Ruin Mist 01 - Keeper Martin's Tale, page 4
I am afraid for you my brother, but I must not say why... Galan had said. Will you promise to return to the chamber afterward?
Seth had said he would.
Seth's thoughts became unfocused for a time. Then just when Seth thought he could wait no more, the doors swung open and the summons came.
He was shocked to see that all the members of the three councils attended and that many others streamed in through the far door. Many eyes were directed at him now and he did not know why.
There was an unusual amount of energy in the air accompanied by a strange silence, which to his prescient mind was like an unwholesome numbing. People fidgeted around in their cushioned seats or floated just above them nervously but voiced no thoughts.
Seth was beckoned to the fore, not by the flow of words or feelings to his wildly spinning mind but by the briefest stroking of his intuitive senses, a presage bundled in the form of a picture and thrust upon his mind, which was done for effect. It was such an overpowering tool that only Queen Mother would have ever resorted to its use, for any other would have provoked open wrath in the recipient and retribution would have been called for. Sure, Queen Mother could have sent simple thoughts of hot—cold and thus directed him, but any child could have done that. She wanted to stun him, and she had.
Head slightly lowered, eyes wide and upturned, Seth lurched to a perplexed halt. Words whisked through his mind as through a dream and he heard only a part of the message.
… I send my chosen protectors to return to the lands of Man as a symbol of my resolve…
Then suddenly an avalanche of voices cascaded into his head as Queen Mother's words spawned a heated debate. Seth could only stare blankly ahead, still half in stupor as he sought to digest the multiple conversations.
Queen Mother lowered her gaze and when their eyes met a smile passed her lips—only in that instant, did Seth realize that none of the others knew what she had done to him. She had in a way stolen the words from his thoughts before he could offer protest. When he finally did come to protest it was already too late, only Seth had the misfortune of not realizing it then. He began his protest.
How can this be so? he demanded, Surely this is some sort of…
"Brother Seth, the decision of the High Council is final as is the word of Queen Mother," the voice that permeated the air of the great hall was Brother Liyan's. It was not often that one of the Brotherhood spoke aloud, but this too was done for effect. Immediate silence followed.
"But I must stay here. Here is where I belong. I have sworn to the Father to protect. Send another. The Red's first duty is to protect Queen Mother."
"No, Brother Seth," the voice again spoken aloud this time was Queen Mother's and now audible gasps crisscrossed the chamber. Queen Mother never spoke aloud. "It was I who offered your services. The Brotherhood shall serve in this undertaking. It was I, who said the Red would be the chosen ones."
What of the Brown? Is this not a duty of the warrior order? Seth was just as purposeful when he responded in thought as when Queen Mother had spoken aloud. It was a small defiance, yes, but it was a defiance far greater than offering his opinion when she had obviously warned him that she wanted to hear little more than silence from him.
The presage had been her warning to him and now Seth had defied her, yet those of the council were not privy to her earlier act. So while gasps audible and inaudible—those of the mind—passed around the chamber again, Queen Mother fixed her open gaze upon him again. Under the weight of her stare he must hold his tongue, or suffer the accompanying wrath.
"Brother Seth, their part will come. It is not now." Queen Mother-again spoke aloud. "Why do you think you have been studying their ways these many past weeks?"
It is our duty, my duty, to stay. I will not go… Seth closed his mind to further thought. He did not wish to listen to any more nonsense. He had sworn with his life's last thread that he would protect Queen Mother for all times. He would not leave her now or ever.
There was a trace of anger in Queen Mother's countenance and the naked rendering of such a strong emotion in the company of the Council and so many others was in itself significant enough to send Seth's knees to trembling. It wasn't that he feared her wrath. Queen Mother held no malice within her—her eyes held only caring and her heart only love. There was greater pain than physical pain and the greatest mental anguish to his kind was shame and dishonor.
Seth? Brother Ry'al of the Blue thrust the word into his mind.
Seth refused to open his thoughts.
Still the stubborn one aren't you. Seth the protector. Can you not see? Surely, you must see it. The time is upon us. All is up to you, chastised Ry'al.
All this from Seth's final refusal to Ry'al's final entreaty occurred between one heartbeat and the next—the speed of pure thought.
If I must use my rank of office on you, I will. It is as it must be; no others could make the journey. What lies ahead is preordained for you , said Brother Liyan, whether you want to believe it or not, you know in your heart it is the truth.
The force of Liyan's thoughts thrust into his mind confounded Seth and nearly sent a wave of anger rushing over him—yet he was able to turn that anger to his advantage. "I see the truth of your words, Brother Liyan of the Grey, Queen's Counsel, greatest of the wise." Seth spoke aloud, the precise phrasing of his words brought a partial smile to Liyan's face.
"I make formal apology to High Council and to Queen Mother, who is the heart and soul of her people and who has wisdom second to no living mortal."
Now Brother Liyan's smile blossomed and broadened—this naked emotion was allowed. Wise words, he sent to Seth alone.
Seth turned to face the Council, waiting for acceptance of the apology.
Council accepts your apology, Brother Seth of the Red…
Relief passed over Seth, though the most important expression of forgiveness had not been passed yet—Queen Mother had not spoken. This never came, though Seth waited for what seemed an eternity in his turbulent thoughts.
Who will accompany me? Seth asked, breaking the silence.
I shall leave the choices up to you. Brother Seth. The voice in his mind was that of Queen Mother. I know it will be a difficult one but I have confidence in you, Brother Seth of the Red, first of that order, Queen's Protector. You are the chosen one.
***
After piling the light wood cleanly on the floor next to the wood stack, Vilmos crossed to his room and changed clothes, heedless of the fixed scowl aimed directly at him. He was tardy, but only barely so. During the tangle with the bear he had lost the rope to tie around the bundle of wood. Instead of running home with a neatly tied bundle over his shoulder, he had had to walk. The walk hadn't bothered him though; his legs had been shaky and unsteady after the encounter.
His eyes wide, Vilmos told his mother of the encounter with the bear and later about his inadvertent use of the forbidden magic. Lillath's face turned white with horror. She swept Vilmos up in her arms.
"You poor, poor dear, frightened to death like that."
Vilmos' father put aside the Great Book and directed angry eyes at him. "Bear or no bear, there is no excuse for magic."
"Yes, father, I know, but the power just comes to me. I can do nothing to stop it."
Despite a mother's pleading eyes, the angry words continued. "No excuses. If you had returned after gathering the wood, you never would've encountered the bear. You must resist the temptation to use the forbidden. It is the work of evil. You will spread it to the land and you will be damned!"
"Now don't be harsh on the child, Vil." Lillath called her husband Vil to keep words directed at father and son separate. "Go ahead, Vilmos, eat, you look beyond starved." The objection finally said, the woman returned to her meal.
Vilmos started to smile, a flicker of hope that was cut short.
"I'm not being harsh. Do you want them to come? Do you want them to take him away?"
Vilmos gritted his teeth; here came the lesson.
"Salamander dweller amidst flames; Sylph light and dainty as air; Elf of forest and water; Gnome under mountain and stone; inhabitants of the four elements no more. All because Queen of Hives took pity on Gnome and so wed King of Gnomes under Solstice Mountain. Unknowingly she brought with her the gift of Elf magic. Elf magic in the hands of Gnome—pure evil.
"Sylph, Salamander, Elf and Gnome, no more. Only the four offspring of King Gnome and Queen Elf survived. Naiad dweller of river and spring. Nereid dweller of sea. Oread dweller under mountain. Elf dweller of forest. In the end, even though they fought the evil of this new magic and directed it toward good ends, all perished save willful Elf who was in the end washed into the sea with her people. This is the lore of the Four Peoples. Go now. Contemplate this lesson and the error of your ways."
Cheerless eyes of a worried mother silently followed Vilmos. He could feel her eyes upon his back. He retreated to the sanctuary of his room where he began a vigilant watch of the ceiling. He supposed that made it look like he was contemplating the error of his ways, but in truth he hated his studies.
A long time passed before his mother entered the room, carrying with her a large tome, the Great Book, and a plate full with breakfast foods: still-warm black bread, honey cakes, country jams, dark yellow cheeses and three varieties of smoked sausages. She sat the plate down and began to read from the Great Book.
Vilmos only half listened.
"After He was cast from our world, those among us, the wise, foretold that someday He would return. If we allow him to escape the darkness through our use of magic, He will survive the endless journey of darkness… Magic draws upon the threads of the whole of the world. Eventually the threads will unravel. A rift will be created. When He has finally regained his powers, He will use this rift…"
Such teachings had been lectured many times before and though they were not lost on him, Vilmos didn't give them much thought. The Dark Lord had perished a millennia ago. How could he return by the simple use of magic? Besides, there seemed a never-ending list of lessons pertaining to the use of magic. It was true that tales of the Dark Lord and Queen Elf were the two that he heard constantly, but he was tired of them all.
"I try hard not to use it, mother, but I slip on occasion."
"The use of the magic is expressly forbidden. Never use it. Do you understand me? Never."
Vilmos appealed to her with his innocent eyes.
"I know but the power just comes to me. It is growing stronger, mother."
A look of shock spread across Lillath's features. She gasped. "You must not use it. Vilmos, promise me."
"I can do nothing to stop it."
Lillath, now appearing older than her years, swept Vilmos up in her arms. She held him for a time in a motherly embrace, and then let him go. She knelt beside him and placed both hands on his cheeks.
"After He was cast from our world those among us, the wise, foretold that someday He would return, but only if we continued to use magic. Magic is evil, Vilmos. This is why you must never use it. Promise me." Her voice had never sounded grimmer.
"I will try, mother."
Overtures of desperation, also a hint of vast knowledge, touched her words now. "Even I could not stop what must be done if you don't do as I ask. Soon, mind you. Do you understand?"
"You wouldn't let them take me away, would you, mother?"
"No, I would never allow the priests to take you away, Vilmos. I promise." Lillath was crying now and on those words she returned to her kitchen.
In his heart Vilmos believed her. She wouldn't let them take him away, yet if they came he knew she would have no choice. They would take him away. He would never see the Kingdom of Sever again.
Vivid images from the nightmare returned to his mind and with them came clouded, troubled thoughts. He did not want to be taken away from his home. He did not want to go away. He did not want to leave his mother. He loved Lillath desperately. She was all he had.
Vilmos closed his eyes then escaped to the place he went when troubled. A deep, majestic valley spread before him. Its view was breathtaking as he stared down into its depths, imagining himself a great, giant eagle lazily circling high above the valley floor. This was his special place, only his, he thought. He was the great winged beast, master of all it surveyed, who could swoop, soar and dive to the valley floor or glide up on a light puff of air.
Alone and free, the great golden eagle flew.
Vilmos had always been different from other children. His powers separated him and he knew and understood this as bitter reality. Other children wouldn't play with him. He was an outcast, and he had been ever since the fateful day he had mistakenly loosed his magic during Three Village Day two summer's ago.
A tear rolled down his cheek. The blue flames were the cause of all his anguish. Two summer's ago he had nearly killed Willig of Olex Village. Over a game of catch-and-seek, the big boy had pinned him down and had beaten him mercilessly—Willig was a poor loser. Vilmos had used his only means of protection and now he was cast out, alone, forsaken by all—except by Lillath who loved him with a mother's devotion.
He didn't care, thought Vilmos, as he soared above the valley. He knew who he was. He was himself and that was all that mattered. Besides, now he didn't have to go to those silly celebrations and he no longer had to take lessons with Willig or Erik, the other counselors' sons, either. His father had hired private tutors to continue his education—a difficult undertaking since there were few in the land that could read or write with much skill.
A mocking grin broke the internal corners of his mind. Temporarily the image of the great eagle and the valley faded. Many tutors had come and gone since that terrible day. Yet his current teacher, Midori, was warm and generous. She did not overtax him with studies like the others. And although Vilmos did like her, he still had tried to frighten her away with his use of magic, as he had those before her. He had even resorted to his most resourceful trick— levitation: the floating of objects. The prank had only brought laughter and was ignored, to his utter dismay and befuddlement.
Devious thoughts clustered in his mind—scaring off another teacher would surely even out the score with his father. The frustration on Vil's face would suffice as repayment for many chastisements—besides, it had taken a long time to find this newest teacher. He would use the blue flames, the blue flames that he had unleashed upon the unsuspecting boy, the blue flames that scorched and decimated, the blue flames that stemmed from his anger. He allowed the thought to settle upon his mind in a fanciful way.
However, the tutor had been so kind to him. It suddenly seemed an injustice to think such thoughts about her. Could he really hurt her? he wondered.
She was unlike any other teacher he had ever had. In fact, he usually enjoyed her visits very much. With effort, the thoughts slipped away before the anger that would sweep him away found him.
The transition back to the valley was made with a single folding of thoughts one on top of the other. The eagle with its stout, generous wings soared above the pristine valley. Floating on a pleasant pocket of air, sinking to the valley floor, scouring for prey, it filled Vilmos with life.
Vilmos did not know that in this form he also breathed life into a creature nearly as old as the valley itself.
***
Brother Liyan closed his eyes and listened to Seth's tale. After the council meeting Brother Seth had wandered the halls aimlessly and caught himself from time to time staring down from above his own thoughts as if he were aloof from them, and during one such time he remembered Brother Galan. She had been waiting for him since early afternoon.
Seth returned to the room they shared then and did a thing he claimed not to understand. Galan was sitting on the edge of her bed, running a comb through her long hair. He sat beside her and the next thing he knew his lips were pressed against hers.
Immediately afterward, Seth fled the room and in his confused state of mind, said he knew of only one person he could turn to. Brother Liyan had been meditating in his private chambers and, without announcement, Seth burst into the room and in one great rush of thoughts explained all that had happened since he left the hall.
Liyan opened his eyes. Brother Seth, you have hardly committed an unforgivable transgression.
Seth sent Liyan tortured thoughts. These ideals of Man corrupt my thinking.
Brother Liyan had been Seth's mentor for only one season now, his appointment at Queen Mother's request. Just now he understood what it must have been like enduring the teachings of the seven orders and after every phase of the training beginning anew like a child and always in training with children. He was suddenly less afraid of the mysterious and powerful Red. It is Mother-Earth herself that corrupts your thinking… Have you never been beyond Kapital or Sanctuary?
I have traveled the canals of the city from end to end with Sailmaster Cagan, and I have traveled the road to Sanctuary. Is there anything beyond that I would care to see?
It seemed that Brother Liyan also understood why Seth had fought so hard in High Hall. Seth was genuinely afraid of venturing into the world and Liyan had perhaps discovered the one thing that could bring true fear to one of the Red. The whole of the world. Brother Seth, the whole of the world. Sights so marvelous you could hardly begin to imagine them all. And never forget that what you call Kapital, the people call Leklorall.
I.iyan sent Seth a mental image, the green of a forest against the backdrop of a white capped mountain, the sky so blue it was almost purple. That is our ancient home. Is it not truly beautiful?
What of my act? Is my mind perverted?
I should think so, said Liyan, quickly adding before Seth could fly into a panic, but I do think it is treatable.
I am being serious and you mock me?
Brother Seth, I will tell you a secret I have never told another. Liyan paused and collected his thoughts. Tears came to his eyes, for now he also understood why Queen Mother had appointed him as Seth's mentor. Just as you fear what you do not know, the unknown in the world, I have always feared the Brothers of the Red. In fact, terror is a better word to describe the emotion—
