Sighing, he allowed his mind to settle down. He hated the darkness that came with being blind and with great restraint, refrained from pushing himself further.
He and his sister were orphans, the lone survivors of a raid on one the settlements to the north. They had been no more than four at the time and held no memories of what life had been like before that. All he did recall was that when the fighting started, he and his sister were playing in a barn and had quickly fled up the ladder to hide in the loft above.
Bandits sacked their village and he had listened to the screams of his fellow countrymen as they were slaughtered to the last man. He could remember laying there in the darkness, hearing their cries, tears flowing down his face; his sister’s comforting arms wrapped around him. The reason he could remember that so vividly was that it was the first time his powers had risen to the surface. The stress must have triggered them, and though he had no recollection of knowing so at the time, he could guess that he unwittingly diverted any of the bandits from finding the two of them cowering in that loft. It was the only explanation for their survival. The rest of the village had been torched, but the lone barn remained untouched.
He remembered the first time he touched his sister’s thoughts and the welcoming of her mind as she became aware of his presence. They shared everything else in their lives, why not this? The bond between them grew and while doing so, he made a startling discovery that changed his life forever. While he was traversing the regions of her mind, he began to see flashes of images within his head. It startled him, it was the first time he’d seen anything other than occasional color or creative dreams. Curious, he probed deeper, his sister grunting as he tried to recreate what had just happened. Finally, the world came into view and his heart had swelled, tears bursting from his soul. Concerned, Reyna had tried to pull away, but he didn’t want to let go and clung to her closely, unable to voice the joy he felt in his heart.
He had opened up his mind to her, let her see what he was experiencing; understanding and joy filling her soul as well. From that point on, he trained his mind to automatically find that part of a person’s brain and use it to see without violating their inner thoughts in the process. It was a painstaking task, but the reward of sight was too much for him to just give up.
No one even knew what was going on. He could shield his intrusions and still use their eyes to see the world around him. The hard part was learning to navigate with the different perspectives provided. He spent a lot of time stumbling around nauseated, and he’d lost track of how many times he’d vomited from vertigo. Yet his brain slowly adjusted, and it soon became second nature to him; his mind trained to the point of doing it without the intense concentration those early years required.
They had been taken in by a traveling merchant who happened upon their gutted village and stopped to check for survivors. A lonely man, he had long since given up the idea of having a family of his own and was more than willing to open himself up and allow them to stay. Jared spent most of his time in the back of the wagon, exploring his new abilities and testing his limits.
Several years passed and they were well taken care of and happy. Then one night, they had made camp north of Grendweir and got attacked by a band of goblin raiders. He found himself once more huddling in the arms of his sister, as the merchant they had taken to calling father was cut down in front of them.
He couldn’t understand their language, even their thoughts were alien, but he sensed their intent. They were searching for someone. He tried to use his growing power to shield them from view, but he was only seven and wasn’t strong enough to persuade their alien minds. The goblins drug them apart, as they tried to figure out which child was the one they’d been sent to retrieve. His blindness got him discarded as the candidate and his survival instincts had kicked in fast enough to make the goblin ordered to kill him believe he’d done so. He was left in a ditch, his sister’s screams echoing throughout his frenzied mind as they tied her up and drug her away.
He had been alone, blind, and should’ve died, but he had used his telepathy to find a group of dwarven sappers traveling through the area and got one of them to hear his pleas. They found him there huddled in the dark, the merchant’s wagon blazing, and the poor man’s body discarded. There were many questions to follow but he had been too torn up over the loss of his sister to answer. Bundled in blankets, they had thrown him on the back of one of their horses and brought him to Grendweir to see their clerics.
He was fifteen when he walked away from the dwarven capitol, having been taken in by a family who took pity on the twice-orphaned blind boy. They didn’t know about his powers and he never answered any questions about what happened the night they snatched his sister. They assumed, wrongfully, that their God had told them to change their course and the clerics had hoisted him up as a symbol of His divinity.
He had spent eight years with the dwarves, keeping to himself, expanding his abilities, planning for the day he’d head north and find out what became of Reyna. They had fought his departure, but he was insistent and would not be delayed any longer. He had grown proficient with his staff, learning to hone his other senses; using them to direct his strikes. He refused to let himself become the vulnerable blind boy again.
He traveled north in the company of a horse given to him on his supposed twelfth birthday. Through its eyes, he navigated the forest and made it to the plains once more. He traveled past the human settlements, using his powers to steal food in order to conserve the little coin he had for trade, none the wiser as he passed through their midst in obscurity. He was warned by patrols that the north was no place for a blind boy, but he simply nudged them with his mind and moved them along. He was determined to find his sister, no matter the cost.
On the border of the Deadlands was a sole Human fortress—Alamar. Through his horse’s eyes, he studied the castle from a distance. Nestled against the side of a mountain, it had been heavily fortified; the only barrier between the hordes that infested the Deadlands and the rest of the populated lands to the south. A giant wall stretched from tower to tower and the smoke rising from the other side spoke to the fact that it was currently under siege. It had been that moment when he felt a familiar flicker on the surface of his mind and his heart surged with hope; after nearly nine years of being apart, he had felt the flicker of his sister’s presence once more.
He mounted his horse and rode towards one of the towers lining the wall stretching west. He could sense from the men guarding it that there was a gate nearby, used by the cavalry to run down attacking hordes or raid the lands to the north. Talking to them wasn’t an option, they’d never let a blind boy through the wall under any circumstances. Instead, he made himself invisible to their eyes and made the man guarding the gate forget that he opened it to let the thin, blindfolded boy through.
North of his position, he could see through that guard’s eyes that Alamar had been besieged by a very large horde of goblins and orcs, being driven forward by overly large and unforgiving creatures wielding whips. They were gray, with large wings, talons, and horns protruding from their brows. He had shivered at the sight and his resolve nearly broke, but then he felt her again in the midst of command tents situated to the rear of the army and felt his drive increased ten-fold.
He had tied up his horse, hating to leave his “eyes” behind but not wanting to task himself too much by having to hide it as well. Blind, he slowly made his way towards the enemy army. He had to rely on his hearing to warn him of scouts, as he used his telepathy to home in and track his sister’s presence.
When he came closer to the rear skirmish lines, his sight returned as his mind automatically touched the goblin patrols and relayed their vision back to him. He envisioned himself as an orc and projected that towards anyone that looked in his direction. Hesitantly, he stepped through the sentry lines, waiting to see if it was going to work. When he didn’t get challenged, he had let out a sigh of relief, and felt for the warm glow of his sister just ahe
ad.
It had taken every bit of his concentration to keep from being discovered, but it paid off as he entered one of the tents and found her standing in front of a table reading maps. That she was alive made his heart surge from his chest and he almost forgot to keep his defenses up. She turned to look at him and he felt hope that she’d recognize him; that she’d be overjoyed and embrace him once more; he’d been sorely disappointed.
She had been armored as she was now, in pure black and red, her helmet bearing horns, just like the nasty creatures driving the army to attack the castle. She was obviously not a hostage and actually looked to be a commander planning the next wave of attacks. Her eyes showed no hint of recognition, though he hadn’t shielded himself from her and she’d seen him for who he was. The suspicion and alarm on her face alerted him to the fact that she was about to call for the guards stationed outside her tent, which he could not allow. He had no choice but to dive into her mind and stop her.
It surprised him when he hit a brick wall. Her mental defenses were stronger than any he had ever encountered up to that point and he had to let everything else go in order to maintain the attack. Though he had vowed to never be vulnerable again, in those minutes of struggle between brother and sister, anyone entering the tent would see him as he truly was. That was the first time his nose had bled, as he broke through her wall one stone at a time, giving everything he had to try and reach his sister.
“Reyna, please, it’s Jared,” he had plead, trying to distract her concentration long enough to get in.
“Jared is dead,” she had responded in a flat monotone voice. What had they done to her? She had reached for her sword and was intending to cut him down. Horrified, he swiftly struck her with the butt of his staff just below the chin, his soul filled with despair as her head snapped back and she fell to the ground unconscious.
Her guard was finally down, and he instantly changed his projection to one of those nasty winged creatures he’d seen outside. A guard had pulled back the tent flap and looked in his direction. He tried to give a menacing sneer. It must have worked because the flap closed instantly. He knew she wouldn’t be unconscious long, so he took advantage of her vulnerability and drove his mind into hers. Images had ripped through his soul. Of her being taken before an evil witch dressed in red, her rage over having been brought the wrong child.
They had been ordered to come after him not her! This was all his fault! The beatings, the torture—he felt them all.
Over the years, she had been personally molded by the Phoenix into an instrument of evil. She had been trained in warfare, became skilled with every weapon in their arsenal, and was rewarded with the black armor she wore to this day. In horror, he watched as his sister bent a knee and swore fealty to the evil bitch that had abused her; that made her into this evil shell at his feet.
The guilt he felt was immeasurable. This would’ve been him had they not disregarded him due to his handicap.
She had begun to wake up and he drove himself deeper in, doing something he had never dared before; he seized control of her mind. She resisted, but he was already too far for her efforts to do any good. Her mind reacted violently to the invasion, but her body had remained still; he was in full control. He had made her stand up and face him, the hate in her eyes breaking his heart in two. Not about to give up and refusing to leave her behind, he walked them out of the tent and to her tethered horse nearby.
It had been a harrowing escape. He had to constantly fight for control, sometimes feeling it slip and almost losing her. It required every ounce of his energy to keep her on her horse. His deception was gone, he was visible to the world. He made her answer challenges thrown at them, declaring him a present to their Queen, one she had long sought, and that he was to be delivered to her right away. A couple of times he had to nudge them along and that’s when she almost broke free of his control completely.
Mentally fighting for every foot, he made her ride next to him as they headed south through the skirmish lines and back towards the gates he had recently passed through. He had retrieved his horse and side by side they approached the gate. His nose was gushing by this point and he felt his control waver.
Somehow, he’d still managed to distract the guards and get them to admit them through gate; to forget they’d ever been there. Free of the horde army and on the plains south of Alamar, he forced them to ride as far and fast as they could, hoping to put some distance from the horde army before trying to reason with her further.
The first night had been the worse. He had tried to share images of their lives together. Of them huddling in the barn, traveling with the merchant, and that terrible night they had been separated. He shared with her his life since, growing up amongst the dwarves, his determination to find her, but she ignored it like it was some trick; some ploy of an enemy magician trying to break her.
Time and time again, he had to command her body to sleep and not to wake until he told her to—another ability he hadn’t known he had until trying it that first night. When he had his energy back, he would go back at it again, always while moving south and away from the grip of evil that still clutched her heart.
It had been a long trip south. Exhausted, he brought her to the sight of that late-night ambush and forced her to relive it again. He made her see that he had been spared, that he had lived. He reinforced who he was and finally felt something give. The little girl that had been broken, hidden within, was finally rising to the surface. He embraced that image and held her close.
Though the evil mask she wore continued to fight, the twin sister he loved was slowly starting to emerge. He got her to quit resisting, to cease trying to escape, waiting patiently to see if it was just an act so she could break loose later and run away.
That moment never came.
Slowly she came back to herself and three months after the harrowing rescue, physically embraced him as her brother. Her mind opened up to him and their consciousness’s were linked as they had been in their childhood. Melding together, they relived their lives once more. He was more detached, having seen the horrors inflicted upon her, and handled the sharing easier than he had on that first attempt. Fully together as they were meant to be, they left the nightmares of their past and rode east to explore their new future.
Then he had touched on the mind of the magician Merlin, and they were thrown right back into the frying pan like they’d never left. They hadn’t had any time to relax, to enjoy each other’s company, before meeting up with the mage and coming to Lancaster. He would’ve liked to travel with her for a bit, to allow them to rediscover each other, take some time to enjoy their reunion and the new lives before them, but it was not to be.
He sighed.
Reaching out with his mind he tried to locate his sister. He had to be drawing close to the lake and felt recovered enough to use his powers once more.
He saw only darkness and fire.
Panicked, he kicked his horse’s flanks and used the creature’s eyes to lead him forward. The sky was darkened with the bodies of birds and to his horror he realized they were attacking something on the ground ahead.
“Reyna!” he screamed, but it was lost in the chaos issuing above.
He brought his horse to a halt and sat straight in his saddle, then took a deep breath and relaxed his panicked mind. When he was ready, he accessed his powers and reached out, feeling for the minds of the crows circling the skies. Horrified, he realized there was a shared consciousness, one mind controlling these creature’s actions; the hate and fury behind it staggering to behold. There was a tug on his thoughts and he realized that he’d exposed himself to this awesome force above. He instantly shielded his mind, threw up every wall he could, and made himself invisible to the alien mind’s pursuit.
Then he waited.
When he was satisfied that he had sufficiently hidden himself, he reached out to the others and began the process of shielding them as well. His sister felt his presence, relenting instantly to what he was doin
g, but the other three minds fought back and a wave of nausea hit once more.
“Knock it off you feral bitch, he’s trying to help! Do you want to die?” he heard his sister yell at the nearby ranger.
After a few more exchanges, the other mind yielded, and he dove into its ferocious depths. With Reyna and Kylee protected, he used the elf’s bond with her wolf to ward him as well. That just left Kore. Surprisingly, the orc had a strong mental barrier and it took him longer than expected to declare himself friend; to get the behemoth to let him in.
The crows instantly lifted into the sky. Projecting an image of their prey as torn and bloodied corpses, he convinced the murder of crows that their work was done. The evil spirit that drove them searched for any sign of deception, somehow sensing that something wasn’t right, but he remained firm and kept the image clear. In a burst, the crows spread apart, released from their bindings, and flew in a multitude of directions away from their position.
He maintained the shielding until he was confident that they were safe, then he released it with a outrush of breath and slumped forward in his saddle, nearly blacking out. He heard voices, but he was too exhausted to make out what they were saying. His horse began to move, and he blindly let it take him where it will. After a few minutes, hands pawed at him and pulled him to the ground.
Weakly, he lay cradled in someone’s arms and felt the familiar consciousness of his sister embracing him. “What the hell do you think you were doing?” she reprimanded.
“What I always do,” he croaked back. “Saving your ass.”
“You’re literally a bloody idiot. Were you trying to do their work for them by killing yourself?” she snapped back.
He could hear the sarcasm, but also felt the warmth buried beneath. He moaned as the pounding headache tripled in strength. “Still alive,” he managed, but only barely. He was losing it.
“Barely,” Reyna rebuked, as if hearing his thoughts.
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 13