This would have excited him, had he not felt dreadfully certain the voice belonged to something else.
Whether nymph or something else, he shut his mind off quickly before he could possibly summon anything else. His power seemed both a gift and a curse.
Chapter 12
The water flowed swift and steady as the boat made its way down the river’s current. Dark clouds billowed out overhead, threatening the woods with rain yet again. When they neared spots where the current slowed, Amias and Colt used the oars to speed them along again.
Owen offered to take Amias’s place in rowing, but Amias insisted on keeping things the way they were for the time being. Owen did not mind, as he was able to watch the bank on either side of the river and take in the scenery with a keen eye, wary of shadows.
The sun peeked through the clouds around noon, while the drizzle was light, creating small rainbows around the rocks every once in a while.
They continued downstream well into the afternoon until they broke to camp on the side of the bank. With the threat of rain impending, they built a hut with a canopy of sticks and leaves, and a small fire.
“If it wasn’t so dark and cold, I would fish,” Owen said.
“We can smoke the herb instead.” Colt held up his pipe and placed some herb at the end.
“Where did you get that?”
“Did you think I’d leave a camp of thieves without taking something?” He struck a match to light the pipe between his lips. “Luck on my side, I hope it’s strong.”
Colt puffed from the pipe, then blew the smoke slowly out into the open air. Owen watched him take a few more puffs and noticed how he relaxed. When he handed the pipe to Owen, Amias cleared his throat.
“It’s strong, I can tell,” he said. “We don’t need you both up in the clouds right now.”
Owen pulled away with a frown. “I suppose.”
“I’ll save you some for later.” Colt winked at him before he puffed off the pipe again and settled back against a tree.
Owen eyed him every few minutes. He had dabbled with herbs and other mind-altering plants when he was younger, but since he had lived in Emberton, he had only used it a few times. He would have taken Colt up on his offer had Amias not intervened, but he also could not take the risk while out in the open.
“I believe you take after your father in your curiosity,” Amias said.
Owen grimaced. “What do you mean?”
Amias laughed softly. “Just the desire to try things, like the herb. Your mother was quite the opposite.”
“I suppose I’ll never know,” Owen muttered. He did not think much about his father, nor did he talk about him. He had no memories of him. He only knew that his father had left when he was two. When Owen had asked his mother about him, she told him he went adventuring. Not long after her death, Amias had told him his father had abandoned them.
Amias cleared his throat. “Anyway, there will be plenty of time for that when we meet with the Alliance.”
“You mean the plan you have set out for me that you didn’t ask me about first?”
Amias frowned and nodded. “I suppose I should have asked you first. Yes, I should have. I’m sorry. You’re right, you are a grown man and can make your own decisions. So, Owen, what would you like to do?”
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in. I’ve only heard of the Alliance here and there. Some sort of rebel group branched off from the Union, like Brom said. Now you want to be part of their cause?”
Amias smiled, but quickly tucked it away. “I believe they’re a good group to get involved with. They fight against the Legion, not just for Astrans, as the Union did, but to usurp the Legion and set up a democracy in Milarc and Avathon.”
Owen shrugged. “So the Alliance is what people are talking about nowadays?”
Amias grunted and settled against the tree. “Yes. They’ve gained talk in social circles. Just think on it. We can settle for a while in the mountains, but it won’t be safe for you to stay in any place for too long. Not with the way the Wielders are moving. You need to be part of a group who will protect you.”
Owen sighed as he took out the small medallion that Brom had given him that morning. He ran his thumb over the symbol, feeling the bumpy curves of the design. He felt as though Amias was holding back information from him. The plan would only work in theory. Owen did not want to risk finding a group on a whim. He only wanted to be normal.
“Where did you get that?” Amias asked.
“From Brom.”
“He’s a good man, I can tell. And if he was carrying the Astran symbol around, I’d be apt to trust him more.”
Owen took in a deep breath. He wished they could have stayed with Brom and his men. Though he had not liked Harv, he could not help but feel bad for how the man’s fate had played out. He felt undeserving of his bow, but the man was gone now, and the least he could do was put the weapon to good use.
He thought about the gushing wound in Harv’s neck and winced. The blood had run down his neck, staining his clothes. And not long before he had seen the shadows and heard the voice.
“Amias, there is something that happened back at the camp that I wanted to talk with you about,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
“I saw a shadow in the fog. I ran from it, a beast-like shadow that wouldn’t leave me alone. When I closed my mind off from my power, it disappeared.”
Amias furrowed his brow. “A shadow?”
“Yes.” Owen bit his lip. “I mean, it could have been nymphs. I’m not sure. I keep seeing things, though. Shadows darting between the trees and the like. I’m not sure what to make of it.” He did not tell him of the voices, chalking it up instead to the shadows speaking to him.
For a while, Amias sat still. Then he said, “The mind is a fragile thing. Some Astrans . . . I suppose they may need to be careful with their power when they open their mind to it. There are records of some Astrans who reported such things. There is a name for them—Entities.”
“Entities,” Owen stated, frowning. “You mean like spirits?”
“Yes. Don’t look so alarmed. Opening your mind to your power can produce good, but it could also summon curious spirits. It may be a good idea to keep your mind closed when you’re not using your power. You can’t rely on it all the time, nor should you. You did good to close it off when it happened.”
“You said it could summon spirits. Do not all Astrans have this problem?”
“No. Some spirits are attracted to more powerful minds.” Amias looked at him curiously. “Entities have been around for a while now. They’re different from normal spirits who don’t bother anyone.”
“I’m assuming you know all this from the scrolls in Alacor’s massive library.” Owen smirked.
“Where else?”
“Too bad I couldn’t have read some of the texts in that place.”
“I’m the only textbook you’ll ever need. Ask me anything, just don’t get carried away with the questions.”
“Right,” Owen sighed. “So opening and closing my mind between channeling. Not an easy thing to do, like when I get readings on people.”
“It can be a hard thing to maintain. Like building a wall out of sticks and hoping it doesn’t come crashing down at the slightest gust of wind.”
“My mind was open. I was angry and channeled against a tree.”
“Anger invites frazzled spirits, if they’re around. It usually takes a great deal of power to gather them. Shutting your mind off helps your power stay within you, rather than spilling out where other things may be able to sense it. Things we can’t see. These Entities, these shadows, they were not always around. They didn’t float within the world until the goddess was entombed. They were documented not long after the Forty Years’ War. They first started showing up in Vanhelm, where the Gate is. It’s a breeding ground for spirits.”
“Oh, here we go,” Colt said, speaking for the first time since their conversation began.
> “What?” Amias snapped.
“A history lesson.”
“I know of the Gate,” Owen said. “A link to the spirit world, the Unseen Vale. But what does that have to do with Entities?”
Colt leaned forward and rummaged through his bag. “Has to do with Yuna. The goddess was a hussy, slept with any man she could. Bore several children and had them all killed.”
“Just please stop talking and let me tell the story the right way,” Amias said. “Owen, how many times have you heard this legend?”
“I’ve heard many renditions from villagers, and I heard it once in school, but I’d love to hear it from you.” Owen pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees, excitement flooding him.
“He’s about to put us both to sleep,” Colt muttered between puffs of his pipe.
“Shh.” Owen nudged him and looked back at Amias, who cleared his throat.
“Long ago, when the four gods resided within the Firmament, they were given the power to create their own world. Arcan was the giver of life, molding plants and animals and humans. He breathed air into them and gave them each a name.”
Owen smiled. He loved hearing about Arcan.
“Neti, his sister, gave all living things meaning. She gave them knowledge and reason, growth, and a system of reign where they could live in peace. And Meta, their younger brother, bestowed the will of choice, to love and to hate, to take one’s life into their own hands rather than follow a set of rules.”
“The god of chaos,” Owen said.
“He’s a ruler of free will,” Colt added, leaning slowly against the tree.
Owen looked curiously at him. “I thought you didn’t believe in the gods?”
“I don’t. I admire him, is all.”
“As I was saying,” Amias said. “The fourth goddess, Yuna, was free to give a gift to humans as well. She bestowed one man a touch of power, which only the gods could hold. But when the man took a wife and raised a family, his children were born with the power as well. The line continued, and for hundreds of years, those born with the power were known as Astrans, meaning they rained down from the heavens. They were accepted for a long time, until they began using their power for deceitful, malicious reasons. Many of them came into positions of leadership and abused their power, killing others with little regard for what they were truly doing. Many of them sought to be gods themselves. As a result, her brothers and sister sent Yuna down as a human to undo what she had done.
“She became a leader among the people, to both Astrans and non-Astrans alike. Not all of those with the power used it for wrongdoing, and they worked with her to help the powerful leaders in what we now call the citadels. Once Yuna succeeded, she began her reign in Luthien. But she’d been tasked with undoing what she had done, and with a dire warning from the gods, she apprehended the remaining Astrans who’d served her and Cleansed them. Not long after, she named her army the Legion. She constructed the original Core, and for many decades used it to eradicate the power of the Astrans.
“When the Union formed, Yuna had them hunted down. She had some of them Cleansed, and eventually many of them slaughtered. It was quicker to extract the power from dead bodies, but the power was weaker this way. The other gods were not happy about this, and they let it go on for too long. For the crimes committed against their own creations, Yuna’s siblings locked her away. But because they had interfered with their creations as gods, they were forced to flee the Firmament, and have been gone ever since.”
Owen was far away, his chin resting in his hand as he thought of the story. It was a curious, haunting thing to listen to. “Who forced the gods to flee?”
“Those who dwell in the Above. Forces beyond our intelligence. They hold counsel over those in the Firmament, and are not part of our world at all. It’s said they live in another realm.”
“So Yuna was entombed because she killed Astrans?”
“So it is said. She was not supposed to kill them. And when the gods entombed her, they committed the sin of interfering with our world.” Amias turned his tired eyes to Owen and leaned back against the tree. “They were not supposed to mess with anything. Not even send Yuna down. They were to blame.”
“And Yuna got the harshest punishment,” Owen said, staring out at the river as the evening light faded.
“Yes. As far as we know.” Amias ruffled the fire with a stick. “The Legion has suspected for a time now that she lies beyond the Gate. Many have tried to open it, with many keys, but the Gate stands still, perched upon a hill within a massive graveyard in Vanhelm. Nothing in front of it and nothing behind it. A mere ghost of a cell.”
“Have you ever seen it?”
Amias’s eyebrows quirked up. “No, no. I’ve seen drawings of it, and the council masters talked of it often. For a long time, the Gate was a destination for travelers. A wonder of the world. Now Legion soldiers watch it closely.”
“Curious,” Owen muttered.
“Hey.” Colt tapped Owen’s shoulder with his pipe. “Just remember in this ‘story’ that the woman slept with many men, and no doubt had lots of bastard children.” He chuckled, but Amias rolled his eyes.
“Yes, it is said that she had a child, or more, before she was entombed,” Amias said. “Her pure bloodline could very well be alive today, those the Legion calls Starborn.”
“So that’s why some people mention Astrans as Starborns.” Owen smiled.
“I suppose. Starborns supposedly come directly from her lineage.”
“I’ve never heard of it that way before,” Owen said. “I wish you had told me a long time ago. I would have written it down in my book that way, and not the way I was taught in school.”
“It’s what comes from working as a scholar.” Amias took up an apple to eat. “That is the closest you’ll come to hearing the real thing, I promise you that. It may just be a legend to most, but the Legion holds true to it, especially recently. They have many secrets the public is now starting to find out due to their resurrection of her temples. You’ll see a few dedicated to her as we venture down south. The old temples are more north, and they’re so weathered they just look like plain stone.”
“They put her statue in Emberton only a few days before I left. It was an odd thing to see.”
“Yes, several villagers were upset with it. You haven’t been down south in a while, though. They are building more temples, more than your lone statue in Emberton, for sure. In the past century, the Legion has gotten more serious about expanding their worship to the public. You’ll find lots of religious folk in Avathon, too.”
Colt smirked. “A touched lot they are. No gods to worship, and a being that isn’t even around to be idolized.”
Silence wafted between them. Owen had grown tired. Beside him, Colt leaned against his good shoulder. He had not seen the man so relaxed since their meeting. He savored the comfort, and when his companion smiled lazily at him, he looked away, his cheeks tinting pink. Then he lay down and slept.
Fog had taken over the sides of the river. Owen sat in the middle of the boat once again, rowing proved too difficult with his wounded arm. Instead, Amias took the rear as before, and Colt sat at the bow.
Feeling useless, Owen glanced around at the swirling mist over the water, his mind taking him back to the image of Colt stabbing Harv through the neck. Perhaps the Entity he’d possibly seen had tried to direct him away from danger. Or could it have been helping place him in Harv’s path? Either way, the memory unnerved him, and he had to take up his waterskin often, taking gulps of water to calm himself.
“The current is slow for miles,” Amias said, the dip of his and Colt’s oars breaking the tranquil stillness of the water.
Owen looked over the side of the boat, where a few big fish swam to the surface for bugs. “This is a good spot to fish. I can catch us dinner for later.”
Colt drew up his oar and stretched. “I’m all for that. We can take a break while you do it.”
While Owen put his f
ishing rod together and tied his hook on, Amias and Colt ate some berries from their provisions.
Owen used bits of bread on his hook and cast his line out into the water. The line moved along with the boat as it drifted slowly across the calm part of the river, and in no time he had caught a trout on the end. The morning was perfect for catches, as it was not too hot, and the clouds drifted in and out across the sun. After thirty minutes, Owen had caught them five fish. Once the last one swallowed the hook, they rowed once more down the river.
Satisfied that he had caught his companions' dinner, Owen smiled at the blackbirds as they flew overhead. Squirrels and chipmunks scurried from the water and up the bank, and at one point a red fox gazed at them as they drifted by.
Owen glanced at the trees, where a flash of white seemed to dart between the trunks. An Entity? he thought. But it was not like the shadows he had seen before. This looked like an animal, fluttering from one tree to the next.
As the day waned, the animal stopped following them, and the current picked up. Large, dangerous rocks littered the river ahead of them, and suddenly they were caught up in the middle.
“Row to the bank!” Amias shouted.
“I’m trying to,” Colt growled.
Owen gripped the sides of the boat as they neared a rapid. They dipped down, water splashing them all. As the current seized the boat, they turned sideways and went down a small rapid. It jolted him out of his seat into Amias, and Amias dropped his oar.
The boat jostled them all again as it flowed down another rapid, and the boat turned around.
“Shit, shit,” Colt yelled over the rushing water. “Up ahead! There’s a gap in the rocks. I’ll row us there!”
“We’ll hit it head-on—turn the boat!” Amias shouted. “Owen, hold on!”
Owen gripped the sides of the boat as it turned. The side crashed against a rock with a bang, sending him flying out of it. He hurdled across the slippery rock, scraping his face, and landed in the water, where the current grabbed him and carried him under.
Beyond the Core (The Starborn Series Book 1) Page 14