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Post Info TOPIC: Chapter 2


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Chapter 2
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               Two things Kayeen could not bear: the cold and the brightness. As he came closer and closer to the southern end of the forest both of these assailed his senses. After collecting his sword and the provisions he had been laying aside, Kayeens first plan was to head out immediately. Nearing the edge of the forest gave him second thoughts when he began dwelling on how much colder it would be outside the protection of the mist. Reluctantly he settled into a small cave even though he knew the delay would cost him his head start.

                Sleep did not come easy and when he found himself still lying in that cave, cold and wet, two hours before dawn, Kayeen gave up. He repacked his sleeping roll, pulled out a strip of dried meat, and continued on. The cold he walked into was worse than the dead of winter. He knew in his mind how bad it would be, but an idea can never compare with the harshness of reality. Not only was it cold, but it was bleak. Kayeen had spent his life in a perpetual fog and was used to shades of grey. He expected the world beyond to be vibrant with the colors his parents reminisced about when they bemoaned their lot. Instead there was the bluish sky of false dawn, the brown and grey of a dead and rocky landscape, and the occasional dirty white of a dusting of snow being pushed along west to east by the harsh wind.

                Kayeen pulled his coat tight against the wind and trudged on. As the sun began to rise it transformed the grey sky into a glorious blue. This far north there was almost never enough moisture in the air to cloud the sky. The relatively flat terrain also does little to impede this view. Few other places on earth can display the majesty and nearness of the heavens, but Kayeen did not see it. All he saw was the bright glare of the sun before him and to the left. He adjusted his hood to block it out and kept his gaze at his feet as he continued southward.

                He was not walking long when he came to the one thing that broke the monotony of the landscape. At first the tree was little more than a speck on the horizon. It wasn't until he got closer that Kayeen began to appreciate its immensity. It was huge. The wind was as strong here as anywhere but it seemed to have virtually no effect on the branches. As Kayeen watched it, this lonely giant seemed to call to him. At the same time it also stirred up fear. No tree should be able to survive a winter up here. Not even grass grows in the prime of summer yet this tree in standing tall and strong and proud.

                Kayeen gripped the hilt of his sword and angled his walk so that the tree passed far to his right. As he began to pass it by the warmth and relief seemed to flow up through him from his hand still gripping the sword. There was a destiny ahead of him. There was a world to conquer.

 

               Gavril was exhausted. He was a messenger, a Ranger. He could and had gone days on end traveling without sleep. He could cover ground as fast as anyone alive, but he had never pushed himself as hard as he had been going these past four days. It had been almost twenty-four hours since he had last stopped even to eat. There was no place to purchase and no time to gather more since he had run out.

                No time for what? Gavril felt a sense of urgency to be somewhere, to stop something, but he did not know what. He had not at first even known where he was going. It was near the end of the second day of traveling almost straight north before he realized where his urgency was calling him. After almost two decades he was returning.

                Gavril pulled his cloak tighter against himself as the wind bit needles into his face and hands. He had left the last scraggly remnants of forest behind a few hours back and the coast was on the wrong side of the prevailing winds to moderate the temperature. The sun rising was doing its work in warming the day but Gavril was moving north into colder environs at such a pace that, for him, the biting cold remained steady.

                Anticipation and questions flashed through his mind. Gavril did his best to remember everything he could from that brief encounter over eighteen years ago. What would Andrei and Yevenna look like now? Twins. Were they boys or girls? They would be young adults now, are they still living with their parents? What would it have been like for them to be raised by such corrupt parents? Most importantly, why after all this time did he feel such an urgency to return? What had happened?

                Such questions and more took on an ever greater urgency as Gavril came closer and closer to that mysterious forest at the northern end of the world. He was so caught up in these thoughts that he at first did not notice the person on the horizon heading in his direction. As Gavril watched him come, he realized that this young man must be one of the twins. The same sixth sense that had been pulling him north now told him that this was the person he had to confront. That Talent that made him such a good Ranger now sent him a clear message: he must go back. Gavril planted his feet, folded his arms and studied the young man coming towards him.

                As soon as Gavril figured Kayeen had come into earshot he cried out, "You must return!"

                Kayeen stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment the two stood there sizing each other up. The only sound was the whistling wind whipping a small stone across the broken ground between them. Kayeen finally began moving forward again and he called out, "Who are you?"

                As he watched Kayeen advance, Gavril said again, "You must return!"

                Kayeen continued walking forward. "Who are you? What are you talking about?"

                They were close enough now that Gavril could clearly see the confusion on the handsome young mans face. Beyond the visible, he could also see the conflict, the struggle, playing out inside this boy.

                "You must return. You are not ready for the path you have set before yourself."

                "I dont know you. What are you talking about?" 

                Metope pointed to the sword and scabbard tucked into a leather belt at Kayeens waist. "You arent ready for that. If you leave home now both it and you will be corrupted and destroyed."                                                                            Kayeen had not expected this as his first ever conversation with someone outside his family. He was still confused, but the audacity of this stranger to order him about caused him to get defensive and angry.

"You dont know me. You have no idea what I can or cannot handle."

                They were now just a few yards apart. Metope put his hand out motioning for Kayeen to stop. "Before you were born, boy, I carried that sword to your parents. I've lived more, gone further, and seen more than almost anyone alive. Everywhere I go I see the same thing: impetuous children who think they're ready to play at being an adult. You're not ready yet to take on the world. Go back home."

                His words were harsher than he had intended. Part of it was a lack of patience from his exhaustion, but Metope could almost feel that something was trying to stir up a confrontation. It got what it wanted. Throughout his rant kayeen was trying to move forward but his feet seemed to be planted to the ground. Hes using magic on me, he thought. In anger Kayeen backhanded the air in front of him. Metope was shocked at the strength of the blow as he was thrown to his left. With his left hand he slowed his descent while he pulled at Kayeens feet with his right. 

                Kayeens head hit the ground hard when his feet were pulled out from under him. His arms flailed as he was then pulled into the air upside down. He reached toward the ground but it was too far away to touch. Instead he reached up towards his feet and the invisible grip that held them.

                Gavril dusted himself off and began walking towards his captive. "Now are you ready to listen?"

                Kayeen did not answer as he continued his futile struggle to free himself. Gavril sighed and went on, "Can you feel it? Can you feel that sword whispering in your mind and playing with your emotions? That sword is dangerous. It wants to master you, but you must learn to rule over it."

                Slowly Kayeen was lowered to the ground. He used his hands to keep from bumping his head again. Gavril continued on as Kayeen was being settled, "In time you might learn to do so but not yet and certainly not on your own. I can return with you. You need your parents to help. You need your brother to help. If you leave now you'll put everyone you meet in danger and will throw away your own destiny."

                Kayeen regained his footing ignoring the hand that was offered him. He stood straight as he faced down the older man. Then he looked beyond him and held up his hand. Gavril was still turning to see it when the rock struck him in the head from behind. Immediately, he crumpled to the ground.

                Kayeen looked down at the bleeding and unconscious man. "I control my destiny. Not you. Not some sword. Not even the Creator Himself. I do."

                He then turned and walked away leaving his victim to the fate of the elements.

 

-     -     -     -     -

 

               When Avril came home in the late afternoon the cave was quiet. Young Sevi was sitting in his father's chair waiting for him. 

               "They're waiting for you."

               "Where?"

               "At the table."

               Avril grunted his thanks and started to walk on. Just as he lowered his head to move on, Sevi spoke again.

               "Avril?"

               Avril stopped to look at his younger brother.

               "Is he really gone?"

               "For now."

               "Are you going too?"

               Avril didn't know how to answer that. He didn't even know for himself what his answer would be.

               "Let's see what mom and dad have to say first.

               Sevi sighed and shook his head. "You're going." He mumbled but Avril didn't hear it. He had already moved further into their home. 

               As he straightened back up, Avril noticed two wooden boxes on the table. In both he recognized his father's craftsmanship. They were functional, well made but unadorned, and the larger of the two was empty. Both boxes had the weathered look that belied the fact they had spent almost two decades hidden in their small cave. 

               It was the slightly smaller, still closed box that grabbed Avril's attention. It pulled to him. It sang to him. "Sang" wasn't quite the right word, but there wasn't a better one. The draw was so strong that Avril was surprised when he finally noticed that both his parents were sitting at the table watching him.

               "Do you hear that?" He asked.

               Both his parents looked confused. 

               "Its... I don't know how to explain it. Something in that box is... its... in my head."

               Andrei arched an eyebrow and muttered, "So that's how he found it."

               Avril turned to his father, "What?

               "You've been following him, haven't you?" 

               When Avril nodded, Andrei continued. "We've been wondering how Kayeen found this. The black must have been in his head just as..."

               "We're getting ahead of ourselves." Yvenna interrupted. She shot her husband a sharp look and when he had the grace to look embarrassed, she continued.

               "Perhaps you should read this first."

               She pointed to a letter on the table that Avril had not previously noticed. Like the boxes, Avril guessed that it was older than he was. He picked up the yellowed paper and began to read:

 

Hello Andrei, 

               I'm guessing I am the last person you would expect to be writing you. I know I never thought I would. I thought we were rid of you and it tears at me that I have to write this. But I have no choice.

               In case you've been holding on to a seed of hope let me end it now. It's dead. You killed it, impossible as that sounds. The Tree wasn't supposed to die. It was the Tree of Life, after all. But somehow you managed it. It took its time in dying, but in the end we weren't able to save it. With its passing went a lot of what we held to be true. Obviously, both life and magic continue in the world. Our need as guardians is gone and the Society has scattered to the wind. Tsyon continues but it is only a shell of its former self. 

               In its last days the Tree dropped two final seeds. There were some that wanted to plant them, but in response to a prophesy, and to prevent another evil to be piled on your, Mykl, myself and a few others stole the seeds and used them as the core of these swords. 

               It was that prophesy which has now brought them for your children. Young Gavril has not heard this prophesy and as you read this, please do not share it with him. You two have already caused enough trouble for our world and this is just its latest manifestation:

 

Two seeds two swords

From one tree. 

And then one more. 

 

Two exiles two children

From one crime. 

And then a third.

 

Two lives two paths

From one rivalry.

And then one more.

 

Two teacers two schools

From one goal.

And then a third.

 

Two battles two flights

Then one death.

And then one more.

And then a third.

 

               Part of me doesn't want to give you these swords. You clearly cannot be trusted but I don't see as I have much of a choice. Like most prophesies this one begs more questions than it answers, but one thing is clear, you and your children are named. I have little hope for the world. If we're right the seeds in these swords are now the only thing holding the world together. And now they are in your hands.

~ Raval

 

               Avril read through the letter. Then he read it again. He nodded towards the box. "So its a sword in there calling to me?"

               Instead of answering, his father opened up the box and pulled out the sword. It was a thin flamberge with a large pearl for its pommel. Coming down from that pommel was a red leather grip wrapped around ivory. A one handed sword, it had a silver hand guard that ended in a serpent's head. The hand guard snaked around the croww guard which was also made of silver and concluded in two dove's heads. The ricasso of this sword was red leather that actually seemed to fade into the white steel blade. The scabard of this blade was a deep red mohogany. The locket was a simple flame made of silver with one thin line that waved down its length and formed into a teardrop at the chape. 

               With a measure of awe and hesitation Avril reached out to take the sword. Even as he was reaching out, the sword literally jumped into his hand. As his hand clasped it Avril arched his back and his parents saw only the whites of his wide open eyes. A moment later he seemed to return to himself and said to his parents:

               "It has begun."



-- Edited by Beejai on Thursday 2nd of February 2012 10:21:10 PM

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