witness to this execution were still under this delusion. This personal tragedy had bared the truth to her alone – this was not a life worth living! Grinding like steel on stone, betrayal and punishment came as one in the issue of a powerful edict, stabbing and twisting in her already broken heart, though not a word was spoken.
In two days time, you, Lady Saria. . . . will marry me!
CHAPTER 25
Separation
The flying lesson went well. Serafina took to it like a fully-fledged swan. Using a borrowed feather cloak, she fearlessly launched herself into the air, following Xandor’s lead, using the onshore breeze to the beach. Still nursing guilt for his earlier off-handedness and well aware that this would be the last day they would spend together, he wished yet again that his perceptive powers were stronger. Her eyes had been a little puffy when she had emerged from her cabin ready to depart, but there hadn’t been much time for crying and she appeared to have pulled herself together quite quickly. He was relieved there had been no melodrama. Looking at her physical condition, the only cuts that were visible on her arms and neck seemed to be healing inordinately well. This was a good sign that, even unaware as she still was, her own abilities might be developing to assist the healing process. A few surreptitious glances in her direction, as she flew abreast of him nearer to shore, revealed that she was visibly calm, even laughing with excitement at the novel experience of flight. He had thought she would be more upset, though in reality it was better for her this way. The guilt had lifted but he could not shake the contrary trace of selfish disappointment that still lingered.
Serafina had always been unaware of her power to mask emotions, though at this moment there was nothing to hide. A gift of her unknown heritage, the mental-cloaking skill had come to her without tutelage, just as her other talents had developed in an unusual way, out of a necessity to survive. Until recently, ignorance in these arts had absolved her of blame for using her magic in dubious ways. The future would be different, full of the good she would do. Exciting – just like flying! Her freedom had given her spirit wings. The healing power of hope swelled in her heart. Even the knowledge that her angel was about to leave her could not dampen her mood, because she had complete faith that, despite any words of denial, he would in fact return to her. They belonged together! She would wait – after all, she had waited so many years already. For such a one. . .she could do so again. She would keep him locked within her secret heart and love him still when he returned.
In this instance, it was lucky that Xandor’s perceptive powers were deficient, and that telepathy was not possible for any of them; with no regrets, he could leave at dawn with a clear conscience to concentrate on the quest. And when the rest of the clan met Serafina on the beach, welcoming her into their fold, they only sensed part of the truth: she was excited to start her training and join them all in a new life in Baram.
With the permission of their parents, Churian used his calming skills to dissipate a very tearful episode with the Morvian children. They were devastated to hear their new friend and playmate, Roland, had not made it back to play with them. The youngsters were instead encouraged to participate with the rest of the clan in a few minutes of prayerful tribute to the young warrior, which they did surprisingly well for ones so young.
The evening campfire hosted the usual Telling and there were so many stories to share at this reunion, adventures old and new, it went on for hours into the night. Even Melu, whose injury and strength had much improved after Churian’s ministrations, eagerly chose to join in with the Gaian tradition of storytelling; he represented his family by recounting their escape through the Impossible Mountains in his own sing-song language, kindly translated by Churian. The entire clan were fascinated by the Morvian’s mellifluous voice, but more intrigued by his expressive eyes which seemed to tell a story of their own.
As the clan gradually dispersed to find places on the beach or in the nearby cave to sleep, Sumar approached Xandor, wishing to offer comfort. He had noticed the wistful mood that had not left his friend all afternoon and lingered even now. He suspected the cause of it.
“Brother Xandor, things will get easier. . .with time. We all lose those who are dear to us, for one reason or another. It is part of life! We have to move on.” Sumar was better equipped than most to give such advice, having lost so much. Xandor appreciated that fact and gave him a grateful smile, trying his best to believe what Sumar said. He recalled the widely accepted proverb, Time is a healer. Doubt about the truth of that yet lingered, due to the fact that every time he thought of healers – or healing – he thought of her! It would not help create distance by reciting those words. . .would it?
Aware of his friend’s difficulty Sumar encouraged some much needed meditation in Xandor’s favourite position, perched on some rocks at the end of the beach; the enveloping darkness and the sound of the waves were a soothing mantra. Close together, they sat in contemplation for some time before Xandor ended it, content enough to sleep for the few hours until dawn. Sumar was pleased to see the improvement in his friend’s mood and equally happy to
find his own rest, exhausted after a very long day.
When the morning sun peeped over the headland, the entire clan was up and about, ready to depart in two directions. The mood of excitement bubbled over in the chatter of the younger ones and in the brisk movement of older members as they congregated in their respective groups. Everyone looked forward to the next stage in their journey. Churian, Xandor and Sumar, with Zenth and Troyan, expected a two day flight west, where Churian detected a desperate need. Salvo would lead Nerisse, her new charge Serafina and the rest of the clan, which now included Melu’s family, to the Capital in Baram to meet their protector, Lord Luminor, and finally have a place to call home.
Churian had to employ a great deal of wisdom and persistence to dissuade a very eager Melu from accompanying him on the quest. The brave Morvian had sworn his undying loyalty to the Gaian who had saved his life and that of his family, taking on the cause as his own. He entrusted the well-being of his wife and children implicitly to the care of Nerisse and the new clan. He was adamant that with his one good sword-arm, extensive combat experience and impeccable foresight, he would be a most capable bodyguard. And he would certainly save Churian’s life in return. Churian assured Melu that he was deeply honoured by the offer but finally managed to appeal to the Morvian’s sense of duty to family by pointing out the need to help them overcome the personal challenges of making a home in a very different culture. After all, certain prejudice still existed. This quest was a lengthy undertaking and perhaps Melu could join them at a later date, when the family was safely settled.
When the time for goodbyes came, there were no tears, though Nerisse was serious; she made the sign of the Ancestors over Churian’s group which included her dear nephew, Sumar. They were heading into certain danger. In his farewell to Churian, the endearing Melu was the only one who appeared to have tears in his eyes, big black bottomless pools, almost brimming over but not quite allowed to do so. They spoke volumes of friendship, gratitude and promise of a reunion before too long.
Xandor checked his gear and discovered the green Chuli necklace in his satchel. He had forgotten all about it in the excitement. Palming it, he rushed to search out Serafina before she left, telling himself it was because he wanted to do the right thing and return it to her, not to find an excuse to see her one last time. He found her deep in conversation with Nerisse. She seemed irritated at his intrusion, raising shuttered eyes before looking away.
“This is yours, I believe. I brought it from Tuli. I thought it might mean something to you.” Xandor offered her the necklace, trying to sound matter-of-fact. She accepted it almost reluctantly, with a look that said the trinket held no importance whatsoever. A curt ‘thank you’, was his reward, as she turned her attention back to Nerisse, who continued to give instruction about the upcoming flight.
Salvo made the signal for his group to follow as he assumed the lead into the air, heading north out over the dunes. The others took off in quick succession, four of them with a Morvian passenger each. Xandor glanced over at Serafina, wearing a spare cloak which Nerisse had woven especially for a new member. Serafina’s attention was intent on the fliers, already in the air, and he felt a sharp pang of disappointment; she barely looked at him in farewell, before she launched herself into her female tutor’s shadow and was carried away on the breeze.
Xandor made a painful resolution not to think on it, taking up his role as leader of the mission west. He threw out his cloak to fly abreast of Churian who would be the sentient compass and advisor for the group as they embarked on what was bound to be a perilous journey, into a foreign land that was presently undergoing a maelstrom of change. Soon they would all know what the disturbance really meant. First hand.
CHAPTER 26
The Theft
Luminor gazed out of the open window across the night-shadowed streets of the Capital, towards the lands to the southwest, under a moonless sky. An involuntary shiver raced through his body. He had slept hardly at all for three nights, plagued with several more attacks on his senses, one even more intense than the first. To protect himself, he had to stay awake for hours, maintaining a strong mental shield. Even during lovemaking, he had to take care not to allow himself to become vulnerable, to double his focus, knowing his guard could fall in the abandonment of passion. He glanced back, drinking in the sight of his beautiful soul-mate as she slept. Oh, for safer times!
To protect Fralii from these disturbing events, he had not mentioned the danger to her and made sure she was sufficiently calmed to have the sleep her pregnant body needed. He did not like keeping secrets from her. However, very soon, he would tell her and sighed at the thought, even though he had noticed during the time they had been together, she had gained maturity of understanding. This glimmer of enlightenment from the Link would serve her well in the near future. Thank the Stars, he didn’t foresee any difficulty with her acceptance of his departure on a new quest, though she was bound to be sad. He could not abide seeing her sad, difficult for him to accept. . .but like many things, not impossible. The call of Destiny, like the call of her twin, Nature, was inescapable: all beings, however rebellious, became their subjects in the end. The appearance of this new and powerful opponent was part of a greater design which would reveal itself fully, in time.
From his disturbing dreams and many wakeful hours of meditation, he knew the question of power revolved around Fire, the Supreme Power that should be his alone. He was Lord of Fire. In all of Gaian history that mantle had never been challenged. These unprecedented circumstances were going to be a major test to his abilities and wisdom. He now realised the prophecy went far beyond the quest to kill the flame adder, or the quest to find other Gaians.
Once again, the fate of all Living rested in his hands. There was a sinister imbalance out there, its greedy fingers attempting to reach into his very being, to wrest his birthright from him. Incredible as it was, there had been a theft of supernatural origin: he had heard the silent implication from the Guardians, that something had slipped past them from deep within the Ancient realm. A dark and dangerous entity, so stealthy in its disguise as a shadow, they had not become aware until the massive Eternal Flame had already reduced in size. By then it had been too late, the thieving demon transported right under their noses – along with its prize – into Existence. This had been accomplished by a summoner, one whose consummate projective skills had been capable of penetrating far enough into the Ancient Realm to find such a dark entity to perpetrate the crime. The wraith, which continued to elude them at every turn, had insinuated itself within the iron-clad protection of its host.
Luminor was aware without a doubt, the summoner had been Gaian, very skilled at all the arts and of noble bloodline. Sensing a vague familial Link, he suspected it might even be a distant relative from his father’s side. He had only intuition to go on, because many who had the knowledge of the ancient lineage had perished during the years of persecution. He could think of only one who might know something of that history. His mother. With well-honed mind-sense, he reached out to Aleana in Splendo, where she sat as an esteemed member of that city’s assembly, and respectfully summoned her to make haste to the Capital. He could consult with her on the matter before he gathered his army to depart. If she knew anything about that side of the family, it might help him to understand his opponent better. Such insight would give him an advantage. She would be on her way at this moment, using a fast enough wind not to be reckless. He expected her to arrive within hours.
So much had been lost in the dispersal of their race. Knowledge of history and practice of the arts were frequent casualties of this alienation. The survival of their race, and others, was dependent on the re-establishment of unity and, despite the hope that had burgeoned in Baram with the formation of the Alliance, this outside threat seemed to be getting worse by the day. He could not avoid the sadness in his heart, that one obviously so talented, of his own noble race, would choose the questionable path of evil. It was paramount that this question not
be allowed to endanger the innocent of any race. The most volatile and dangerous element, Fire, must remain where it belonged – at its source, tended by the Guardians – available only to him.
In the dark silence, he pondered the problem, perfectly shielded and confident he could continue to protect himself this way. He would ensure the safety of all his combined people. He would win the looming battle with some inter-dimensional assistance from the Ancestors. Distracted, he turned. Even deep in thought, he had not missed the almost silent pad of footsteps approaching, all the way along the hall and through the open door into the chamber he shared with Fralii.
The small form, quietly but hesitantly watching him from the doorway, was his little daughter, Espira. Feeling Luminor’s encouragement and permission as he sat down on the window-seat, she came forward and climbed on his lap, just as she had done each of the past three nights. He had not really been surprised that she knew there was something amiss. Her understanding was unlike that of any child that had ever been born, and she came to him not to receive comfort, but to give it. The comforting warmth of love and compassion radiated from her like the rays of the sun and he allowed it to chase the present chill from his soul. On recent nights, she’d sat in his embrace, her little arms tucked around his chest, silently joining in his vigil, until she could no longer resist sleep, remaining there in his arms, until Luminor carried her back to her cot, just before dawn.
This particular night was different. Fralii awoke with a start. Seeing the two huddled together, she was immediately concerned, joining them at the window. She quizzed her wakeful husband and daughter affectionately. “Lumi, our unborn son woke me with a mighty kick! You – all three – know something that I don’t! What is it?”