by Marcus Lee
‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘I am lost.’ Yet the soldier carried on staring into the distance.
She wondered if he hadn’t heard, so reached to tug at his arm, but her hand passed right through him, and she fell backwards in horror. She ran into the camp, between some tents, amongst men talking and drinking by firelight, trying to get their attention, but again no one heard her cries or felt her touch.
She wandered to the centre of the camp, unseen, unheard then collapsed by a large fire, unaffected by its heat, crying her heart out, lost and lonely in a world of the dead.
‘My child,’ said a soft voice.
She looked up to see a man in red robes standing there, and no one else was close by. ‘You can see me?’ she asked.
The man smiled. ‘But of course my child, just as you can see me. What pains you this night and why do you cry so when you have this wonderful gift?’
‘I think I must be dead,’ she replied. ‘Or, everyone else is dead because everyone is a ghost. Or am I the ghost?’ Then she started crying again, frightened.
The man knelt beside her and laughed kindly. ‘Fear not little one. No one here is dead, least of all you or I. You have an amazing gift, and this must be the first time you’ve experienced it. You are spirit travelling, which means your mind has left your body asleep while your spirit flies free to soar into the sky, to visit places you know. You can do things others only dream of.’
The girl looked up at him. ‘But I don’t know this place or any of the others I’ve visited. I’ve flown all night, and I’m lost,’ and she told him of her journey and that she’d forgotten her name and where she was from.
A frown slowly appeared on the man’s face, and when he spoke, his demeanour became more serious. ‘My child. Spirit travelling doesn’t normally allow you to roam places you have yet to go or see, not without excruciating pain. So I need to understand if this is true. I have only ever met one other who could do this, and she is dead.’
He knelt and looked closely at the girl. ‘My name is Astren, does this sound familiar to you?’
The girl nodded. ‘It’s a strange name, yet I feel I’ve heard it before.’
Astren reached out his hand and placed his fingertips on the girl’s forehead. He whispered one word.
‘Maya.’
Suddenly, the girl was a little girl no longer. Instead, a young woman now sat in front of Astren, and he smiled. ‘Welcome back, Maya. You were lost, but now you are found, and I cannot tell you how surprised I am that you still live.’
‘Astren!’ exclaimed Maya, looking around. ‘Where am I, and how did I get here?’
‘As to the where,’ Astren replied, ‘ your spirit form has found its way to the Freestates. I am currently journeying to Tristan’s Folly that guards the pass through the Forelorn mountains. As to how, it may be that your spirit was drawn to mine, but I’ve never met anyone other than you, who could travel unhindered to places they’d yet to visit in the physical world. I never got to question you about it when we first met as our time was so short, but it seems you are unique in more ways than one. To travel where you will, is unheard of, and the possibilities of your gift are unbelievable. So, tell me what happened, where you are, and whether your companions still protect you.’
Maya spent a while talking to Astren about her journey, but then stopped, for there seemed to be a strange emptiness where some recent memories should have been. She remembered saving Taran when he’d nearly drowned, and then heading toward Laska’s settlement, but beyond that, while she knew other events had happened, she couldn’t recall them.
‘I don’t understand.’ said Maya, into the silence that followed the abrupt ending of her tale. I simply can’t remember anything more.’
Astren nodded, concern written across his feature. ‘Maya,’ he said, ‘I think we had best return you to your body. The fact you’ve lost memories and even wandered here in spirit form as your child-self would indicate you’ve suffered great trauma in the physical world. Your body might well be fighting to stay alive, and your mind seeks to protect itself by escaping here to a calmer place. Without your spirit, your body will eventually die. Even if pain awaits you, you should return to face it, or here you will remain until your body dies, then you will simply fade away.
‘I could help awaken you with a touch, but I think we should find what awaits you, and thus be prepared for any eventuality. Let me escort you, for I know the whereabouts of the settlement you would go, despite not having heard of this Laska, and I can at least accompany you there. But, we must move carefully, for Daleth or his agents might well be abroad this night, and if we come across them, we flee, for surely we cannot fight.’
They flew together; Astren leading Maya back toward the Forelorn mountains, over Tristan’s Folly, then along the border of the Witch-King’s lands, following the mountain range south.
What would have taken weeks by foot, took little time at the speed with which they travelled, and there in the distance twinkled the many soft lights of a large settlement.
‘If there’s danger flying over these lands, why didn’t we pass over the mountains?’ asked Maya, nodding to their left.
Astren shook his head. ‘I am jealous,’ he stated, ‘and that is not a feeling I am used to. You forget I cannot easily travel where I have yet to go. In time I could push into the fog that I see and travel that way, but it would take months.’
‘You see, many moons ago as a young man, I managed to travel this land quite extensively. There were still many areas I hadn’t visited. So, over the following years, I set out to reach them on my spirit travels instead, only to suffer terrible headaches for weeks as the price. But because of this, I am now the eyes and ears of the Freestates over these lands. I rarely come now as the perils are too great. We already know of Daleth’s plans, so there is little reward to the risk, or at least I thought so until now.’
He didn’t elaborate any further, and they flew closer toward Laska’s settlement, skirting the mountains.
Maya felt herself irresistibly pulled downward and mentioned it to Astren.
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘You are still connected to your body and it seeks your return. Let it take us to where you are, and then you can prepare yourself to awaken once again.’
However, as they came closer, Astren called a halt. ‘There is a fog over much of this settlement,’ said Astren. ‘I cannot go any further. This place must have changed dramatically from when I first discovered it.
Maya thought for a moment, then, somehow knowing it was the right thing to do, reached out to hold Astren’s hand. He looked at her questioningly then his eyes widened as the fog started to lift before him.
‘Your gift is stronger than I could ever dream of!’ breathed Astren in awe, then whistled as he saw the transformation Maya’s gift had worked upon the eastern part of the settlement, an oasis amongst a desert and the more beautiful for it.
Maya felt herself drawn toward a large building which she now recognised as Laska’s Great Hall. They drifted down and passed through the roof, whereupon Maya felt forcefully pulled toward a room outside which a guard stood.
They entered to find Taran upon a bed, cradling Maya’s body in his arms. Tears ran down his face, glistening in the light of a bedside candle, and Maya’s heart ached. Then suddenly, everything came rushing back in an instant. The night she gave herself to Taran, the fight, and trying to save Laska’s grandson.
She started to move toward her body, but Astren reached out, holding her arm.
‘Wait a moment,’ he cautioned. ‘First, look at yourself. You bear no obvious injury for which I am grateful, but neither are you the same.’
Maya looked closer, and her hand went to her mouth in surprise. ‘It is of no matter,’ she said, but her eyes betrayed the lie.
‘Secondly, you need to ask yourself what happens next,’ advised Astren. ‘Daleth will soon find out that you live, and he is unlikely to stop hunting you until you’re dead. Wherever you live, you
cannot hope to hide. Your gift will always give you away until one day they put an arrow in your back and that of anyone else with you. There’s no safety for you within his kingdom. So, I believe you should try and find your way to me. The Freestates is currently all that stands between Daleth and the rest of the world we know. If he conquers us, everything he visited upon your lands will happen there, as men, women, and children will die in the hundreds of thousands. Then the land itself will follow, and from what you’ve told me of your journey, it might never recover unless by your touch.
‘I’m not sure if there is anything you can do to help stop this, but we can offer you sanctuary while we can and help you escape should we fall. Try to reach us, get to us before Daleth does.’
Maya nodded. ‘I need to go,’ she said, her heart torn by Taran’s misery, and she couldn’t wait another moment to ease his pain.
‘A final thing,’ said Astren. ‘It would be ideal if we could maintain contact. Try to reach me by taking your spirit to the citadel, I should be there soon, or better still, use it to simply talk to me. It takes some practice as both minds must recognise the other, but concentrate on me, and in time I will hear your call. That will likely be safer than flying the spirit paths in case you meet one of Daleth’s agents, or the man himself.’
She turned to him then. ‘Thank you, Astren.’
The pull toward her body was irresistible, and she merged with it becoming one, body and soul. She opened her eyes, to see Taran’s closed, and reached out to gently caress his face. His eyes opened, and in an instant, their lips met and didn’t part until they both gasped for breath.
‘It’s ok,’ she said, as Taran shook with emotion. ‘I am here, and I will never leave you again.’
Taran held her close, eyes shining with love as he brushed back the unruly hair that always fell over her face. Hair that was now streaked with purest white.
Maya leaned over to blow out the candle.
‘We are fated to be together,’ Taran whispered in the darkness, ‘in this world and the next.’ And this time when their lips met, their bodies followed, and everything else was forgotten.
-----
Rakan sat opposite Laska and Yana, deep in conversation, the early morning light shining feebly through the windows, when he saw Yana’s eyes narrow.
Following her gaze, he turned to see Taran walk down the stairs holding Maya’s hand tightly in his, almost as if he let her go, she would suddenly disappear.
He leapt from his seat mid-sentence to run across the hall and embrace them both, lifting them from the floor in his happiness, and his eyes were wet as he finally let them go. He stood back to look at them. They were both dressed in new clothing provided by Laska, and the two of them were as handsome a couple as he could ever imagine.
‘It’s so good to see you on your feet girl, it’s been a worrying two days for us all, and none was more worried than Taran here,’ and Rakan smiled at Taran. ‘I’m so happy for you, son.’
Taran’s eyes widened in surprise, and Rakan looked sheepish at having used such an affectionate term, before gruffly clearing his throat.
‘Laska,’ Rakan said, looking over his shoulder, ‘is not in the finest of moods. He regrets not just the risk he took in helping us defeat the Rangers, but the loss of his grandson as well.
Rakan led them across the hall, and Laska’s old, hooded eyes, followed them every step of the way. Whereas Laska’s brow was furrowed and his visage dark, Yana’s was less foreboding, and she flashed a bright, welcoming smile at Taran as he approached.
Laska nodded for them to sit, and as servants brought food to the table, both Maya and Taran realised just how hungry they were, and set to eating with enthusiasm. The others ate at a more measured pace.
An uncomfortable silence grew after everyone finished their meal, but then Yana broke it. With a somewhat malicious smile, she nodded at Maya. ‘You seem to be ageing a little prematurely,’ she said. ‘White hair seems to suit you as it goes with those new lines around your eyes.’
Maya’s hand went up to brush the white shock of hair back from her face, and she felt Taran’s hand squeeze her leg under the table in support.
Taran scowled. ‘Do you realise that was the price she paid to try and save your brother,’ he said, voice shaking in restrained anger, having now fully understood the cost to Maya whenever she used her gift to heal someone.
Laska’s fist slammed into the table. ‘A brother who died to save your lives,’ he roared, ‘best you never forget it. A few white hairs don’t go near far enough to make up for our loss, and the loss endured by the families of the men who died saving you!’
Rakan raised his hands placatingly. ‘Let us not dwell on what has happened; instead, let us look forward to what happens next. We sought sanctuary in this, your home, and would reiterate our pledge to serve you - if you grant us refuge. We ask that you honour our agreement and advise us how best we can work under your command.’
Laska cut in. ‘I’ve heard all this before, and these last days I’ve given it a lot of thought. How you can pay me back, how you can work off the debt you owe me.’ He looked at Maya. ‘You are the only one who can repay it. For the next week, under the protection of my men, you will travel my lands working that gift of yours. Heal the land, heal the crops, cleanse the waters, whatever it costs you.’ He saw Taran about to interject and raised his hand. ‘Whatever the cost!
‘Then, once you have done this thing for me, and my land and peoples future is secure, you will all leave this place never to return, for without question, wherever you are, the Witch-King or his men will likely go.’
Rakan’s face went white. ‘This was not the bargain we struck,’ he said, eyes narrowing dangerously. ‘You guaranteed our safety, a place to live, and you will need our swords and help in defending what you will gain.’
Yana piped up. ‘How about we just give Taran sanctuary as a compromise,’ she said, licking her lips enticingly, and enjoying the look of hurt on Maya’s face.
Suddenly, Maya spoke. ‘I agree,’ she said, and such was the shock at hearing this statement, that Rakan and Taran stopped and stared as did Laska. ‘I agree because Laska is right. The Witch-King will come for me, come for us, wherever we are. There is nowhere in this kingdom I can hide that he won’t find me should he try. We repay the debt we owe them, and then we leave.’
Maya then told them of her meeting with Astren and his suggestion that they seek refuge in the Freestates, while it still stood firm.
‘So, how do we get across?’ asked Rakan, looking at Laska. ‘This was the first reason we thought to come here, for I know there’s a passage of some kind that might help us escape these lands.’
Laska smiled grimly. ‘Oh there’s a passage, but as you might know, very few ever make it across. It leads to the valley of the giants, and if you can make it past them, and I can assure you in the last fifty years very few have done so, then the Freestates is on the other side.’
‘Giants,’ scoffed Taran incredulously. ‘You cannot be serious.’
Laska looked at Taran. ‘Boy,’ he said, ‘you can disbelieve all you like, all the way up to when they tear your arms and legs off when they catch you.
‘You have a week,’ he said. ‘For seven days, you do as I request, and I will outfit you for your journey and show you on your way to whatever fate awaits you.’
Maya stood. ‘Time is short,’ she said. ‘The Witch-King and his army are only a month away from attacking the citadel. We need to reach Astren before the attack. For whatever reason, he says he can help us, and I believe him.’
‘The enemy of our enemy, is our friend,’ said Rakan, quoting an old saying, and Taran nodded.
Laska called over a guard. ‘You start now,’ he commanded, and turned away pulling Yana with him.
‘She’s too old for you, Taran,’ Yana called over her shoulder. ‘You should find yourself someone closer to your own age. Just let me know if you change your mind,’ and she walked after Laska,
hips swaying.
As the guard led them outside, men, women, and children turned as Maya passed by, bowing their heads.
‘Now,’ said Maya looking at Taran. ‘Let us make a garden the like of which has never been seen before.’ She took his hand, and followed by Rakan and their escorts, they walked toward the settlement gates and the land beyond.
-----
Kalas lay upon his back, vision almost gone, his whole being an agony.
He’d thought he would slip away quietly in his sleep and not feel the approach of death, but these last few days had seen him suffer horribly as his body was wracked by thirst, hunger, and the wound in his back that had turned foul, the stench of which pervaded every breath.
In his lucid moments, he tried to control the involuntary cries of pain, knowing that if anyone deserved this, it was him. This was his punishment for the lives he’d taken, the life he’d drunk, even if it was the influence of the daemon that had made him do so.
Then again, maybe the daemon simply encouraged the darkness that already existed inside of him, to do what he’d done. He hadn’t risen to become the weapon master in the king’s guard because he was a kind man, but because inside of him, there was a desire to attain power, influence and status. He’d trained so hard for the ecstasy of standing over men who lay beaten at his feet, anguish in their eyes. His shining armour was a parody of the darkness inside his soul, even before the daemon had made its home there. How far would his ambition have taken him if not for the invasion of the Witch-King and his legions?
He chuckled to himself, choking up blood as he felt his life finally slipping away from him.
‘Time to go home, daemon,’ he said. ‘We are going back to the nine hells from whence you came, or maybe just me, for I have a feeling you will end your days here.’
He felt the daemon sob distantly in the back of his mind, having hidden itself away just like those many years ago, and Kalas felt some satisfaction at its imminent demise.
Darkness was falling. He felt his heart slow, the distance between beats growing longer and longer, and the pain started to recede.