The Return of the Fifth Stone

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The Return of the Fifth Stone Page 9

by Vincent Todarello


  “I am Erdus,” he said again, introducing himself to Patreus and Fiama. “But I believe we met some time ago at Il'Nidim, before it was destroyed. You must be Patreus.”

  “Yes of course, I remember it well,” Patreus said as he formally greeted Erdus. “It’s a pleasure.”

  Patreus and Fiama were not as taken aback by the sight of the Aquidian as we were. They had obviously encountered fishkin before, though perhaps not for some time.

  “Has Felgor sent you?” Patreus asked. “He told me to call on you in his stead.”

  “No, though I do work with him. I am a messenger, but I do not have a message for you. This meeting was happenstance.”

  I thought to myself how fortunate I was to have met Erdus by chance, as I was about to be torn to bits by a giant serpent!

  “What brings you to these lands?” Patreus asked.

  “The impure have begun to ritually meet to worship the stones and those who possess dark items at the old Earthstone altar just beyond these pools, at the edge of the Great Divide. I am gathering information.”

  “With great risk I might add. You have much courage,” Patreus commented.

  “Felgor and I burrowed an underwater passage that connects this chasm pool to the Pure Shores just east of here, so that I may enter the land somewhat undetected,” he explained.

  “Is there any importance to this recent idolatry at the altar?” Patreus asked.

  “Indeed there is. Scievah has learned of the Hope and the text of the prophecy. He has tricked many, even some of those you call pure, into believing that four of his elite guard are the Divinae returned. They possess immense powers from the use of dark items, and those who believe in these false Divinae are pledging their souls to the cause,” he explained. “To what end, I do not know, but there is talk of mind control and dark wizardry.”

  “It is just as the Hope warns,” Fiama said with concern.

  “What is Scievah’s plan in all of this? Other than to corrupt us?” asked Patreus.

  “He is building an army, with which he plans to find the remaining three stones and destroy all who protect them. The Great War is coming. What’s worse is that I have not seen or heard from Felgor in quite some time. There are rumors.”

  “Rumors?” Patreus inquired, his eyes angled with a subtle, restrained and defensive anger.

  “They are just that, rumors. We have no truth or evidence to support them. I hope they are indeed false,” Erdus commented.

  “What kind of rumors?” Patreus continued.

  “You need not concern yourself with rumors, Patreus. What matters is the truth of Felgor's impressions upon you. If one believes every rumor about every man he encounters, he will never form an opinion of those men for himself. That being said, until anything can be confirmed, I insist again that you do not worry yourself about such hearsay. Besides, you and I have met only but twice, and you’ve known Felgor nearly all your life. There is no reason for you to mistrust him, as there is none yet for me either.”

  “Fair enough,” agreed Patreus.

  “And what is your business out here?” Erdus continued.

  “We are headed to Al’Adnim for Di’Veridae and to record a vision Valdren had.”

  “Vision?”

  “He was visited by Hemela of the Air.”

  “The prophecy is upon us. Is he ready?” He looked upon me with examining eyes.

  “No. But I hope he will be. I’ve been meaning to start his training but so much has happened,” replied Patreus.

  “Have faith, Patreus. He will be ready. That is given,” Erdus calmly stated.

  “Yes.” A lingering paused followed.

  “I apologize for my haste, but I truly must be going,” Erdus bowed. “I will give the Aquidians the news of Valdren’s vision. We are all committed to help, though I cannot speak with such certainty for the Lapisians.”

  Patreus chuckled. “Old grudges die hard.”

  “Indeed. Well, until we meet again?” Erdus held out his webbed hand and gave us all a formal farewell.

  “Nice to meet you, and thank you,” I said.

  “It’s an honor,” he replied.

  And then he elegantly glided back into the chasm pool with his dorsal fin held up, and he swiftly dove down into the deep waters with ease.

  I imagined what it would be like to swim as swiftly as he did and how different life would be with a tail rather than legs, and gills. I rubbed my neck again, as it was still itching slightly. Then I realized what it could be; my own gills! My suspicion was immediately confirmed.

  “Hey!” Lunaris cried. “Valdren has gills!”

  “An Aquidian trait has emerged. Perhaps you will one day sprout the wings of a Lapisian,” laughed Patreus.

  #

  Something Patreus said to Erdus piqued my interest. I inquired about it as we dried off from our adventure in the chasm pool.

  “Patreus, what did you mean when you said that old grudges die hard about the Lapisians?” I asked.

  “There is a saying, a rhyme; water and air did see land and fire, fall from grace to the stone’s desire, which means—”

  “Why does everything always have to rhyme?” Deius complained, interrupting him.

  “Believe it or not, that is actually an important question, Deius,” Patreus answered with a sense of frustration. “The answer,” he continued, “is that when Scievah took control he forbade any writings or books that spoke badly of him or were in praise of the king. He burned them and killed or jailed anyone who resisted. So the pure were left to memorize much of the history and stories of the ancient times out of fear that possessing any written literature would lead to punishment. An easy way to memorize things is to rhyme them or sing them. That is what the pure did.”

  “Sing it for us Patreus,” I cheered.

  He bashfully chuckled. “No, I couldn’t.”

  “Come on Father,” Peitus urged.

  “Well...” Patreus contemplated indulging us.

  “I’ll sing it with you,” Fiama supported.

  “Alright. Sounds like a deal.”

  Patreus cleared his throat and he began to sing the hymn-like couplet, with Fiama harmonizing to Patreus’ lead.

  “Water and Air did see Land and Fire,

  Fall from grace to the stone’s desire.

  Up in the Canopy, out to the Sea;

  Away from Fire and Land they did flee.”

  The tune sounded somber and sad, and there was silence among us for a moment afterward as we reflected on the words in the enchanting rhyme. Then Patreus jokingly took a bow to cut the melancholy mood, and we all applauded. Patreus’ cheeks turned rosy with embarrassment. He lit his pipe to mask his shyness, struggling at first with dampened flint and smoker's leaf.

  “There is more, but, oh now, where was I?” he bumbled.

  “Why would the Lapisians have a grudge against us?” I reminded.

  “Ah yes, simply put, they didn’t trust us or the Uhaareti, since they had basically watched the lot of us fall to Scievah’s deceit and grow a desire for the power of the stones. Also, since the corrupt arrest the pure on sight, this is a very dangerous place for Lapisians and Aquidians to be. No Lapisian or Aquidian ever returned to Ahaareta or Uhaaretu since the Firestone Wars, that is, until Tumain did.”

  “Tumain?” The name was familiar from my readings of the genealogies in the Hope. “My grandfather?” I asked.

  “Yes, Valdren, your mother’s father; a Lapisian. He feared these lands, as did many others who wrote them off as totally corrupt,” said Patreus.

  “So that is why my father kept my mother and me a secret?”

  “Indeed. So you see, we are lucky to have the support of the Aquidians,” he said.

  “Why wouldn’t the Lapisians help too?”

  “They feel we should be punished for being the cause of the suffering in this world, and in a sense they are correct. But I know they will help. They must. The fate of all Haareti depends on it, not just the fate of the f
allen Ahaareti and Uhaareti. And besides, it is prophecy.”

  “What is a prophecy?” I asked.

  “It is a prediction of the future. A divine foretelling of future events that will come to pass.” Patreus puffed furiously on his pipe to keep it lit against the wetness, but his wrinkled brow told me there was more on his mind. It seemed that much depended on this prophecy coming to pass. With a sense of unease, I gathered my dried belongings. We continued onward.

  CHAPTER 6

  We continued north toward the Locht Span Bridge, which would allow for easy crossing of the Great Divide. The terrain was wooded, and our steps crunched the dried leaves beneath our feet, making for noisy travel. We sounded like marching soldiers.

  Soon we came upon the Great Divide; an incredible and wondrous sight indeed. It was vast and deep, as if Haareti would be but specks of dirt in size at the bottom from where we stood. At the base there was what seemed to be a trickle of water, though I imagined up close the water would be a deep pool or a roaring rapid, as yet only minimally filled with the falling waters of the Tillian.

  We were awestruck at this gigantic crevasse. A feeling of wooziness filled my stomach as I peered out over the edge and down into the abyss, peeking through the tree roots that stuck out along the top of the chasm. I assumed that when the chasm was torn into the earth and the ground fell away, the exposed roots were left hanging out in the air. The trees on the south side of the ravine still had life in them, despite some of their roots dangling out over the chasm. But across the chasm the trees looked dried out and dead, brittle and wilted due to the lack of moisture in the ground.

  “How is the Tillian still flowing with water?” Peitus wondered. “Wouldn’t it all fall into the chasm?”

  “Tashik is a thick and wet jungle. There is much rainfall that pours down from its mountains to replenish the Tillian. The Earthstone is still strongly supporting much of our land, aside from the desert. Down in Uhaaretu, however, things are much more volatile because Scievah has the Firestone,” explained Patreus. “To the east of here is Ahaareta Falls, a site we must surely take in from the other side once we cross the Locht Span Bridge.”

  “Does this reach down into Uhaaretu?” I asked.

  “Indeed it does." Patreus pointed. "You see there, those tunnels. I imagine the Uhaareti burrowed those out to view this, or perhaps the tunnels pre-existed the chasm and were severed in two when the Great Divide was first torn into the earth in the time of the ancients.”

  The tunnels dotted the sides of the chasm like raisins embedded in freshly baked pumpernickel bread. There were also some large cave-like expanses scattered about. My eyes drifted in the vastness of the Great Divide. It stretched as far as the eye could see to the west, and, to the east, it seemed to end at the foot of a tall palatial tower.

  “Is that the altar the Aquidian spoke of?” Lunaris asked, as I fixed my eyes eastward upon the palace in the distance.

  “Yes. I had planned to show it to you. The ruins are spectacular and ancient, as it is where the Earthstone once sat. But it is fortunate we were discovered by Erdus, for we would have walked directly into the hands of the impure who are gathering there. The bridge is a bit further in that direction.” Patreus motioned east. “We must be cautious. The impure may be lingering about.”

  We walked east along the chasm toward the bridge, keeping a fervent watch on the path ahead and all around us. The woodland along the edge of the chasm was beautiful. Multicolored emerald, ruby and gold tree leaves sprinkled the soft, lush ground. The canopy covered us with a quiet shade that made a good home for many different kinds of birds and small woodland creatures. Trees were spaced apart comfortably from one another and made for easy maneuvering through the wood on foot. A gentle breeze whistled across the foliage and the fresh earthy scent of the woods filled our noses and invigorated us.

  Over the ledge of the Great Divide I could see what appeared to be a long staircase carved into the northern wall, leading up from a large tunnel. My eyes followed it all the way up to the surface across the Divide, where I saw a line of what looked like Uhaareti descending the stairs. I quickly alerted the others.

  “Look, across the Divide on the stairway.”

  “Hide quickly,” Patreus commanded as soon as he saw. “Behind the trees.”

  We scattered away from the ledge and hid ourselves behind some trees, out of view. After a few moments Patreus peeked his head around the tree to observe them.

  “They have started to enter the tunnel. We’ll wait a few moments longer to be safe,” he said.

  We waited in silence. Then, in the distance, I heard footsteps crunching among the leaves to the south. The others did not hear them, as they began chattering and gathering themselves for the continued journey.

  “Shh!” I quieted them. “There is someone out there, to the south. I hear footsteps,” I whispered.

  I motioned for the others to stay quietly where they were, and I crept silently toward the footsteps. I moved as Felgor would have, though I had to be extra cautious in the daylight. In short bursts I bounded between thick trees that would conceal my body. After a moment I came upon them. I carefully made each step at the same time they did to obscure any noise I might have made, and I carefully ascended a tree for an uncompromised view.

  They soon approached and passed beneath me, a dozen or so Ahaareti lead by three giant sized Ahaareti, all bearing the crest of the black raven like the one I had seen the day my mother was taken. The giants were three times my height and walked with long strides, thudding the ground with each step. I had heard tales of giants, but they were fictitious stories according to Deius and Lunaris. No giants were known to actually exist, they said.

  At the front of the group was a severely malformed Haareti. I guessed he was an Ahaareti, but he could have been anything. His face was scrunched on one side, and on the other his jaw jutted out nearly sideways from his cheek. Boils and pimples scattered across his splotchy toned face. He was tainted by a dark item, I thought. He wore thick leather body armor, and he carried a long sword in a sheath along his waist. A shield was strapped to his back. Four equally terrifying men flanked him; two on each side. They were draped with plain, tattered black hooded robes, carrying roughly carved wooden staves. Their pale, pasty skin only showed between the cuffs of their robe sleeves and the staves they grasped. They looked sickly, malnourished; nothing more than bones wrapped in skin. When they passed under me I smelled a wretched odor, like rotting meat and foul old cheese.

  Suddenly my mouth filled up with sick. The bitter and vile taste compounded the stench from the robed men below. My senses overwhelmed, I opened my mouth against the trunk of the tree, letting the vomit come out slowly, silently dripping down the corky bark. But my throat quietly gurgled and then gasped with relief. The men below stopped in their tracks. They looked all around, in every direction but up. The volatile and decayed smell lingered, filling my nose again.

  I held my breath, hoping perhaps that my gills would take over breathing for my mouth and nose. It didn't work; the scent only got worse as it wafted up to me, passing through my gills and directly into my lungs. The stench filled me inside. I was bound to retch again, this time more clearly giving up my position.

  But a thought came to me. I reached into my pocket, stunned and relieved that the shiny blue stone from the riverbank remained there. I pulled it out and quickly hurled it to the south. It fell to the ground among the dried leaves, making a faint noise that distracted the men. They heard it and followed the sound to investigate.

  But not the four men in robes; they stayed under the tree, somehow drawn to me, along with their foul odor. Still battling the urge to vomit, I put my hands over the gills on my neck, took a deep breath, and held it.

  The robed men inspected the area briefly, but only left on the orders of their disfigured leader. They continued south, toward the Chasm Pools. They did not find my stone, or, more importantly, me. Once their footsteps faded from my ears I descended the tre
e, retrieved my lucky stone, and made my way back to the others, who dutifully remained quiet and hidden in the wood.

  “Are you mad? You could have gotten captured!” worried Peitus.

  I ignored the comment, as I could tell by his brightened eyes that he was somewhat impressed with my actions, though he was right. “There were sixteen of them. Ahaareti. A dozen men, three giants, and their leader, a terribly malformed Ahaareti," I reported.

  “Giants?” Deius asked with widened eyes.

  “Yes. At least three times my size.”

  “I thought you said they were just stories,” Lunaris said to Fiama.

  “They were. They are. I’ve never seen a giant and I always thought they were just made up stories,” said Fiama.

  “Their size must be somehow related to Scievah’s misdeeds and use of the stones,” Patreus reasoned. “A malformed Ahaareti you said?”

  “Yes. In training armor, I think. He must have been their leader.”

  “It could have very well been Hadlick,” Patreus concluded.

  The name was familiar. I remembered it from the genealogies in the Hope. A notation was made about Hadlick; he was known as Hadlick the Barbarian, and he was severely disfigured due to his impurity. Hadlick was a vicious soldier, a fearsome and evil warrior. And he was my father’s half-brother.

  “Four of the men dressed in black robes and carried staves,” I added. “They smelled of death.”

  “Those could be the dark wizards Erdus spoke of.”

  “What is a dark wizard?” I asked.

  “There are some people who can sense the magic of the stones when they are near. It is a remnant of the gifts we once had as truly pure men, but it has faded with generations of corruption. A dark wizard is someone who has nurtured this sense and uses his powers to help Scievah,” Patreus explained.

  “Are there any who use it for good?” I asked.

  “One cannot," Patreus answered. "At least that is the common belief. It is as if they are touching the stone or drinking from the fountain when they use their abilities. As an impure Haareti, it would only cause destruction.”

 

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