by A. Evermore
‘Another casualty of Keteth?’ Triest’anth asked, bounding over. ‘Though I can see it is not fatal… This one sleeps, exhausted from magic,’ he added, arching his eyebrow in surprise.
‘The final casualty,’ Asaph said, also a little surprised at Triest’anth’s perception.
Other karalanths bounded over and crowded around them, intrigued by yet another strange looking ‘two-foot’ in their midst.
‘The raven and dragon return,’ Cusap’anth said, coming to stand beside his father.
Coronos turned to see the big black bird land on a branch and watch them all keenly from above. Sunlight suddenly spilled over the treetops blinding Asaph with its brilliant light as it bathed them all in sudden warmth. Silence settled over the karalanths and they all turned to stare at Asaph. He blinked in the light and shifted his feet awkwardly, self-conscious under their gaze. Cusap’anth broke the silence, his voice loud for all to hear.
‘Karalanths, hear me, do you see the truth of our sacred scriptures, the Reun Tualath? For there it is written;
“Look and listen when the dragon made of fire carries forth the Queen of Ravens. For know then that the darkness is fully upon you. But fear not this time of cleansing, and all who choose love and seek freedom will walk once again in the light. Pick up your sword and your bow, for now is a time of great trial and tribulation, a time of cleansing of the dark, so that a greater purer life may come forth.”
Triest’anth looked at his son with pride, clearly surprised the younger karalanth remembered their sacred texts word for word. Asaph caught the half-smile on Coronos' face but looked away before he could meet the older man’s eyes. He felt his face grow hotter as the karalanths all bent a leg and bowed low before him. They really did think that he and Issa were the ones talked about in their prophecies. It just seemed too much to bear. Asaph, already embarrassed, was next mortified when Cusap’anth cried out again.
‘Hail the Dawn Bringer! Hail the Raven Queen! The prophecy is in motion, the Great Battle is coming!’
Asaph’s cheeks burned crimson as all the karalanths erupted into cheering. He did not know their prophecies and certainly didn’t feel like he had fulfilled anything. Issa stirred in his arms under the commotion, giving him a welcome excuse to leave.
‘I must get her inside. I need fresh water and bandages,’ he said meekly, his quiet voice somehow cutting through the cheering.
Triest’anth nodded and swiftly escorted him into his house that had now become a permanent nursing home. Coronos remained silent as he followed them into the house, the half-smile still on his face.
Asaph sighed in relief when the door shut behind him and the cheering dimmed, feeling the weight of the karalanths’ prophecies, and the responsibilities they had assumed upon him, also shut out.
‘The Reun Tualath are our sacred scrolls, written during the time of the Dark Run when we fled in darkness from the light dwarves and dark dwarves long ago,’ Triest’anth explained as he prepared towels and boiling water. ‘They were written by Ull’anth, under the dictation of the blind seer Fay’ynth. Ull’anth wrote down her visions until the last moments when the dark dwarves came for them.
‘Ull and Fay and their followers were captured and tortured; forced to consume the Sirin Derenax. Their souls went to oblivion and their bodies became Maphraxie,’ Triest’anth, sighed, ‘and so the Forest Lord never came for them, Woetala’s paradise they never reached. Such was the ultimate price they paid to bring us the knowledge we have today.’
‘The scrolls were hidden and then found by the appointed karalanths who, under oath, memorised the text and taught all other karalanths their wisdom. The scrolls were destroyed to keep them from the dark dwarves. The Reun Tualath has been faithfully passed down, exactly as written, through the generations.’
Asaph washed Issa’s face, arms and legs as he listened, cleaning the blood and sea salt off where he could whilst trying not to disturb her too much, though she slept like the dead. She was covered in bruises and had many small wounds that were red raw but thankfully no longer bleeding. She was in better shape than he had expected and he suspected a little magic at work. He could faintly feel an enchantment upon the silver bracelet she wore, but without his dragon form his magic sensing ability was far too weak.
‘That is exhaustion born of magic use that makes her sleep so deep. Especially if she is new to the Flow,’ Triest’anth said.
‘You can use magic?’ Asaph asked in surprise.
Triest’anth raised his eyebrows, ‘Oh, a little. I am far better at sensing it than wielding it though.’
‘I can sense only a little… in my human form,’ Asaph replied.
‘From what I felt in the Flow back then, there was powerful magic moving. She would not have been able to use it had she not had another Wizard train her,’ Coronos said. ‘I think Freydel must have helped her. But a novice in magic with great power is a dangerous thing. Magic should take years to master. She is lucky not to have destroyed herself, and I think the dark moon had something to do with it…’ Coronos trailed off.
Asaph’s own fatigue was gnawing at him but he fought it a while longer. He touched Issa’s cheek and was relieved to find some warmth there now. She looked like a marble statue in a goddess’s temple. Dark hair spread about her, skin gleaming white in the dim light, and fine dark eyebrows arching over long-lashed, eyes. He somehow felt complete, at ease, now he was with her, as if throughout all his life there had been this underlying tension that was now relaxed. They were safe, for now. He wished it were forever, wished there was no war or darkness in the land that he knew they would have to face and fight someday.
The smell of food drifted to him and made his stomach rumble. Asaph left Issa to sleep. A tentative look outside the door told him the crowd had finally gone and the three of them took their steaming bowls of food outside to sit and eat in the sun. They ate heartily of Triest’anth’s forest root broth and warm dark karalanth bread as they sipped sweet karalanthian summer berry wine. Asaph looked at the contemplative yet content faces of Triest’anth and Coronos and decided that they too were enjoying the same peace that had not been felt for a long time.
Asaph found he had an insatiable hunger that only just felt slaked after a sheepish third portion; he could not remember when he had last eaten anything substantial. Whilst they ate he told them in detail everything that had happened; especially his strange living dreams and the battles fought against Keteth in his twisted world. He even decided to tell them of finding the secret dragon door, at first appearing in the real world and then within his mind. The door that led to the beautiful shared realm of dragons called the Dragon Dreaming.
Triest’anth listened in captivated silence whilst Coronos' brow remained in a permanent frown of worry.
‘So it seems to me,’ Asaph concluded, ‘that the Shadowlands where the lost souls go may have always existed but Keteth took control of it as he took control of their souls. Within it he created his own undead world amongst the living, trapping souls and feeding off them. Issa was lucky to survive there, and I think we were lucky to get out at all!’ Asaph spooned up the last few morsels of food from his bowl as the others sipped thoughtfully on their wine.
‘But what of the Maphraxies? I felt a surge of magic flood the Flow and I have yet to understand why,’ Triest’anth pressed excitedly and Coronos grinned.
Asaph told them of the recent battle, of the Wykiry and all the cetaceans that had come to her aid, of the despised necromancers that nearly were the end of him, and made sure he left no detail out.
‘I really thought that was it but when I managed to make it into the air she was still there and the Maphraxies closest had simply vanished, obliterated,’ Asaph finished, his eyes wide in wonder.
‘I wish I could fly and been able to witness all this,’ Triest’anth marvelled, ‘but from afar, of course.’
Everyone laughed. Coronos spoke next, explaining what happened to the Orb of Air.
‘It burned
so hot in my pocket that I had to take it out. Only when I touched it, it was so cold I had to place it in the sand. Lucky for me I did for no sooner had I put it on the ground than it flared into a brilliant white light, like a flame only still and unmoving. Then the light surged out across the ocean where it met another light surging towards it, only this one was aqua blue.
‘Together they made a rainbow of the most brilliant white and blue light, the pure essence of air and water combined in a powerful embrace. In unison they flared and the magic surged, knocking me to the ground. Then all was still and I knew something amazing had just happened. The orbs, so long separated, were somehow communicating with each other, working together as once they had before the Ancients split the great magic of Maioria. I just wish I could understand more. The great wizard Freydel would surely know,’ Coronos added the last thoughtfully.
They chatted for a long while until it was late in the afternoon when they finally finished speaking about everything that had happened. And then after they sat for a long while pondering in silence or talking of smaller things. The smoke from Coronos' pipe rose and clung in dense clouds to the still air above him. Everyone was peaceful, everyone was content and Asaph felt an inner peace within him, a completeness he had not known his entire life. There was only one thing that was missing right now and that was home. Drax. But Drax could wait.
Asaph yawned, stretched his arms behind his head and lay back upon the grass. He watched the sun lazily descend in the sky. Somehow it did not hurt him so much to look at the sun anymore; he could stare straight at it for a short while and not be blinded. He wondered if other reptiles besides dragons could do that as he drifted off to sleep.
Asaph awoke alone but covered in a blanket that someone had draped over him. The sun was gone and it was night. He wondered how long he had slept for above him now hung the small pale orange moon of Woetala.
He was pleased there was no dark moon tonight, he did not understand its power, did not understand its connection to Issa and that made him a little afraid of it. He vaguely understood that it heralded great change and it made him nervous. It would change her, he knew that, but as long as he did not lose her. Having lost her so many times before he could not bear the thought of losing her again.
He got up and winced from the soreness of his stiff muscles. He tiptoed into Triest’anth’s house and closed the door quietly behind him. Coronos and Triest’anth slept soundly in their beds beside the opposite wall to Issa.
She shifted as if sensing his approach but did not wake. He smiled down at her, ‘Rest deeply,’ he whispered and went back outside, satisfied that she was well. Unable to sleep anymore he wandered into the forest, the night was fresh and alive and for the first time in a long time there was joy and lightness in his heart.
Chapter 11
Karshur's Gift
SOMETHING was calling Issa from far away. The sound had light to it, bright white light. It wasn’t really an urgent sound, but still she knew she had to go to it. Apart from the bright shining light all about was blackness, like the light at the end of a long dark tunnel. She neared the light and reached to touch it.
Issa sat up blinking uselessly in the darkness. It was pitch black like it had been in her dream and she could not make out anything or tell where she was. A light grew from somewhere then went dim again. In the brief glow she glimpsed that she was wrapped in blankets and sat on a bed pallet. Where on earth am I? But thinking did not bring back memories, even trying to remember where she had been last, before here was here, was blank.
The dim light glowed again, it was coming from beside her. She looked over the side of the bed and there was something long and thin wrapped in a ragged cloth. Karshur! At least she remembered the blade if nothing else. But then the memory of Keteth returned to her, and the task which it had just performed. Memories of the horrendous battle they had had sent her legs shaking even though she was sitting.
I killed him… horrible guilt swept through her. No, I set him free; we set them all free. It was the Dark Moon that gave me strength, that made me the Raven Queen. I cannot be her without it… Thought of the fearless warrior woman that she became with the power of the dark moon made her anxious and her head swim.
She lay back down and shut her eyes. If she focused on the memories hard enough she could pretend that the rough blankets wrapped around her were smooth and she was back in her bed on Little Kammy. Her work clothes were freshly pressed on the chair beside her bed ready to be worn. Ma was healthy and sleeping soundly in the next room. She sighed contentedly. The images were so vivid she could even smell the scent of the ocean on the air. Soon she would get out of bed to find it was a glorious sunny summer’s day and she would run free and wild through the woods before breakfast.
I am not a warrior, I am not the Raven Queen of prophecy. I am Issa and I live on Little Kammy, far from the world of war and the awful immortals.
Karshur glowed again, seeming bright even through her closed lids, calling to her like in her dream. Why is it glowing? Would it not let her rest? Would it not let her be? She had done what it required of her. Did the Goddess want to make her suffer more? But thoughts of the strange women robed in the stars only filled her with love, not anger.
But I cannot be her, I cannot be this Raven Queen. Whatever is expected of me, I cannot unite a world and lead it to war so how can I ever defeat Baelthrom and his Maphraxies?
Tears of frustration and confusion filled her closed lids and the feel of home on Little Kammy began to slip away. Yet had she not accepted this task to rid the world of the Maphraxies when Zanufey Herself had come to her? But it was always different when she was with her, when the dark moon was there, everything was different. Without the dark moon her powers were weak, she could feel the Flow but her ability to use it was so much weaker. She sighed.
But what about living my own life? As soon as she thought it she wondered what her own life would be. Am I really in service to Zanufey? I heal horses, not wield swords and magic… Can I ever be what I was once before? But then Little Kammy and everyone there was gone.
Kashur glowed. She tried to ignore it but it was like trying to ignore a baby crying. She groaned and let go of the memories of her soft warm bed and the smell of the ocean dissipated into the smell of forest. She fumbled over the side of the bed and grabbed Karshur roughly. The dagger was warm beneath the cloth as she unravelled it. In its soft light her anger lessened. There came a whisper, barely audible and she wondered if she’d heard it in her head.
‘Return us home,’ was all it said and the words sounded like they came from many voices all speaking at once.
‘But how and to where?’ Issa whispered, feeling a little silly for talking to the dagger.
‘Remember the sacred mound. You can traverse the pathways but only we know the way. You only have to consent,’ the voices in the dagger whispered.
Issa frowned, ‘I can traverse the pathways?’ She wondered what that meant. She did understand the sacred mound to be a kind of doorway to other worlds and dimensions, and Keteth had supposedly given her his power to step into the world of the dead, though she had never tried willingly. Perhaps that’s what they meant. But it’s not like I can control it, I cannot go to these places at will…
She closed her eyes and imagined herself sitting before the sacred mound. She was surprised at how easily the image formed in her mind. The grassy mound surrounded by huge ancient stones appeared before her as if she were really there. The air was cool and damp, as if rain had just fallen, and all was completely still and quiet. She imagined getting up and walking towards the pitch-black watery surface of the entrance, stepping into its cold darkness.
She opened her eyes and looked down at Karshur in her lap, touched its smooth white surface. ‘I guess I consent,’ she said.
As soon as she had spoken Karshur burst into blinding white light so bright she slammed her eyes shut. For the briefest moment she felt as if she were tilting to the right and there came t
he sound of whooshing air but there was no wind to be felt. Then a split second later everything was still.
After a moment she peeked through her eyelids. Then opened them wide in surprise. The darkness had gone, the bed pallet and blankets, gone. There was no sacred mound and there was no dark room either. The only things that remained was the far-too-large man’s shirt she wore and Karshur in her hand. It pulsed gently now, a warm and mellow light, as if contented. There had been no lurching, no backward falling feeling. It was as if someone had just switched her reality seamlessly.
She looked about her, mouth agape at the beauty she saw. She was in a warm sunny glade surrounded by old horse chestnuts and willows, or they seemed to be for these trees were somehow more beautiful than the ones she remembered. The willow leaves had a silvery tinge, the horse chestnut shimmered golden and the grass was rich and green and soft. The air also sparkled as if it were alive. A tinkling stream flowed on her left and the sunlight danced upon its surface.
The place was beautiful, peaceful. She felt remarkably well, rested and healthy. Beside her the raven sat waiting. He was such a stark contrast to the beauty around her, his stark black silhouette against a shimmering pastel world, that she jumped.
‘Have you been waiting for me here? Where is here?’ she asked.
But he only cocked his head and took a step towards her. She ruffled his soft neck feathers and he made a cooing sound that made her giggle.
‘Did you bring me here?’
The raven looked at her and shook his head once. She smiled, no longer surprised that the raven understood her and, more than that, answered back.