“They were,” she whispered. “I failed to convince them that it was safer here for them.”
“The ones you did convince, they accompanied you here?”
“Yes.”
“Then you did not fail. You did what was asked of you. To convince all that you could to come to Lesley for protection. In my eyes, you succeeded.”
She was silent for a moment before stating, “My own mother and brother would not believe me.”
Caedmon was surprised. “I did not know you had family still. Why did they deny your claim?”
Her eyes stared into her memory while her gaze was locked on the wall. “My mother said that a woman had come to Vira, their town. And told them that the light of heaven would save them. The light of heaven would protect them. Their new faith in Him would keep them from harm. She was convinced that this light of heaven would protect and save them. She had no fear of what I spoke of. I could not get through to her.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to cry. She gripped her chest as if it hurt, and she sobbed into her pillow.
Caedmon felt her pain and sympathized with her. He looked away and thought for a moment. Something about what she said stayed with him. The light of heaven.
“A woman came to their town spreading this new faith?” Caedmon questioned.
Through her sobs she answered, “Yes. Several weeks ago.”
“Where did this woman come from?”
“My mother said she was a citizen of Kinwood. She said this woman was on a mission to spread the light to many hearts.” Her cries strengthened. “She heard the woman’s words, and she told me she felt different after hearing about this light of heaven.”
Caedmon had a weird déjà vu moment. He felt he had heard of the light before, but where? He couldn’t peg the memory, and it bothered him. He brushed it off for now; he would revisit the thought later.
“You must know, Ireli, their wish to remain in Vira is not your fault. You did all you could to bring them here, I am sure. Please look to the future and do not dwell on the past. Just because they remained in Vira does not mean they will die there. It is hard to know what will happen; you must have hope. Hope is what you must cling to; believe that you will see them again. Only mourn them when they are truly gone. Otherwise you are mourning for no reason and only hurting yourself,” he said.
She listened to his words but did not fully agree. She was in pain and worried for her family. It would not be so easy for her.
“I will give you time to gather yourself, but know that many people in this city depend on you and on the Ikalreev magic in you for their protection in the coming days. Please, for all those in Lesley, begin to prepare for the war that comes.”
She listened but did not respond.
After a moment, he stood and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood there on the other side of the door and heard her sobs begin again. His heart sank, and he knew it would take her time to mend.
In the meantime, he had much to do. He would help the farmers first and then the greenskins when the king summoned him.
But he remembered that fleeting feeling of forgetting something he had heard before. The light of heaven. He didn’t know where he had heard it but decided he would consult the tome of the Ikalreev Prophecies. Perhaps they would shed some light on his curiosity.
He left her door behind.
Chapter 13
The Unknown
In this land of the unknown, a man can lose himself. A guide must lead him or stray he will.
The Ikalreev Prophecies 22:7–8
Waremasu lifted Faolan off his shoulder and placed him on the ground.
“You found him,” an old man’s voice said from behind Faolan.
Faolan’s rage was gone, but the scars were not, and blood still ran from his freshest wounds. The chaotic bloodred vines and sharp thorns remained etched on his black clothing. He saw that they were in the middle of a forest now. The undergrowth was sparse, the canopy was complete and blocked out the sky above, but the tree trunks were not very dense. He could see a couple of hundred yards into the forest.
His eyes narrowed when he thought he saw movement between the trees, though he could not tell if his mind played tricks on him or if something was watching them. Shadows danced in the distance.
The old man rounded him and emerged into his field of view.
“What was that? You placed him down like he was a child. If I recall, you dropped me the last time,” Zauvek said.
The silent figure shrugged.
Zauvek grumbled, “Anything wrong with him?”
Waremasu nodded and tapped the inside of Faolan’s wrist with his katana. A lightning bolt was triggered and struck a nearby tree.
“That is not good,” Zauvek said.
“Who are you?” Faolan asked.
Zauvek looked at him through his silver locks, unsure of what to say. He believed if he told the truth it would cause a cascade of memories to flood into Faolan’s mind. Anything relating to his angelic ancestry could bring back his memories and his power, which would be the exact opposite of what they wanted at this moment in time. The Ikalreev magic now flowed through him and presented the question of how it would coexist with his angelic power. Mortal magic was corrupting and impure, with a potential to either block his angelic power from returning or twist it into an unholy form.
Zauvek was thinking, choosing his words wisely. “My name is Vek, and this is . . .”
Waremasu motioned to his hat.
“I am Vek, and this is Hat,” Zauvek completed.
“Hat?” Faolan glanced at them in disbelief. “Really?”
“Yes,” Zauvek snapped and straightened up in defense.
“Right.” Faolan looked down. “Then my name is Boot.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Zauvek was frustrated by his sarcasm.
“Of course,” Faolan stated. “Who names their kid Hat?”
“It is a nickname,” Zauvek retorted. “Because he never takes off that stinking hat.”
“Are you calling him stinky now?” Faolan struggled to keep a laugh from rising. “Do you hear this guy?”
Waremasu nodded and crossed his arms at Zauvek.
“What? Oh, come on!” Zauvek shouted. “What is your name then, stinky hat man?”
The silent figure started tapping his foot, showing his unhappiness.
“Oh, I give up! You name us!” Zauvek shouted at Faolan.
“Fine. You are Fresh Corpse Walking, and I will call him Mr. Hat.” Faolan smiled snidely.
“What?” Zauvek protested. “Fresh Corpse Walking?”
“Yeah, look at you. Blood is even dribbling down the corner of your mouth, and you are kind of pale . . . Are you feeling all right?” Faolan asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Zauvek grumbled. “How is his name any different?”
“It’s not,” Faolan stated. “Just wanted to make you mad.”
Waremasu laughed, seven voices echoing from beneath the shroud.
“What is that?” Faolan stepped back and plugged his ears.
The laughter ceased when Waremasu saw that Faolan was in pain from his discordant voices.
Faolan remembered the pain invoked by Waremasu’s voices near the Scar.
“What?” Zauvek tried to ignore the laugh.
“All those voices coming from him,” Faolan said as he instinctively gripped a hilt.
“It is nothing. He is ill,” Zauvek said.
“Right.” Faolan did not believe him. “And you are young.”
The old angel frowned at the jab.
His ally laughed again.
Faolan jumped back and covered his ears.
“Stop! It is not funny!” Zauvek punched his companion in the shoulder.
The cloaked figure stopped laughing.
“He cannot be a human or an elf,” Faolan said. “Are you a wizard? A sorcerer?”
The cone hat swiveled toward Zauvek as Waremasu looked at his ally.
> “Y-yes, exactly. He is a wizard. From far out west, past the desert,” Zauvek said.
Faolan doubted the habitual liar. “I have seen you do tricks before. Flashing in and out of sight. Writing in the air.”
The enshrouded man nodded.
“Can I trust you?” Faolan looked at them both.
Waremasu nodded again.
“Well, I do not.”
The silent figure wrote in orange text in the air with his index finger: I saved you. More than once.
“I know, but you have also harmed me. I have never seen anything like you, and I have only heard of the walking corpse once, from my friend Caedmon, which was a warning of how dangerous he was. Plus, you guys have not been truthful with me.”
“We cannot,” Zauvek said.
“Why?”
“We have our reasons.”
“Then you will not mind if I continue alone.”
The old angel realized the mistake he was making.
“N-no!” Zauvek said. “I-I mean . . . we know the way to the elf lands. That is the way you wish to travel, right?”
“Ye—” Faolan didn’t finish. He jumped back and yelled, “Demon!”
A lightning bolt flew from his hand and struck the ground some distance away.
Waremasu and Zauvek spun, looking for their adversaries. They scanned their surroundings, but they saw nothing. They turned back toward Faolan, and saw a frightened boy rocking back and forth, holding his ears shut.
Faolan was mumbling, “Stay away . . . no more, no more, please.”
A lightning bolt shot out of his hand and struck a tree.
“Get back, demon! Seer, stop this!” he shouted.
“What is wrong with him?” Zauvek turned to his ally.
Waremasu shrugged.
“He was fine a moment ago,” Zauvek said with confusion.
Faolan continued to rock back and forth and scream. In his mind, he saw demons surrounding him, hideous beasts, indescribable monstrosities. They were snarling and laughing at their scared prey. The trees were on fire, and the ground was scorched to ash.
Zauvek kneeled before him. “Faolan!”
The distraught eyes looked at him and recognized his presence.
“What is wrong?”
Terrified, he started shaking his head. “They have come for me. They will not stop tearing my flesh. Their torture is never-ending. What are they? What is this place?”
“Faolan, look around you. What do you see?” Zauvek asked.
“Darkness. Flames. Demons.” Faolan rocked back and forth.
“No, Faolan, you see trees and grass. Leaves hanging above you.” Zauvek led Faolan’s mind as the terrified man looked around, letting the frightened eyes scan their surroundings.
His rocking slowed.
“Mr. Hat stands next to me. Do you see him?” Zauvek questioned.
It took him a moment, but he nodded. “I see him.”
“Good. Slow your mind, Faolan. There is no fire here. There are no demons,” Zauvek said.
Faolan began to see the forest again. The grass sprouted from the ash-covered ground, burying the charred landscape. The fire consuming the trees extinguished. The demons vanished, and leaves covered the sky above him again.
He stopped rocking.
“Are you back in the forest, Faolan?” Zauvek asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Zauvek was relieved.
He did not understand what had happened, questioning the event as he turned to Waremasu and asked, “Was he like this when you found him?”
The silent figure shook his head.
“What was happening when you located him?”
He was fighting, he wrote.
“Demons?” Zauvek asked.
Waremasu nodded. He was escaping from a castle.
“Escaping?” Zauvek said. “How do you know?”
His ally pointed to the deep, bloody and bruised rings around Faolan’s wrists, left by shackles.
“He was their prisoner,” Zauvek said.
The hat tilted forward in a nod.
“All this time?” Zauvek questioned. “Since the seal opened?”
Zauvek bent down next to Faolan and looked into his eyes. “Faolan, how long ago was the First Seal opened?”
Faolan thought hard, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tried to remember.
“U-um . . . I think, four years.” Faolan struggled with the painful memory.
Zauvek hesitated. “Faolan, it has not been four years. It has only been five weeks.”
Faolan searched the old man’s eyes. “Impossible . . . I have seen so many sunsets and so many full moons.”
Zauvek shook his head. “No, Faolan, they were in your mind. Think hard. You were in a dungeon. They must have been filling your mind with false images and experiences. Could you truly see the sun or moon from your dungeon?”
Faolan searched his memories.
“What you saw was purposefully placed in your mind. There are demons who can manipulate a person’s thoughts and a person’s memories. The perception of time can be skewed. What feels to be a decade could really be a day,” Zauvek explained.
Faolan thought about the goat demon. “Seers.”
“Yes.”
“It has only been five weeks? But it feels so much longer, and I have trouble remembering my friends . . . my parents.”
“I know. The way they distort memories and pain can make it feel that way,” Zauvek said, “and if done often enough, the dreams trade places with reality. The seers bring you to their realm and torment you on their ground.”
Faolan nodded.
Zauvek stood up, hoping his words would help Faolan cope with his mental scarring.
“What about the others?” Faolan asked.
“Others?”
“My friends who were with me at the seal.”
“Five weeks ago, they were alive. My companion here saw them.”
“And now?”
“We have not seen them since,” Zauvek said. “We have been searching for you.”
“Why? We do not know each other.”
“My friend was worried,” Zauvek lied. “He has a knack for saving your life.”
Faolan scowled, knowing he wouldn’t get the truth from the old man.
His mind shifted to a thought he had overlooked. Aili is alive!
“Can you take me to Lesley?” Faolan quickly stood up.
Waremasu placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded. He turned and began walking without waiting for Zauvek’s agreement.
Faolan followed close behind.
“I have no say?” Zauvek threw up his hands.
Waremasu shook his head.
Zauvek grumbled and fell in line behind them.
They walked through the forest for hours as night came and then a new day’s sun rose. They emerged out of a tree line on the edge of the forest. The trees gave way to wide-open grasslands.
Very far off in the distance they could see mountains tinted blue by the atmosphere. Now Faolan could tell in what direction they were headed based on the rising sun. It was behind them, so they were heading west. He did not recognize his surroundings, the forest they had just departed, or the mountains before them. They were in a completely foreign land.
Waremasu led the way through the grasslands as the mountains grew nearer. They stopped for a short time to catch some food for Faolan. There was little to hunt in the area, but Waremasu eventually found a couple of rabbits to cook.
Once Faolan had eaten, Zauvek urged them to keep moving. Faolan agreed to move on even though he was exhausted because he wanted to put as much distance as possible between them and the demons he had escaped.
About halfway to the mountain Faolan broke down again. His mind was indeed shattered and at times unable to discern reality from hallucinations. Without Zauvek to guide him back to reality again, Faolan would have remained where he sat, rocking back and forth, until he died of exhaustion or dehydration. When Faolan wa
s pulled out of the hallucinations and his mind was settled again, they kept moving forward.
Night was falling when they finally reached the mountains’ foothills. Waremasu stopped before the climb into the mountains began and pointed to a headstone for Faolan to see. The headstone read:
Herein Lies King Alniton
First King Of The Litanien Volnar Kingdom
Age: 1,753
“How can I read that?” Faolan was stunned. “The language is neither Harmaalinnian nor common tongue, but I can understand it!”
Zauvek punched Waremasu in the shoulder. “Forget about it. It is just the tombstone for a long-lost king of an ancient kingdom. Nothing more.” Zauvek pulled on Faolan’s arm in order to get him moving again.
He followed Zauvek, and they began their ascent into the foothills. These lands were beyond the grasp of elves, dwarves, and humans. He had never heard any mention of the Litanien Volnar Kingdom before and felt like this range had never been seen by the races; it was so far removed from the realms and hidden by the perilous mountains.
Faolan spotted a signpost with more of the ancient writing on it. The signpost read:
Pass of The Forgotten Kings ———>
Litanien Volnar Kingdom
<——— Capital of Vaheav
“Wait! If this is from an ancient civilization, how come it is still here?” Faolan shouted up to Zauvek.
“Magic,” Zauvek shouted back. He did not really care if it was the truth or not.
“Really? What type of magic?” Faolan shouted again.
“I do not know. The ‘do not get old’ magic?” Zauvek said.
“Oh! You could use that!” Faolan laughed.
Zauvek frowned but did not give Faolan the pleasure of seeing his face.
The path was smooth and easy to climb. The sun began to rise as they left the foothills and entered the mountain pass. They passed gravestones for the second, third, and fourth kings. The sun was high overhead as they reached three thousand feet in altitude. At seven thousand feet and as night fell, they passed gravestones belonging to the fifth, sixth, and seventh kings. Faolan noticed each king lived for at least fifteen hundred years and no more than two thousand years.
The First Seal Page 13