Stardust Destinies I Variate Facing by Celinka Serre - HTML preview

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‘Why, he’s the rider who led you to me,’ answered Drúgan.

‘All this time we thought he was the enemy,’ said Boreth.

‘No,’ said Drúgan. ‘He seems scary at first, what with his armour and hidden face, and he does not speak, but when the time is ripe, he brings those who are worthy of my hospitality to me. We reached a mutual understanding long ago, where he would keep watch for those destined to meet me and bring them to me, instead of roaming the land, haunting travellers and farmers.’

Clahria took up the story. ‘He is an upstanding spirit who took an oath to help those in need. He cast a spell on himself before he died—the lingering spell. He’s been doing it for . . . centuries, I think. He never told us his full story, or who he was when he lived, just that he was a knight with enough knowledge of magic to be able to linger on in this world to help anyone he could. He will do it until peace has been restored. That is his pledge. Then and only then can he be set free, by the one powerful enough to destroy the evil of Mirauk.’

‘And strangely enough,’ added Tlúnëe, ‘he is a tangible ghost; we can touch him, shake his hand, and he’s not even a bit transparent. But he can vanish and do all of the other supernatural actions, like any other ghost. Weapons do not make him bleed, though they don’t go right through him as they do with a normal ghost. This is probably due to the lingering spell he cast upon himself.’ Tlúnëe frowned in thought. ‘I’ve wondered if he’s still partly alive. All he’s ever shared of the spell is that it took years for the process of transformation to be completed and during that time, he couldn’t touch anyone or they’d transform as well. Whether he’s still half alive or not, he is a polken ghost of many mysteries, and one whom we hold in great esteem, for his deeds and his help throughout the years.’

‘Now I understand,’ said Meysah.

‘Hey,’ said Drúgan, ‘how about, after supper, Clahria plays us another song on the harp.’

‘I’d love to hear another one,’ said Boreth. ‘Her sweet, melodious talent should be heard at all times and by all.’

‘I would love to play,’ said Clahria, ‘especially for special guests like you, about to embark on a journey to a distant land. I know just the song.’

‘They have not been singing in Teloria,’ said Drúgan. ‘So now, when they hear a song, it’s like hearing one for the very first time.’

‘Then I shall play until they go,’ she said.

The meal ended in silence and afterwards they all returned to their seats by the fireplace, except for Clahria, who went into her room to play.

‘Why does she play in there?’ asked Jimmy.

‘Because she feels more at ease,’ answered Drúgan. ‘She is self-conscious playing in front of an audience.’

Her voice was even more beautiful than before, if that were possible, as she sang their song, written by a prophet long ago:

 

One day there will be

A very angry, evil man,

Who will awaken in his descendants

Sorcery—you will see.

 

But when they try to steal

What should belong to no one,

They will be waking in others

The good—you will feel.

 

A great user of magic

Will set out to save the day,

With the help of a small army,

A few knights—so heroic.

 

So on they will go

To boundless lands,

And learn more than there is to learn,

And stand up to every foe.

 

There she stopped, for the rest revealed the future, and the guests shouldn’t know that until they figured it out for themselves. She began another song, soft and conclusive, this time playing her flute.

Drúgan yawned in satisfaction. ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Now, I’m off to bed.’

Tlúnëe joined him as he climbed the stairs to the bedrooms. Vigh followed, then Jimmy and Meysah and Niome. Boreth stopped at the foot of the stairs when he heard Clahria change instruments and start to sing the next song. This time, he felt she was singing to him alone. Boreth turned back and went into her room.

‘Hu-hullo,’ he said quietly. She smiled. ‘Are all the other bedrooms upstairs?’

‘No, mine is here, and Tlúnëe’s is next door. He just went up with my grandfather to make sure everyone is at their ease.’

‘Ah, yes.’

There was a pause.

‘I started composing your song,’ said Clahria. ‘There’s only one verse so far, but I’m sure it’ll be done by the time you get back.’

‘That’s if I get back,’ said Boreth.

‘Right, if.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t make any promises, although I’d very much like to. I’m sorry,’ said Boreth.

‘Oh, that’s okay,’ Clahria said, though her eyes revealed sadness. ‘At least there’s a bit more hope with you than there was with the last group of travellers.’

Boreth quirked a curious brow. ‘The last travellers?’ he repeated, wondering if Bahvley’s team had passed by and stayed here as well.

She nodded. ‘It was a while back. The one thing I can remember clearly is that they never made it back.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Boreth, suddenly worried for his and his fellow travellers’ chances.

‘No, I’m sorry. I know that the travellers were friends of yours. Bahvley Fairhaven was among them. He was brother to Niome and Meysah, was he not?’ Boreth nodded. ‘I didn’t know much about him then, but now I understand more about all this. They were the last travellers to come here, until now.’

‘I’m afraid no one has dared to travel yonder until now,’ said Boreth.

‘When they came and announced that Morkans had attacked Teloria and stolen the Book of Enchantment, we came to their aid. They went after the messenger who had it, but only news that Mirauk himself had killed them all came back our way. Elina was the only survivor.’

Boreth nodded. ‘Bahvley was a good knight. I’d been taken captive by the Morkans and carried away. Bahvley freed me and others. The Morkan camp was close to Teloria, so I came back home in time to help. If it weren’t for him . . . well, he was a good knight.’

‘And a brave soul,’ said Clahria. ‘I see that same brave spirit in all the Fairhavens. Elina travelled a long way with them, only to hear and report such ill news, returning only to her own doom. She travelled back alone, but still to her death; perhaps slow, but still a death.’ Boreth put his hand on her shoulder and nodded in sympathetic understanding. ‘She confronted Mirauk, you know, and she laid her doom upon herself.’

‘How can you say such a thing?’ objected Boreth. ‘You don’t know what went on!’

‘No, I don’t, but I do know this: it has always been said that Mirauk’s evil is so great that if he looks you in the eyes, you are cursed with a slow, painful, and deadly sickness. No one has looked him in the eyes and lived to tell the story. Of course, there were those few who’d barely made it back in time to say it, or stories of those who attempted it, but we either never hear of them again, or hear how they died—never well. Elina knew all this. She was the lucky one who survived the longest and resisted as long as she had the power to fight it off. Perhaps she did this willingly; perhaps she knew certain things that we cannot begin to comprehend at this point in time.’

‘Perhaps. I did not know all this about her,’ Boreth said, his voice faint. ‘Or maybe I knew, but just never realised it. I trust Elina knew what she was doing, and accepted her fate.’

Clahria rose and walked to the window. ‘My grandfather revealed that she had died to my brother and me when you were washing up,’ she said. ‘He didn’t want you all to see our reactions; he wanted you to enjoy your stay fully.’ She turned to face him. ‘Promise me that, if ever you come face to face with Mirauk, you will not look him in the eyes, that you will turn your gaze away, all of you.’

Boreth went to her and gently cupped her cheeks in his hands. ‘I promise,’ he said, and he kissed her on the lips, then held her in his arms. They stayed like that until they heard Tlúnëe come down the stairs. Then Boreth stepped back, said good night, and went upstairs to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Niome and the others packed up before coming down to a breakfast of pancakes. But when it came time to leave, and Tlúnëe stepped out to the stable to get the horses ready, they all became morose. Dread had replaced any excitement about finding the Great Rock, for they were going to Mork to face Mirauk.

‘It will take you half a day to reach the Great Rock,’ said Drúgan. ‘Crossing to the other side of the river after that will not take long.’

‘What potions shall we find at the Great Rock?’ asked Jimmy.

‘You mean what potion,’ corrected Drúgan. ‘It is the ultimate healing potion. You must use it only once, and only at the most critical moment. It is meant for healing if one of you is dying, or has just died. I give it to you because each of you is important to this mission. There is one dose, to be taken or administered while reciting this spell.’ He pulled a folded piece of paper from a pocket and handed it to Niome, and she began to unfold it, but he put his hand over hers to stop her. ‘None of you may read it before the time of use,’ Drúgan warned. ‘Not even to yourselves. And remember this: it will only work if the person wishes to live and if the wound was not inflicted by Mirauk himself. Do not force the spell, or it will be in vain.’

Niome put the spell in her pouch.

‘Remember,’ said Clahria, ‘do not look into Mirauk’s eyes, for if you do, you will be cursed with the same illness that took Elina from this world.’

‘We won’t,’ Niome said, the assertion echoed by Vigh and Meysah.

‘When we come back, I will expect a song,’ Boreth teased, smiling.

‘A song shall be written,’ Clahria replied.

‘And perhaps I shall write a song about you,’ said Boreth.

Jimmy and Meysah shared a look and sighed. Then Meysah put his hand on Jimmy’s back. ‘One day,’ he whispered as Boreth and Clahria embraced. ‘One day.’

‘Yep,’ said Jimmy. ‘When we’re ready for love, it will come to us.’

Tlúnëe came back in while they were all exchanging good wishes. ‘The horses are ready,’ he said.

They went out to the yard where their three horses waited, along with three from Drúgan’s stable—two for Niome and Jimmy and another for Tlúnëe. The snow had melted. ‘We appreciate your loan of the horses,’ said Vigh, ‘especially knowing there is no stable to house them, where we are going.’

‘Not to worry,’ said Drúgan. ‘They will be cared for.’

‘How are you going to bring them all back?’ asked Meysah. Vigh had told him that Drúgan would be caring for the horses while they were gone; the only way he could do that was if the horses were returned to the old man.

Tlúnëe answered. ‘I’ve made them familiar with the stable and I will summon them for safekeeping.’

‘Well, it looks like it’s the last time I ride Greyer,’ said Meysah, rubbing the horse’s nose. ‘The last time for a long time.’

They mounted up and followed Tlúnëe, as Drúgan and Clahria stood in the doorway of the Old Grey House, waving goodbye.

* * *

They reached the Great Rock by mid-afternoon. It was exactly as it had been described: an immense boulder streaked with pink and grey, as if stroked with a brush. They all sat on their horses, silently listening to the wind, before Tlúnëe said in a low voice, ‘Follow me.’

They dismounted. Tlúnëe led them to one side of the boulder and lifted his arms, uttering lines known only to his family—not even Niome could recognise the pattern.

 

Nelassima po srodo folessekold!

Nelassima po srodo dlogesseh!

Etel Notissimopo folerëop,

Etel Notissimopo foëlessifëi!

 

The outline of a door appeared in the grey surface of the rock. The narrow gaps widened as the door opened. They entered, pulling their horses in with them, and the door shut behind them.

As if they’d been expected, burning candles illuminated the interior—their kindling no doubt part of the spell Tlúnëe had uttered. Shelves lined the rough-hewn walls, and on them sat a myriad of stoppered bottles and leather bags tied with string, all containing magical potions, Niome knew. The room was larger than the exterior of the Great Rock had implied.

Tlúnëe walked to a shelf to the right of the door and lifted a small glass bottle containing a reddish peach-coloured liquid. ‘This is the potion,’ he said, handing it to Niome. ‘Keep it safe at all times. Don’t lose it. When you use it, drink it all at once.’

Niome studied the bottle carefully. She clasped it in the palm of her hand, then put it in her pouch.

‘Wouldn’t it be wise to have more than just one bottle?’ said Vigh.

‘Yeah,’ said Jimmy. ‘What if more than one person needs it?’

Tlúnëe put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. ‘You will need it only once. You must learn to trust those few who can foresee events, Jimmy. It will be kept safe with Niome,’ Tlúnëe said, suddenly appearing wiser and older than his years. Great knowledge mingled with the beauty of youth to produce an expression so pure, Jimmy could not describe it.

Niome gasped as a warm light filled the room. Now she understood: Tlúnëe was the seer who would become the Prince of Time that Henker had predicted would replace him.

‘Come,’ Tlúnëe said, ‘the dock is not far.’ He led them out of the Great Rock and the door sealed itself and vanished behind them.

They remounted their horses and rode a few furlongs before Tlúnëe reined in beside a dock where a rowboat was moored. ‘This boat will take you to the other side, but it will not wait for your return,’ he warned.

Meysah approached it and it jostled, splashing water against the dock. ‘This is a magic boat, isn’t it?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ answered Tlúnëe. ‘It will carry you where you need to go. You need no oars. Once you get there, be careful.’

‘We will,’ said Vigh.

‘Do you have weapons?’ asked Tlúnëe. ‘Powerful weapons?’

‘We have our swords,’ said Vigh, ‘and we’ve got knives—ours and those we took from the Morkan riders we fought.’

‘And we have our magic,’ Niome said, understanding that Tlúnëe was not referring to tangible weapons.

‘Then you are all set,’ said Tlúnëe.

The group dismounted and Boreth untied the boat from the dock and held it while Jimmy got in. Vigh thanked Tlúnëe, then clambered into the boat as well.

Meysah paused before leaving Greyer. ‘Well, I suppose this is farewell,’ he said to the horse. ‘Not for too long, I hope. I shall miss you, Greyer.’ The horse snorted and stomped. Meysah rubbed the horse’s nose. ‘These people are our friends. They will take good care of you. Do obey them, Greyer.’ He hugged his horse. ‘I hope I shall see you again.’

‘You will,’ said Niome, who was standing behind him.

Brother and sister got onto the boat. Boreth followed.

Before the boat left the dock, Tlúnëe called, ‘Niome Fairhaven, find the Book of Enchantment! Meysah Fairhaven, find your courage. Vigh Nimrod, find your friend. Jimmesh Hochka, find your inner strength and valour. Boreth Culmik, find your peace of heart.’

‘And you,’ said Vigh, ‘find your wisdom!’

Tlúnëe just smiled. Turning his horse, Tlúnëe trotted off, the other horses following. He stopped at the top of a low rise and turned to look at them as the boat slowly moved out into the river. He saluted them and they saluted back. Then he rode off through the meadow, the other horses at his side.

Niome contemplated what Tlúnëe had just told them. He had wished each of them the very thing that they most desired, she realised: the Book of Enchantment, courage, a lost friend, inner strength, and peace of heart. Perhaps these are things we shall find in time, for he can see the future.

Perhaps Bahvley’s group is still alive, Vigh thought. He suddenly knew that Tlúnëe had already found the wisdom Vigh had wished for him, for only a wise person can look into the soul of another and see their innermost desire. Vigh smiled to himself.
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five:

Bob Tweedle

 

The light was fading in a sky turning purple as the boat floated across the Ortim River to the far side. The five travellers sat silently watching the dark forest on the far side looming larger.

‘Boreth,’ said Jimmy, breaking the silence. Boreth turned to him. ‘Did you really mean it when you said you would take me on as your student knight?’

‘I did,’ Boreth replied.

Jimmy nodded, eyes downcast, as if thinking about the response. ‘Because no one ever offered before. I guess they all thought I was a lost cause.’

‘I don’t think so. I can see your determination. You just need to learn patience with yourself.’ Boreth smiled. ‘You have shown great courage already and proven yourself as worthy as the rest of us by coming along and by fighting those riders as best you could.’

‘You saw that!’ Jimmy beamed. Then he sobered. ‘I mean, my potential. However you put it.’

Boreth laughed. ‘If you have it, someone’s bound to notice it eventually.’

They fell silent again, but it was a comfortable silence. The cool breeze and the water lapping at the boat’s hull soothed their anxiety and refreshed them.

But the closer they got, the more restless the passengers became, shifting on their seats as if trying to get comfortable and hunching their shoulders against a nonexistent cold. Niome rolled her shoulders, trying to dispel an eerie, prickling sensation on her skin. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She swallowed, to no avail.

‘No!’ Vigh suddenly cried, hands flying to the gunwales. His usually calm expression was gone, replaced by alarm.

‘No to what?’ asked Boreth, swinging his head around, looking for danger. Then he felt it, and gripped the gunwales in terror.

The boat shook uncontrollably now. Everyone had to hang on.

‘Look there!’ cried Meysah, pointing to a dark figure in the water.

‘The river seems to be inhabited by some sort of beast,’ said Vigh, eyes on the dark shape.

‘A beast that Mirauk set loose?’ asked Niome as the boat lurched again.

The creature slipped beneath the boat. Meysah leaned over the side and saw two glowing red eyes. Then a geyser of water spewed from the beast, creating a wave that nearly swamped the boat. Losing his grip as the boat bopped from side to side, Meysah toppled into the water.

The boat stopped.

‘Meysah!’ shrieked Niome.

‘Why has the boat stopped?’ Jimmy asked, looking frantically at the water around them. ‘We can’t just float here! We have to find Meysah—what if that creature comes back?’

‘It’s waiting for Meysah to come back,’ Niome said in sudden understanding. ‘It won’t go until its missing passenger returns.’

They all started scanning the water, searching for Meysah. ‘I can’t see him anywhere,’ Boreth said.

Jimmy stood up and looked around, then lowered his head in defeat and sat back down. ‘What a start,’ he moaned.

A hand suddenly shot from the water and grabbed Jimmy’s arm. Jimmy screamed and threw himself away from the side to sprawl in the bottom of the boat.

‘It’s Meysah!’ Vigh said, scrambling to grab the hand. Jimmy and Boreth helped him haul Meysah back into the boat. As soon as Meysah landed coughing in the boat, the small vessel started off again.

Niome sat down beside Meysah and covered him with a blanket. ‘What was it?’ she asked.

‘I didn’t see it,’ said Meysah. ‘All I know is I fell in and tried to get back in the boat.’

The boat bumped gently against the riverbank. Those in the boat exchanged nervous glances. No one moved to get out right away. None of them had ever gone this far. Even Vigh and Boreth, who had travelled to many places, had never been this far north.

‘So this is it,’ said Meysah. ‘This is where the real journey begins.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Vigh.

‘We must build a fire for the night,’ said Boreth. ‘It’ll keep us warm and it’ll dry Meysah’s clothes.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Vigh. ‘We should go and gather firewood, but we must stick close together.’ He looked at Meysah. ‘Remain in the boat until we have unloaded our packs and gear. We don’t want it leaving before we have everything.’ Meysah nodded and pulled the blanket more tightly around himself.

Boreth and Vigh stepped out of the boat and Jimmy and Niome passed the packs forward to them. Then Jimmy hopped out and Niome helped Meysah get out.

As soon as they were all on shore, the boat drifted away from the bank and slowly cut across the current to the opposite shore.

Jimmy watched it anxiously. ‘I don’t like that it’s leaving,’ he admitted.

‘We no longer need it,’ Boreth assured him. ‘Come, let’s find a spot to camp for the night. In the morning I will teach you a few fighting tricks.’

The woods were eerily silent as the group walked from the river up to the tree line and set their bags down. Meysah, who had started to shiver, stepped behind a tree and changed his clothes. The dry trousers and shirt weren’t as warm, but he wrapped the blanket around himself again. Vigh draped Meysah’s clothes on a branch near a small fire Boreth was starting.

As the boys set out to gather firewood, Vigh warned them again, ‘Stick close together and don’t wander far. This is a strange forest in a strange country.’

Although it wasn’t completely dark, Niome was tired. She spread her bedroll beside the fire and lay down to sleep.

Vigh sat down beside Boreth, his eyes on Niome. ‘It’s not normal for her to be this tired,’ he whispered.

‘Do you think it’s a curse?’ asked Boreth.

‘No. But she lost a lot of blood when she was wounded, and that spell took a lot of energy. It could be her way of regenerating.’

‘She does have a lot on her mind.’

‘Yes,’ said Vigh. ‘She still grieves for Elina. Now I’m afraid she grieves for her older brother’s death again. She is following in his steps and the people we meet remember him still and she will be reminded of his loss for quite some time, as will Meysah. I fear many past events will haunt her.’

‘We will help her through this,’ said Boreth.

* * *

Meysah and Jimmy were making a game of gathering wood, their laughter dispelling their earlier anxiety. ‘I’m excited in a way, Meysah! Are you?’

‘I don’t know. I’m a little afraid. Lucky for you that Boreth wants to be your master.’

‘Yes,’ answered Jimmy. ‘I feel more confident now.’

‘Hey,’ said Meysah, ‘the last things Tlúnëe said to us got me thinking.’

‘Me too.’

‘I’m a coward!’

‘What?’ exclaimed Jimmy.

‘I need to find courage. I always feel scared. I want to go home, that’s how much I lack courage.’

‘We’re all scared, Meysah. Niome most of all. And you came out here in the first place. No, the only person I know who’s a coward is that boastful liar—’

‘Lóim!’ exclaimed Jimmy and Meysah at the same time. They laughed.

‘Hey, who do you think Vigh’s friend is?’ asked Jimmy.

‘Beats me; you?’

‘Hey, he’s your master,’ Jimmy retorted. ?