“Kalvis this is incredible,” I remarked. “Thank you so much.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said.
“It’s so light,” I commented.
“The blade is forged from a rare mineral only found deep in Uhaaretu. Light as a feather, and as strong as steel. I hope it serves you well,” he added.
“It will,” I responded as I sheathed the blade and shouldered it across my back. I returned to the others in the front of the shop. Kalvis followed behind me.
“What do I owe you for your services?” Patreus asked while thumbing through some silver coins in his hand.
“Consider it a gift in celebration of today’s feast,” Kalvis suggested.
“No. Please, I must compensate you and your apprentices somehow. Let me at least purchase something from you,” said Patreus.
“If you insist. Are you in need of anything?” he asked.
“Not particularly, no. But perhaps there is something I can purchase for Fulton to make it easier for him to continue his work? He seems to be down on his spirits. He finds it difficult to work his craft as he becomes weak and frail in his old age,” Patreus explained.
“Yes, I have the perfect thing,” Kalvis said. “A set of small precision tools should help him rely less on his fingers.” Patreus handed Kalvis some silver coins and the exchange was made.
We crossed the square and headed back to Fulton’s shop. He was sitting at his bench again, polishing some trinkets.
“Good morning Fulton,” announced Patreus as the bell rang above our heads.
Startled, Fulton looked up from his work, unaware that we had entered. A smile soon filled his face. “Joy to you all. Come in. I have some special things for you.” He motioned for us to come to him.
Fulton seemed much more cheerful. As we approached his bench, he presented us with a handful of talismans, each attached to a length of twine for wearing around the neck. Each talisman seemed to be the same design; the shape of a spear tip made from four different triangular colored stones, fashioned in a stone colored metallic setting.
“These are lovely,” Fiama remarked.
“The Spear of Hope,” Fulton responded. “The red balitstone represents the Uhaareti, the green tashkite represents the Ahaareti, the blue marble-eye is for the Aquidians, and the yellow luftstone is the Lapisians. Four races united into one stone,” he explained.
“Absolutely beautiful work, Fulton,” Patreus added. “I’d say you have improved your skill with age!”
“Thank you. Making these helped lift and revitalize my spirits.”
“Here,” Patreus said, handing Fulton the satchel of tools he purchased from Kalvis. “Perhaps this will help you continue crafting such amazing artistry.”
“Micro tools,” he said with delight, knowing precisely what it was. “But this is not necessary.”
“Consider it a gift in celebration of Di'Veridae.” Patreus smiled.
“Joy to you,” Fulton said again. “This will add cycles to my craft. What a blessing of hope.”
“Joy to you as well Fulton,” said Patreus.
We all thanked Fulton for his work, and adorned our necks with his talismans.
"What is the Spear of Hope?" I asked.
"It is a symbol that represents Ver’Deiro’s four forms; king, Haareti, stone and spirit. The shape takes its form from the shape of the spearheads the impure used to take his life,” explained Patreus.
“Why was he killed?” I asked.
“The charge was public worship, but as rightful heir to rule Haaret, Ver’Deiro represented a threat to Scievah’s power. That was the real reason he was executed.”
As we made our way back into the town square, Patreus pulled me aside.
“Valdren, there is something I neglected to tell you about the prophecy,” he said. “I left out part when I read it to you all on our journey.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Well, first let me say that often times prophecy can be cryptic and riddlesome. We don’t always know what the words mean.” He prepared me for bad news. “The exact words were lost some time ago when your father’s things were burned in raids upon members of the rebellion, long before you were born, and long before we learned to be more secretive. We only know the rhyme that we spoke to keep the memory alive," he continued. "You see, whereas the other parts of the prophecy were told to all who witnessed Ver'Deiro’s spirit, this part of the prophecy was told only to your father, because Ver’Deiro knew that your father would sire the Unity.” A grave demeanor swept over him. I could see in his eyes that he struggled with what he was about to tell me.
“The prophecy rhyme is completed as such:
When blood from the impure lines mixes with the pure,
The Fifth Stone will return with the blood of all four.
The Divinae shall assemble an army for war,
And the Unity will conquer evil and bring peace forevermore.
But take heed, for the mountains will bleed,
The ground will quake and the very skies will break.
And all will be lost, lest there is payment of a cost:
Peace shall extinguish the flames of the Unity’s fire,
For when evil does diminish, the Fifth Stone must too expire.”
He lingered for a moment. “Valdren, the cost of replacing the four stones back on their altars will be the end of the Fifth Stone.” I was puzzled. “You see, Valdren, I believe that you are the Fifth Stone that has returned. You are the Unity who will destroy Scievah and bring us balance again,” he continued.
“So if the prophecy is true, then I will… expire?” I asked, confused.
“Yes. I fear that would mean your death!” Patreus said bluntly. Fear raced through me. “I don’t mean to cause you alarm, Valdren, but I felt you needed to know, after all you may read it sooner or later in your book.”
Not knowing how to take this news, I made light of it. “Well, you said yourself that a prophecy can be cryptic. Perhaps it is best we don’t dwell on it too much.”
“Wise indeed,” he said. “That is the best course for now, until we know more. I am here if you need to speak to someone, or if it begins to trouble you,” he offered.
“Thank you, Patreus.”
When he left my side I flipped through the pages of the Hope, now knowing the meaning behind the spear shape etched on its spine. But my mind was elsewhere, dwelling on the question of my mortality. I searched for answers about the prophecy, but it was just as Patreus said. Cryptic, and only known or recalled by rhyme and song. "Expire," I muttered. “It could mean many things,” I reassured myself.
Perhaps it was something other than death that hung in the balance. Whatever it meant, I did not like thinking about it. I feared it. I shut it away.
#
We helped some townsfolk pack things onto wheeled carts for a short time. Then the bustling square seemed to empty as everyone headed up to Al’Adnim to set up for the feast. We followed behind the bulk of the travelers, leisurely strolling our way north. Deius continued practicing and it seemed he had gotten more skilled still.
We were joined by another man, Gerron, who Patreus introduced as a fellow councilman in the rebellion against Scievah. Like the others, he too formally greeted me as if he already knew me.
Gerron was a tremendous man. He stood a full head and shoulders above Patreus and was nearly twice as wide. He was not fattened, however. He seemed to be a man of solid musculature and athleticism; a true warrior.
“Will Valdren be joining us at the council in the temple today?” he asked Patreus.
“Yes. Valdren had a vision of Hemela of the Air, and exhibited signs of the Fifth Stone,” explained Patreus.
“You will provide testimony to the council to this effect?” Gerron pressed.
“Yes. If needed, my family could recount their experiences of the signs as well,” Patreus offered.
“That shouldn’t be necessary. If the Saubit raise many doubts, we can always retr
ieve them from the festival to quickly offer their experiences. However, I think your credibility goes a long way to account for truth and accuracy.”
“Who are the Saubit?” I asked, to their surprise. They did not realize I was paying attention to their conversation.
“They are an appointed group of skeptics on the council. They believe in the prophecies, but they continually test their faith and demand evidence to support it,” explained Gerron.
“They can be quite a burden at times,” Patreus added.
“I disagree. While I frown upon their lack of faith on certain issues, I commend them for their pursuit of truth. After all, a faith untested is a faith easily bested,” Gerron quoted an old rhyme.
“Indeed. An unbiased pursuit of truth is commendable. My concern lies not in a rigorous pursuit of truth, but rather I distrust their motives. They have a certain capacity to be misguided by agendas that often run contrary to the truth and could therefore blind them to it or lead them further from it in fulfillment of more personal goals,” Patreus carefully explained.
“What goals?” I pressed.
“Whether it is money, stature in their community or town, or that they owe others favors. This could cloud their judgment and their ability to see the truth clearly and objectively,” Patreus answered.
“They do have a way of keeping us sharp on our toes,” Gerron interjected with optimism.
“Yes, they do. The opposition and skepticism forces us to continually examine our ideological strengths and weaknesses,” said Patreus.
“And to be reaffirmed that they are good, just, right and true,” added Gerron.
I understood. Gerron and Patreus had such evidence and conviction to defend their beliefs that even the sharpest criticism would fall short of being persuasive to the contrary. There is a great confidence that comes with such continued and successful testing over time.
As we continued our travel north, the distant wall of green and brown that was the Hem’l Canopy came into focus and detail. The sun rose up high in the sky, illuminating what was the most incredible thing I had seen on this journey.
The trunks of the trees reached up into the clouds and sometimes went up through them. The behemoths were as tall as the Great Divide was deep; perhaps even taller. Some of the more enormous trunks were as wide as the Tillian River, spanning as much space as all of Kal’Adria.
The canopy was so thick that I imagined one could walk atop the trees as one walks on grass and earth on the ground. The sun did not penetrate through the treetops, and this caused the wood to be dark and cool, shaded from the sunlight and heat. It was as if a torch would be needed to venture deep under the Hem’l Canopy. I imagined the ground to be covered with a bed of damp leaves, moss and fungus.
With my eyes fixed on Hem’l, I had not realized that we reached our destination and that Gerron had parted from us. We walked through a tall thicket along a narrow path, and soon we were in a small farm-sized grassy clearing along the edge of Hem’l. A few tree trunks acted like a wall along the north edge of the clearing, and the tall brush surrounded the clearing on the other sides. It was isolated and hidden.
The clearing was bustling with preparatory activities. Everyone was setting up feast tables and games of skill and chance. There were outdoor cooking ovens with fires roaring, minstrels setting up to play music, and men rolling barrels of ale brews all about. There were many Ahaareti, a few Uhaareti as well, but no Lapisians. Old grudges die hard.
Seemingly uninterested in all the excitement, Deius continued to practice his fighting techniques with his new sword. I noticed that he brought his water skin with him. Even if he did fill it with the forbidden waters, it was nearly empty. I had seen great improvement in his skill, and an improved focus, but his demeanor toward the rest of us had improved as well, which was the opposite of what I expected to happen if he drank from the fountain. Perhaps he had changed back to his old cheerful ways.
"Are you ready to go to the temple?" Patreus asked with a hand on my shoulder.
"Yes. You and Erdus mentioned another temple..."
"Il'Nidim," Patreus interrupted.
"Where you met him."
"Yes, and where Ver’Deiro's spirit told your father to go," Patreus added.
"Why did he tell him to go there?" I pressed.
"Your father was skeptical of Ver’Deiro. When your father was corrupt, Ver’Deiro helped him to change. When Ver’Deiro's spirit visited your father, your father vowed to live a pure life. Then Ver’Deiro told him the prophecy, and told him to go tell it to the people hiding in the old temple. They feared being punished, so they hid. When your father came, they thought they were going to be executed. They were relieved when they learned that he came in peace, and with Ver’Deiro's message."
"Where is Il'Nidim?"
"It was destroyed soon after I met Erdus, because the impure found out about our meetings. Since then, we have held our meetings here in the secret northern temple of Al'Adnim."
I couldn't help but feel that the fragile rebellion could shatter at any moment, even with its temple sheltered beneath the strong and dense trees of Hem'l.
CHAPTER 12
The air was cool and still; it was calming under the Hem'l Canopy. We walked for a few moments before coming upon a stone stairway hidden among some low lying bushes. At the bottom of the stairway there was a wooden door with a viewing slat cut away at Patreus' eye level. Patreus gave a quick four knocks, and then one more after a slight pause. The slot opened for a moment and then shut quickly, just before the heavy door swung open to reveal the inside of the temple.
We stepped into a large circular meeting room. The walls were made of stone blocks and earth, but on the right hand side, next to the door, a large root the width of a stag oak curled down from above and wrapped its way around the wall along the floor, forming a bench that encircled the room. In the middle of the circular room there was a large circular wooden table. Three doorways led into other rooms, and there were eleven other Haareti sitting on the bench around the table; four Aquidians, four Uhaareti, and three other Ahaareti besides Patreus. Gerron was one of them.
Still enamored with the sight of the Aquidians, I stared in awe at their magnificence. I thought of how much they risked to be there, since Aquidians would most likely be arrested on sight by those loyal to Scievah.
Patreus greeted some of the councilmen before quickly escorting me into one of the rooms. The room was lined with bookshelves and filled with tomes, both ancient and new. Patreus pulled a loosely bound stack of yellowed and frayed parchment papers from atop a large study bench. The book, if one could call it that, was square shaped, and the size of an arm's span on the sides. Patreus leafed through its dusty pages until his eyes fell upon one particular drawing.
"There she is. Hemela, of the air." Reverence filled his voice.
"It's just like my drawing," I said as my eyes skittered across the crumbling details of the ancient depiction. I handed Patreus my journal and he thumbed to my drawing to compre it.
"Almost an exact match," he verified.
He put the collection of large documents aside and removed a volume from the shelf, flipping to a page that had been half filled with scripted entries of some kind.
"Ah," he remarked. "Someone has copied the information into a new book."
"What is it?" I asked.
"This is where we will make a record of the dark item we recovered from the ogre in the desert," he explained as he filled in some information with the quill and ink that sat on a dearby desk. I looked on as he wrote a description of the item, stating that it had been recovered and not just witnessed.
"This is strange." His brow wrinkled with puzzlement. I looked on with him, closer. "Back at the farm Felgor said he read in the log books that Hadut the Betrayer, the spy in our woods, was already seen wearing a dark item." He flipped back some pages, searching for the entry. "Yet there is no mention in the log book."
Patreus began to write another entry for
Hadut's item, this time specifying that it was witnessed but not recovered.
"Could Felgor have been mistaken?" I asked.
"It's possible, but unlikely. Felgor is a very deliberate and calculating man, as you know. A man who rarely is mistaken. But why the misdirection on an issue such as this?" he pondered.
Then Patreus knelt down and removed another book from a shelf down below; its title was the Book of Recovered Power. When he opened it I saw that the inside pages had been hollowed out to form a hidden compartment within the book. Patreus reached into his pocket and pulled out the dark item. He placed it inside the hollow book, and then returned the book onto the shelf below.
"Come," he said. "It's time for the meeting."
As we took our seat at the root bench around the circular table in the main room, I peeked into the other two connecting rooms. One was a sleeping quarters of some kind with several bunked beds. The other was a long and narrow room. In it, several large roots ran across the floor parallel to one another to form rows of benches. At the far end of the room there was a large wooden carving of a spear head mounted on the stone wall, and many candles were placed throughout the room.
"The Council of Al'Adnim will now come to order for this cycle's meeting," said one of the Ahaareti men.
The meeting was structured and orderly. Many topics of official business were discussed. Each councilman was given a specific amount of time to discuss things, raise questions, and offer suggestions. I was soon able to determine which members were the Saubit, the appointed skeptics, as they seemed to offer opposing viewpoints to nearly every issue upon which the council deliberated. The Saubit consisted of one Uhaareti, one Ahaareti, and one Aquidian.
When it was Patreus' turn to speak, he first began by introducing me to the council. They all knew of me, as did the others I met on our journey. Patreus continued, discussing why he believed I was the Unity, explaining how my lineage fulfilled the prophecy.
After this, I was asked to recount all that had happened since my parents were taken captive by Scievah's soldiers. I began by telling them about the vision I had. In comparing my drawing to the ancient depictions of Hemela, most of the council was in agreement that I was indeed visited by the Divinae.
The Return of the Fifth Stone Page 17