Reunion Prose in Other Worlds | World Anvil

Reunion

This is a story set in the world of Etrea, created by Dr Emily Vair-Turnbull (aka serukis).  

Chapter 1

  "That's enough Joziah. I cannot take this anymore. I won't listen anymore. For three years I have been patient, been supportive. But we have a one year old child now and she is our focus. You know better than anyone that in this world our people are preyed on. Our daughter may die if we do not direct our entire attention to her well-being". For the first time, Shelendra momentarily paused for breathe. Joziah jumped in. "I can hear them Shel. I can hear them all singing so happily. I recognise the song and its calling to me". Joziah closed his eyes listening. It was broken by the voice of his wife.   "That's just a memory. It was a song they all sang to you when you were a baby. It's a wonderful memory, but that's all it is. But your daughter is real, and so am I". Shelendra felt love and pity for him but her voice was harsh. She had to be.   "Shel, I love you and Aly more than my life. You are both my world". He feared to the point of knowing that this would not be accepted by his wife, it had never been so in the countless identical arguments they had repeated over the last two years, as Joziah's problem became more acute.   "That's not enough Jo", at least she was now using his short name. Perhaps, he hoped, she was softening. "I am tired. We are going round in circles and you are not getting better. These delusions are progressively worse. You need help".   "There's nothing wrong with me. How many times must I say it?" It was Joziah's turn to increase the heat into the argument.   "That's not what Evan says!" Back to shouting, Shelendra stared with fierceness in her emerald eyes that would have frozen a ghoul in its tracks, but Joziah was blinded to her by his own relived emotion.   "Evan is a charlatan. He's no more a doctor than I am. Fillian understands more than Evan ever could". A mistake to mention his uncle and he regretted it straightaway.   "Fillian! Fillian this, Fillian that. Your uncle doesn't tell you what you need to hear Jo. He's too much of a mouse to tell you. So let me spell it out one final time. Joziah, your family are twenty-three years dead. No amount of...memories or dreams or visions can change that. Why are you doing this to us?"   "Shel, I'm doing it for you, you and Aly".   "No, you are not. This is about you and your uncle, no-one else. And you can never explain how it's for us. If you want us to stay together, the family you have right now, you must accept that so we can move on". Her voice became quieter and softer as she wearily exhaled her final words.   Joziah's voice followed her lead. He was barely audible in sound but his words resonated in meaning like the hammering of a temple bell.   "I'm sorry Shel. I cannot accept something I know is not true. They are alive, all of them. I know that more clearly now than ever. I must find them. Shel, I'm sorry". His mind felt dark and the thought of his family was the only light, the only hope he had to cling to. He couldn't let it go even though he had wanted to for the sake of his wife and child.   "Then it's done. Goodbye Jo". Shelendra, eyes lowered, turned and walked from the room. As Joziah watched her slender frame head towards the door he could see that she was moving slowly, as if inviting him to stop her. His own voice was screaming in his head to say something to her, to go to her, hold her. But he didn't. He couldn't. He was forcibly stopped from doing so by something he didn't know what, let alone understand. As he thought of reaching out to his beloved, pain seared through him again. A physical pain the origin of which had always been a mystery to him since the first time he experienced it. A pain that had grown throughout his adult life and had now achieved an intensity he could no longer defy. His head pounded to a relentless rhythm. This time, only when he resolved to find his family did it recede and finally relent.   Joziah Kai lowered himself to the floor, tears mixed of physical and emotional pain flowing unhindered down his sharp features into his short, well-kept beard. The fight was lost. He succumbed to the inevitable.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Having overheard their argument, Fillian entered the main living area of the small house, taking in the usual scent of roses so loved by Shelendra. She was at home here but Joziah could never find his place. He had friends, yes, but for some reason he found no true feeling of connectedness in the community. Something always prevented him, and the ties Joziah did have had become too weak to overcome the pull to leave. Fillian saw that now. Shelendra, he thought, this time Joziah will not falter in his conviction to seek his family. He felt an overriding sense of relief at the thought that the real journey had finally begun. He stepped deliberately to Joziah's side and looked down at the blubbering mess at his feet.   "Jo? Come, stand up my boy. More than ever you need to be strong. At last you see there is no option here. You must leave and find them. Shelendra has held you back for too long".   "No. I'm sorry uncle but don't speak of my wife in that way. She has stood by me for longer than any woman could be expected to". Joziah looked into his uncle's eyes. He observed the usual doubt that his uncle felt towards his wife. Fillian had never truly believed Shel's motivation to be sincere. He even believed his uncle suspected her of some form of deceit. But that was irrelevant now, with his mind made up.   "Have you seen her?" Despite the impact of what was happening to his marriage, his question seemed a little detached.   "She'll come round. In time". Fillian was strong in the art of negotiation and could even lie convincingly when required, but he knew Joziah would see through this one.   "No, not this time. Where was she?"   "She had Aly and was headed to Rossia's place by the looks of things. She had bags. Of all the Koushan Mai in Kaien, Rossia knows how to avoid trouble with the Authorities. Shelendra and Aly will be safe with her". Fillian tried his best to sound more convincing this time, he was desperate for Joziah to leave here in search of his parents and end this.   "And the Red Hand? You've said they may have us on their list. Can Rossia shield my family from them?"   "If the Red Hand decide to act there is little protection for anyone, including your wife and daughter. But that's no different if you were here with them, you know that. It should not affect your decision. Come on Jo, you need to make this final decision and begin your journey. Only then can you find peace and a future with them".   "I know I must go, and besides the pain is now too much to withstand. The visions still pull me, and to the same place. The image is so seared in my mind that I see it with my open eyes practically all the time. And as you know, sleep brings me scant release". Joziah raised his eyes to the east, staring at his destination as if it were not fifty yards away. An opening that led into the mountain, barely visible through the snow that laced over the range and the surrounding terrain, newly laid and clean. He felt the bitter cold bite his senses. The visions were no longer only visual.   Fillian's eyes flared. He had seen Joziah do this many times although never was he so focused on the place than now. But beyond the general location he never told his uncle where exactly this place was. Never the landmark itself. As ever frustrated with this lack of information, he resisted to ask again, knowing it would be fruitless. And he did not want to do anything that may, in any way, deter Joziah from the course of action he had pressed him to follow.   "So we go in the morning nephew?"   Joziah felt a calmness, his mind less inflicted with pain, conflict, and confusion. In fact, all of a sudden he didn't feel a thing, and he did not know what was worse. "Yes uncle. To the Teeth".   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 2

  His body was virtually numb. He had been chasing them for ages and could not continue much longer, but he kept running. The freezing temperature in the ice caves was taking its toll. Again he heard his mother's cry, now so weak with the imminence of death. She is close, just a little further. He rounded a turn and there she was, running away from him. Mother, STOP please! It's me. You will never stop me. My son will live and make you pay. Kailin Kai looked back and saw Joziah, turned her head away again and found the strength to speed around the next corner.   Having seen her look directly at him a dumbfounded Joziah pushed on. Mother, please! He carried on running and after several more minutes heard cracking sounds followed by a deep rumble. It was coming from just beyond a bend further along the tunnel.   As he rounded the turn, he came face to face with his mother at last. She was leaning against a huge, solid wall of ice, both palms pressed against this dead end, as she looked over her shoulder at him in fear. Her clothes were ripped and her usual flawless hair was knotted and loaded with ice crystals.   Suddenly he saw the rest of his family. His young sister and brother were huddled together in the middle of this roughly circular cave. The not yet four year old Mythra clung to her brother Folen, her tears freezing on her snow-white face before they could find their way to her delicate chin. Her green eyes were so pure and reminded Joziah of Shel, only making the scene harder to bear. Just three years older, Folen could do nothing but hold his sister in fearful silence. Even at their tender age they knew the outcome that was upon them. So young they had been taught of the persecution faced by those of their faith. Thousands of Koushan Mai were murdered before they reached their teens; there was simply no time to allow children to be children. And then Folen gently took his sister's head in his violently shaking hands, placed it against his, and turned both their faces away from this scene as their parents had earlier instructed him to. As best they could, they began to gently recite the words of a song Joziah recognised instantly. Their voices croaked through it until it was barely a whisper.   And there stood his father, tall and strong, protectively in front of his children. No tears, but his firm jaw was clenched, its muscles forming valleys and peaks not unlike the surrounding terrain they had earlier crossed on the last leg of their journey, before reaching the base of The Teeth. At his side he carried a small but razor sharp sword, a light weapon only, clearly intended for use as a last resort should their flight not succeed.   Father, I love you. Please explain to me what is going on. But those words were not what Joziah heard leave his mouth.   Jandar, resigned to his next unthinkable action, spat out the last words he would ever utter. Your hand will not violate the beauty of my children Caillan. With that he swiftly spun round, his sword a blur as he expertly cleaved the heads of both his most beloved children in one sweep. They died instantly. No pain. No more suffering.   With Joziah standing in utter shock, Jander turned back to face him, knowingly at the end now with tears unstoppable pouring through those valleys with the force of rivers.   With his attention on the horror he had just witnessed, Joziah only caught sight of his mother at the last moment as she near silently pounced, thrusting a dagger towards his neck. Reflexively he blocked her with his curved, shining katana. With movement he had never learned, he struck back.   ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Joziah snapped out of his unconsciousness with a piercing scream. Tears fell from his reddened face, tears not unlike those he had just seen on his father's hard lined face. The faces of his brother and sister haunted him. "Joziah!" Fillian ran into the bedchamber in a panic. "What in the blood-lands just happened?"   "The vision uncle. The strongest ever. I finally reached them. But I ki..." Joziah's voice trembled off to the imperceptible as his torrent of tears physically prevented him from speaking any further.   "Ease yourself nephew. Be calm. Remember what I taught you". Fillian walked to Joziah's side, took both his hands and pushed them together as if in prayer. "Breathe. Focus solely on your breath. Slowly, slowly now". He looked intently at Joziah as he softly gave instructions that gradually brought Joziah to a more peaceful state, at least one where he could breathe without choking and his body was more relaxed.   "Now, and slowly, tell me what you saw and heard". Satisfied that Joziah was in a good enough frame of mind, Fillian pressed on with the technique he had used after many of Joziah's dreams or visions; attempting to place him into a mental state where he could recapture the images.   Joziah began to relate the occurrence to his uncle. But at the moment of the death of his siblings he could not carry on to relay those final few moments. He thought of his parents. What happened to them? Frustrated but understanding, Fillian bade Joziah return to sleep so he was ready for their long journey at dawn.   With final help from his uncle's calming touch and soothing words, Joziah floated away, not to awaken until dawn and with no further visions penetrating his mind.   For a good while Fillian sat on the edge of the old wooden and straw stuffed bed to make sure that Joziah was comfortable and breathing easily. There was a new moon again last night, Fillian thought. His visions continue to match the cycle. He then quietly slipped away to think on what he had been told.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 3

  Dawn broke and Joziah awoke feeling more relaxed and refreshed than he thought he would, given the experience of the previous night. He was grateful his uncle had stayed at his house; he needed his help more than anything right now. He washed and dressed for the journey ahead. They had packed supplies the evening before so there was not much left for it but to eat a quick breakfast and step from the house whilst the light was still low. They had agreed not to leave in the night, as if seen that could have caught suspicion from those that were the enemies of the Koushan Mai, and there were many of them, even in the country of Kaien. A dawn departure would look much more like an outing for the two men as they had often taken together over many years. The Red Hand's reach was only marginally hindered by national borders. Their organisation was simply less overt in those countries that so far, at least, had not passed laws forbidding Koushan Mai worship. And wherever they chose to act, the brutality was the same, and was not distinctive between male and female or adult and child. Following last night's vision he was now concerned that the fate of his family may, after all, be an example of that. Perhaps Shel is right he considered.   No sign of Shel.   He needed her too; he ached for her touch and words. And the loss of his daughter's sweet face and smile felt as harsh to him as the effects of his latest nightmarish vision. He yearned to go to Rossia's and speak to his wife, but as well as the low chance of succeeding in a reconciliation when the subject was still so raw, he also knew that this would only increase any danger for them. The emotion from witnessing the nature of his possible sister's and brother's deaths seared across his mind again like the sword that took their heads. He could not risk the life of his child. After supreme effort he suppressed the thought as much as he could, but he knew he must explore the vision for some meaning; one which had taken him closer than ever to the events of twenty-three years ago.   His previous visions had always involved witnessing, from a distance, the flight of his family from their home in southern Caillah to the ice caves concealed beneath the mountain range known as The Teeth. In later visions he entered the caves in pursuit of his mother. He had progressively got closer to her, but ultimately she had always slipped away. That is until last night. Evan had explained that dreaming of his mother was a sign that he felt a lack of control over his life and he needed to focus on integrating more with his community. He was well liked but he needed to make more effort. Whilst Joziah felt that lack of control, he believed there was far more to it than that. And besides he knew the difference between a dream and a vision.   His uncle had explained that Jandar, his father, was known as Koushan Mai and pushed for their rights to be re-established and honoured. He knew the dangers but he considered the cause too great to be swallowed up by the risks that he and his family faced. But he had pushed too far. Openly humiliating a member of the Caillan nobility, even if a minor one, in a fit of frustration-cum-anger sealed his and his family's fate. They became open targets with no fear of any action against their assassins. There was no choice but to leave. The inevitable alternative was torture and death.   Fillian did not know how, but they had a refuge available to them in the country of Kaien in the town of Kalithe, where Joziah had lived his entire life since. With the help of others they managed to secretly leave their home town of Shanveu. Unfortunately not all their friends were beyond the intimidation of Red Hand agents and once informed of the Kai family's departure, the hunt began. They only had a deficit of four days to make up.   The mountains that formed the border between Serukis and Kaien in this southern region were not passable at this stage of winter. But Jander and Kailin knew of a secret way, a series of linked ice caves at the southern end of the range known only to some Koushan Mai. The same caves now vivid in the mind of Joziah.   There was one thing that Fillian could not explain to Joziah about the journey of his family. Why was he not with them? His uncle could only tell him that Jandar pleaded with him to take the baby Joziah along a different, longer route. With help and no small amount of good fortune, Fillian succeeded in his task only to later find out about the apparent deaths of all the other family members. Fillian himself had sacrificed his own marriage to fulfil the wish of his brother. A sacrifice that Joziah would never forget.   Although Joziah had now finally resolved to take this journey and search for his family, he still felt little control over his situation. He was simply moving through it like an actor in a play, his lines written by someone else.  He had always believed that his mother was communicating with him, building up images and the journeys route, like a map gradually inked directly onto his mind's eye. But last night's vision had him doubting that and it now felt much more like manipulation than guidance. It frightened him.   Finally ready, the two men gathered their packs and set out. As the key clicked in the lock, Joziah heard the closure on his past life.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   The night had been cold and uncomfortable for the heavily grey-cloaked figure now squatting down in amongst the flower beds. It was expected that a vigil would be required throughout the whole night, but that did not provide any additional protection against the bitingly cold air. But now just as dawn was approaching the quarry emerged. Two men dressed and equipped for a long trek, quietly padded along the dirt track now full of ruts from countless years of wagons entering and leaving the old market town. To the untrained eye they looked normal enough, two men embarking on a fishing trip perhaps to grab a few days away from the rigours of their lives, and the attentions of their loved ones. But to the trained eye they were trying just that bit too hard to look natural.   As they passed the garden concealing the cloaked figure one of the men cocked his head towards it and breathed more deeply through his nose. Am I discovered? Muscles tensed for unexpected action, the figure watched closely for the first signs.   "What is it Jo?" The older man whispered slowing his pace ever so slightly; a look of concern on his face had it been visible.   Whispering back, the younger of the two replied. "It's nothing uncle. The air is so clear tonight and I like this way out of town. It's nothing, honestly". Despite the poor light, it was enough to glint off the beginnings of a tear in the young man's eye. The two men carried on without losing more than a step.   As muscles relaxed again a resultant cramp shot through the hiding figure's legs born from the long night in the cold. Relieved however, they allowed a long slow sigh to exhale. Upon meeting the still cold air, the expended breath slowed and came together to turn more liquid. The unfortunate effect was a white cloud, but luckily the two men had moved on and could not see it.   Now sure of not being seen or heard, the figure stood and began to walk from the town garden that was planted some five years ago, a community activity that they had taken part in. Stepping through the final line of planting, a subconsciously guided hand gently caressed a blood red bloom that matched the trim of their cloak. The winter rose sprang back from the touch, spraying its distinctive scent more deeply into the cold air.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 4

  Fillian estimated the journey would take twenty five to thirty days to cover the nine hundred kilometers to the southern part of The Teeth. Joziah had provided detail on the route and destination but still withheld the final pieces in relation to the location of the entrance itself. Fillian had no choice but to accept this. Once dug in, there was no prising anything further from the young man. He has the stubbornness of someone three times his age he thought to himself. Winters chill was coming on strong now, making the journey more protracted. Fortunately, Fillian was well connected in these parts and they were able to hitch rides from traders for the first part of their journey through the smaller villages. They knew, however, they could not continue like that; at some point they would need to leave the roads and opt for the wilderness for safety.   As they entered the wilds the going became more difficult and their progress slowed. On most nights, Fillian would scout ahead to check for any signs of danger, whilst Joziah rested in camp. Joziah accepted this as he knew that if the Authorities or worse, the Red Hand, were indeed on their trail, they would most likely set up an ambush ahead of their quarry. Even with superior forces, the Red Hand preferred this tactic to stack the odds as much in their own favour as possible.   Fillian was proving to be very adept in the wilds. As well as scouting, he was adept at shooting the little game that popped its head out during this season. Occasionally, he would also loop back on their tracks to check that they were not being followed. He had discovered no evidence of this at all so far.   Joziah would look closely at his uncle as they ate, thinking how much it was like that journey twenty-three years ago when he bore him to safety. And all the time Fillian would have been thinking of the wife he left behind, much as Joziah was too. That sort of loyalty and love was rare.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   On the morning of the thirteenth day of their journey Joziah was packing up the camp for the days trek when he noticed a figure crouching on a hillock; he estimated more than a kilometer away. It was a beautifully clear, if very cold, day and his keen eyes could make out a few details. They appeared to be human and relatively small. It was too far away to pick out anything distinctive about their garb apart from the wind catching what he assumed was a large cloak.   "Uncle, come here but slowly, we're being watched".   As best as he could manage Fillian nonchalantly ambled over to Joziah who had turned to face his uncle.   "Over my shoulder at eleven. Smallish, possibly cloaked figure". Joziah waved his arm and hand at some imaginary object in the opposite direction to their observer.   Fillian swept his eyes over a large horizon, pausing only momentarily on the subject of interest. "I can't discern much more. Wait, I...". He stared at the figure for too long, and they disappeared below the rise.   "She... they've gone Joziah". Fillian averted Joziah's gaze.   "You said she. What made you say that?" Joziah looked quizzically at Fillian.   "It was just that they were quite small as you said". Fillian didn't sound convincing.   "Uncle, tell me, I can see there's more to it than that. Do you know this person?"   "Joziah, believe me when I say I am being completely objective here; it's truly based on what I think I just saw". Fillian hesitated.   "Please, just tell me".   "I think it was Shelendra". Fillian met Joziah's eyes, ready for the onslaught. But it didn't come.   Joziah just stared back at his uncle looking downcast. "It's alright uncle. I thought it was her to".   "You did?" Fillian was surprised but also relieved.   After a while of travelling further the uncomfortable subject was finally aired, and it was Joziah who broke the silence. "How long have you suspected?"   Sighing, Fillian tentatively responded. "For some time".   "How long?" Joziah was not about to let this go.   "By the time you married. I just never thought she loved you Jo. And the Red Hand will sacrifice anything to achieve their aims. They've infiltrated families before". Fillian knew he had to tread carefully. Even though Joziah suspected something now, he was still understandably wrestling with it. But Fillian could sense that somewhere in Joziah's mind a doubt was growing about his wife.   "Somehow I began to doubt her, and I think that's why I have found it easier to confide in you uncle as my visions became stronger. I noticed that she was increasingly absent over the last couple of years; perhaps I know now what she was doing. But I'm still sure she does love me at some level and having Aly, it's just so confusing. In any case it doesn't make sense!" Joziah struggled to see the logic of his situation.   "As I said, the Hand will do anything." Fillian pressed the point, ready to explain further.   "Yes, I get that uncle but you're missing the point. Why are they so interested in me, I'm not important. I'm Koushan Mai, so just kill me. Why this entire charade, what can they possibly get from it?" Joziah's expression was pure disbelief tinged with sarcasm.   Not quite what Fillian was expecting, but it led him to the crux of the matter. "You are important Jo. In fact, you are more important to the Red Hand than anyone or anything else".   "How, I don't hide my faith, I never will, but surely I've not been active enough to grab their attention in this way? I'm no different to any others".   Fillian knew this was going to be hard for Joziah to believe, but now was the time to try. "You are very different. To them you have knowledge of something the Red Hand covets beyond almost anything". After a short pause to gather himself, Fillian continued with his explanation to the now bewildered Joziah.   "There is rumoured to be an artefact of the Koushan Mai. No-one outside the faith knows what it is and only a handful of those inside do. The Hand believes it to be a powerful weapon that the Koushan Mai is holding back for some future day of judgement, when they will rise from their persecution. No-one knows for sure, of course, but you can imagine that even a remote chance of this being true holds great concern for the Red Hand and others in authority that have been complicit in the cruelty towards those of our faith. It is thought to be guarded by the most high priests and the Red Hand came to believe that your mother may have been one of them. They were watching your family for any signs to confirm this and lead them to the artefact itself". He paused, observing Joziah closely. With no reaction beyond silent confusion, he continued.   "The incident in Shanveu that led to them leaving home, forced the Red Hand to act more quickly. They couldn't afford to lose track of a guardian of the artefact. When she died", Fillian realised the impact of his words on Joziah by the sudden flash in his eyes. "..Yes Joziah I believe your mother died, and when she did, the trail to the artefact went as cold as the caves we now journey to".   "This is unbelievable and you are only telling me now? After all the sessions we had delving into my mind to interpret my visions. Why only now?" Joziah felt anger for the first time towards his uncle.   Fillian continued calmly. "I am sorry nephew but I couldn't tell anyone, least of all you, what I suspected. They thought someone from the faith may contact you given your possible heritage and with them watching it was too dangerous, especially as I thought they were as close to you as they could possibly be".   "I see. And I am grateful for your loyalty and sacrifices; I wish I had better words to express that". Joziah's anger fell away and he was seeing things more clearly now, with the exception of one thing. "And what did you suspect?" He knew it was something to do with his visions but he wanted his uncle to explain. "Tell me everything now".   "I think your visions are a memory from your mother directing you to the artefact, or a clue to where it can be found. I don't know how this is possible. Although your mother was very strong with magic, I had only seen that in her manipulation of the elements, and nothing like this".   "My mother was an elementalist?" Joziah felt shock but one instantly accented with pride. "I thought I knew her from what you told me, but this. Was my father magical too?"   "No, just Kailin. Jandar was as proud of her as you clearly are now. To be more precise, she was an ice elementalist. Being a gentle soul she used it to make the most beautiful creations but my guess is that at the end of their flight she would have turned that power against her attackers. I can only assume that their numbers were too great, and her power had limits."   "Thank you uncle, I understand enough. For now it makes no difference to our current course. We must continue. I want to think on what you've told me".   The intensity of their conversation had almost made them forget the person they had spotted. But the reverse was not true. As they continued their journey, the prone figure carefully lifted their head to observe the scene. Moments later it slid away, satisfied they were clear of the direction the two men were taking.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   After travelling more than two-thirds of the distance to reach The Teeth, that which they most feared happened. Fillian had been off on one of his looping back-tracks for close to an hour when Joziah heard him calling. Instantly he recognised the danger in his uncle's voice. Grabbing his self-customised blade Joziah thrust his left hand into the built-in gauntlet and wrapped the strap around his forearm. It had been made from an old sword that was thrown out by the town guard, he adding the fixed gauntlet for solidity of grip. This doubled nicely as a benefit for use in cold weather with freezing hands. His small wooden shield was strapped to his other arm momentarily afterwards - it would not protect from heavy blades but could make a difference in a more even match. And besides it was all the likes of his class could afford.   There. He saw Fillian appear over a small dip in the landscape. He was red faced and appeared already to be injured, a small trickle of blood persisted from a cut on his forehead. In his right hand the sword he held was smeared with fresh blood.   "Red. Hand." was all Fillian could splutter as his breath billowed out as ascending white clouds.   Joziah immediately ran to his uncle's aid.   As Fillian got close enough he stopped and turned, ready to face the foe that was in pursuit. Fearing the end, Joziah was at least a little relieved when only three grey cloaked attackers appeared from the same dip ahead. Guttural shouts immediately rang out when they saw their prey.   "Mai scum, by the blood lands your own filthy blood will stain the snow today".   "Is this all of them uncle?" Joziah asked hopefully.   Failing to summon the energy to speak, Fillian only managed an affirmative grunt.   Joziah was not wholly untrained in the arts of fighting. His uncle had taught him some skills with blade and hand-to-hand. So although blood pounded inside his head like a drumming band at a Kalithean spring festival, he had the discipline to utilise all he had learned, become centred, and be ready to meet his opponents.   Two of the three broke more towards Joziah. This is for the best. Uncle cannot manage two in his state.   Reluctantly turning his attention away from Fillian, he bluffed as if he was to flee. He could hear the laughs of the two men and thankfully they both pursued him. Judging the closing distance and angle, he suddenly spun to attack the man behind to his right, and to his relief the bluff had paid off with both agents overconfident and unprepared for his move.   The arc of his shield met his targets defensive sword block and pushed it across his body. The shield splintered but held up. Using his momentum, he continued the spin and his sword slash found no defence in its path; the sharp edge found exposed neck. The Red Hand agent fell, his head barely still attached the rest of him. His next opponent although more than surprised, immediately countered with a mace. Joziah blocked with his shield but this time it shattered. It prevented his arm from breaking but the pain was excruciating. His arm was left numb and almost useless for combat.   Now that Joziah was turned back to face his enemy, he could see Fillian over his shoulder being pressed by his assailant. Things were not going well with Fillian in full defensive mode, looking like his sword would soon be knocked from his weakened grasp. It was just a matter of time. Joziah would have to take a huge risk to have any chance of taking down his enemy and still have an opportunity to save him. By the stars my own chances are not good!   The man opposite him must have been around forty years and going by the lines on his face they had been hard ones. But at the same time he looked strong; an old man strength. Joziah knew he couldn't match him in that department and he muttered a silent prayer to the child gods of death that he didn't also possess the guile that usually accompanied experience. He was about to find out.   The Red Hand circled towards his own left attempting to exploit the weakness of Joziah's lowered arm. He aimed a blow at Joziah's right which Joziah parried away with his sword, leaving him slightly unbalanced. But his opponent did not follow up. He did it again with a lower aim towards Joziah's right knee. Again a parry deflected the slash and again the Red Hand did not follow up with another attack. This man is toying with me, what is he waiting for.   Joziah knew he had to make a move. Fillian was about to succumb.   He motioned a feint with his sword towards his enemy's shield holding arm, deliberately aiming across his body. The man instinctively closed his body, moving his sword to block. Joziah then rushed the sword arm. As the man reopened his body to attack he found his sword blow blocked by Joziah's own weapon. With momentum now on Joziah's side he continued his forward rush and crushed his own body into that of his opponent. They both fell to the grounded winded. A large, sharply splintered, piece of his smashed shield was still firmly attached to his gauntleted right arm and as they rolled backwards he found the strength to jab it at the man. To his own surprise the makeshift wooden dagger found its mark, piercing his opponent's light tunic, chest and lung. The air hissed from his body.   Wasting no time Joziah pulled himself away from the dying man and ran towards Fillian. He shouted a cry of distraction and the final Red Hand turned to meet this new challenge. As he did so Fillian, now virtually prone on the ground, used the time he was given to stab his sword into the man's side. His life blood pouring from him, the man crumpled to one knee and looked blankly at him. To finish the job Fillian withdrew a concealed dagger from his boot and lodged it into the man's throat. He gargled on his own blood and quickly perished.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   For a few moments Joziah stood staring at his uncle, relief flowing through him. He came to his senses and ran back to the dying Red Hand ready to finish him. The man was now lying on his back, his breath crackling its way out of his body. As Joziah reached him he could see there was no remaining fight to win and he knelt in weariness next to him. He stared down fiercely at the man, a final curse on his lips. But what he saw only filled him with pity.   This man full of prejudice and hatred must have been raised in cruelty, he thought. No child is born with such a disposition to loathe others. Yes, he felt sorry for this man; for missing out on the life he could have had. No soul deserves that. As Joziah's own eyes softened the man look up into them and the corners of his mouth extended ever so slightly into a smile as if in unspoken understanding. Joziah placed his hand on the man's chest and whispered.   "Do not be afraid my brother. In another place and time we will know each other as friends, where we will drink together and sing. I promise this to you. Now, go and rest".   As those final syllables were uttered the man placed his blood-stained hand over Joziah's and squeezed. With that he took a final but easy breath, the hardened lines on his face now smoothed.   Fillian hobbled over and lowered himself painfully to sit beside Joziah and the now dead Red Hand. They stayed silent for several minutes, soaking in the events of the last five.   Finally Joziah spoke. "What happened uncle?"   "I looped back as usual looking out for anyone that may be following. And there they were. There were four of them. One was much closer and before I could think of diving to hide he saw me. He attacked without waiting for the others and I ironed him with a few blows. Only got a few scratches from him".   Fillian paused, blinked and then continued. "I just ran. I'm sorry Jo, I should have gone in a different direction, lured them away from you. But I got scared". He lowered his gaze, shame leaving him unable to meet Joziah's eyes.   "Don't uncle. You did the right thing. If you had, they would have caught you and killed you. And then they would have turned their attentions back to me. I'd have had no chance against three at once".   "Perhaps, and anyway you did pretty good against two!" Fillian pulled a smile and managed a chuckle.   "Because of your training uncle, you saved my life today years ago because of what you taught me. If this happens again, you do the same again". Joziah returned the smile.   "OK, that's a deal".   "To be honest I thought I'd had it. This one should have killed me. I did the best I could but I just got lucky. He fell for a trick that he seemed too good for". Joziah frowned.   "Come on Joziah, there is no time to doubt yourself. Let's rest here for the night. We'll not set a guard, we both need to sleep and if we are attacked, well we are in no shape to defend ourselves anyway. Let's just leave our fate in the hands of higher powers tonight". Fillian tilted his head towards the camp and hoisted himself up and extended his hand.   "You're right". Joziah took Fillian's hand and stood. Joziah's expression turned to one of confusion.   "Uncle, when I asked what happened, I was thinking about what I said to him. Instead of finishing him I felt pity instead. It seemed I was somehow detached, like it wasn't me saying the words".   Fillian's eyes widened slightly. "I saw you over him but I didn't hear what you said. And what do you mean it wasn't you?"   "I said that we would meet again and be friends. I even called him brother". Joziah buried his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "I don't understand".   Fillian spoke calmly and deliberately. "Look, we are both exhausted and confused right now. Sleep is what we need and tomorrow when we continue our journey we can talk more rationally about all this. We only have four or five days to go before we reach the foothills of The Teeth. We'll figure it out Joziah".   "Thank you uncle".   Using their last reserves of energy they dragged the bodies some way off, covering them as best they could with rocks and debris to minimise the chance of attracting animals, or worse. Joziah tended the fire and once satisfied it had enough wood to last the night, laid down close to his uncle. Within a few minutes they were both asleep.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 5

  The two men continued their journey through increasingly difficult conditions. The terrain was more rugged as they started to pass through foothills and the temperatures dropped off markedly. They had left well equipped but travelling light, along with generally avoiding settlements, meant they had little in the way of replacements for damaged gear. Their tent was wearing significantly from the high winds and clothes were ripped. Fortunately their boots had held up well, a small win in the war to keep warm enough to survive. And at least there was a pay-off in that it would be difficult for any further pursuers. Joziah knew they had got lucky the night after the attack of the Red Hand. Not wanting to push this luck they had returned to setting guard. Fillian though had ceased any scouting, forward or otherwise. He was too weary and needed all his energy to complete the journey. By contrast, Joziah felt strangely fresh and even strong. He had never been one to feel the cold in winter as much as others and his resilience meant he could give the best blankets, hides and protective clothing to his uncle, who he thought was looking all of his fifty-four years.   Occasionally they would spot one of the nomad tribes that dot the landscape in this region. Though these groups are peaceful the two decided not to run the risk of any contact and adjusted their route to avoid being seen.   Nearing their destination Joziah saw the way as if it was etched onto his own eyeballs. As he walked, the path opened up before him. Not sure now of who, or what, was guiding him, he found little comfort in this, except that at least it meant their journey time would be minimised.   The Teeth now stood just two days away and they settled in for the night. Fillian took guard but there are other forces in the night that cannot be seen with the waking eye and within an hour of falling into his sleep Joziah found himself in peril again.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Joziah was fleeing through rough icy caves and tunnels of varying size and shape, some of which he had to duck down when entering to avoid smashing his head open on the frozen low ceilings. The floors were slippery but he never lost his grip and was able to attain good speed through the twisting labyrinth. But his pursuers were relentless and it was just a matter of time before he was over-hauled. They were fit and trained fighters and strangely well equipped for these conditions. A thought blasted into his mind as the realisation of the inevitable descended on him, like drowning in fear. They must have known exactly where we were going. To be readily equipped for this place, they must have been informed. We are betrayed. One of our friends has betrayed us!   In his absentmindedness he banged his knee on a formation of ice poking from the wall of the tunnel and cried out but still running on through the pain. He could hear loudly now the responding shouts of his pursuer. Priestess. Stop now. I am your doom.   Joziah replied with as much venom as he could with his failing energies. You are too late. Our lord will rise again to end you.   Stop Mai scum. The shout rang in his ears as he ran the next turn. He was too tired to continue much longer. And when he completed the bend, what met him there told him it was the end.   In the large chamber Jander was crouched down next to Folen and Mythra. They had not made enough ground and yet they were so close to the exit. But it was done; there was no escape from the pursuing assassins. Looking up to him Jander uttered. I'm sorry beloved. It is too much for them, we cannot go any further.   Joziah scanned the exit to this particular cave, a wide opening that would soon lead to the border of Kaien, and escape, just some seven hundred or so meters away only. Heartbroken, his mind made up of what needed to be done in the time available, he nodded slowly to Jander and smiled. A sad smile, but one that spoke deeply of the love between them. He turned his loving gaze to the children and whispered. I love you, be brave.   Joziah then faced towards the wide exit, closed his eyes and summoned what was left of his energy. After a few moments an air splitting cracking sound reverberated in the chamber and then rumbled as if the whole place would fall in upon them, but it didn't.   He completed his task just at the time his pursuers entered the chamber and he turned to face them. They were led by a man he knew of. Vistok, an assassin of the Red Hand. Dressed in black and red trimmed winter garb he sneered at Joziah. Behind him four more dressed the same came tearing around the turn and stopped. They were hopelessly outnumbered. He turned to face his family once more upon hearing the hoarse whispers of the children trying to sing, and in time to witness the horror of Jander completing the unthinkable act.   His utter sadness was only matched by his rage, nothing the like of which he had ever experienced. Joziah leapt forward towards Vistok, his dagger glinting coldly from the light cast by their torches and natural light that filtered through from above and beyond the chamber. The blade nearly hit its mark, but at the last moment it was blocked by a katana, the favoured blade of many assassins of the Red Hand. A counter double strike came fast and hard. First a blow to the jaw from the torch Vistok held and then an arcing slice from his blade that lacerated Joziah's back from neck to kidney. He fell, with the taste of his own blood in his mouth, only to see Jandar charge the five assassins with a wildness that momentarily unnerved them. As he ran he thrust his short sword towards Vistok's chest who parried, but Jander using his momentum to carry on forwards plunged his blade into the second assassin. He went limp and died, but as his body fell its weight dragged Jander down and off balance. Jander did not have to wait long for the blows to rain down on him and he fell face down. His blood pooled on the chamber floor in front of his eyes, his life draining along with it.    Witnessing this, the rage in Joziah rose one final time. For the first time in his life he was about to use his magic directly to harm. The four remaining assassins turned to him, but he knew that they would not kill him. Instead he would be taken and tortured for information he would never surrender, and then ultimately, they would slay him. No, I will at least be the vehicle of my own death... And theirs.   He looked over to Jander who lay face on its side looking back at him, his life all but spent. I love you my husband.   His last act, Joziah pressed his remaining life into the icy floor and with the final beat of his heart the energy pulsed through the structure of the chamber. The ringing laughter of the Red Hand assassins faltered as they felt the walls vibrate and the floors crack. Lumps of the ceiling began to fall on top of them, killing one with a sickening thud. The others fled back the way they came, dodging more blocks of ice, but just as they thought they would make it the ceiling there collapsed, sealing them in.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Fillian had calmed down Joziah in the usual way so he was ready to talk. The night storm continued to howl outside their tent, the high winds intensifying the piercing cold and the night sky was filled with threatening clouds. Joziah's shouts had cut through the cacophony of the winds like they weren't there, waking his uncle instantly. Fillian, red faced, huddled beneath hides but they could not keep out the cold brought by the winds that now blew towards The Teeth. "The same one?" he asked loudly. In a hushed, devastated tone that still cut through the wind, Joziah told his uncle of the despair of what he had experienced. "Yes but also no. It was the same chase, but it went a little further. And this time I saw it all through my mother's eyes. It was even more real. I could see, touch, feel, taste". Joziah paused for a long while and Fillian gave him the space to assimilate what he had witnessed and felt.   "She's dead uncle, I saw it all. They are all dead. They were so close to getting out but they just ran out of time". Joziah looked ahead, The Teeth had been in sight on and off for the last couple days when the storm occasionally relented. Right now the skies and air were clearer and The Teeth appeared to Joziah to be mocking him with a toothy grin; a place that had been his hope for so long. How he hated the mountains now. If he could he would raise them from the ground and smash them into pieces if gravel. His attention was broken by clouds suddenly drumming with thunder over the mountains. Calming again, he looked at the very spot on the horizon where the entrance to the cave system stood. I'm still coming to you. To rescue you from that place. And we will be together.   "Joziah. Joziah!" Fillian yelled above the wind.   Coming back to the present, the fire in Joziah's glare burned straight through Fillian. "We're leaving uncle, now. I'm not waiting for morning. Pack you things and let's get this over. And if there are more Red Hand bastards out there I'll tear them all apart".   Fillian fell back at the force of Joziah's words that were so unlike him, and such a contrast to the compassion he showed to the Red Agent as he died. And then he felt astonishment because as Joziah finished his words a small break in the clouds formed overhead revealing another new moon that shouldn't be; it shone down more brightly than any he had ever seen. The next is not due for days he confirmed to himself. And yet silver strands of light like the hair of the goddess Kore herself were streaking down from the sky like lightening plunging into the ground. It seemed so powerful that it would light the world below, as well as that above.   Quietly, he watched the man in front of him stand and begin gathering his things in the moonlight.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   The storm had worsened considerably as if mimicking Joziah's mood. Winds bashed into them occasionally knocking Fillian flat on his back. They still had enough supplies and Fillian was consuming most of them as his energy levels dramatically fell away. Joziah continued on strongly driven by a powerful mix of determination supplemented with anger. The wind didn't seem to touch him and his face was barely reddened by the freezing temperature. Off to the north they had spotted another camp of nomads. They thought these were probably headed back to their fixed winter location in some valley a little closer to the mountains. They had not been able to spot the usual snow deer that these people reared and depended on for survival, so this was most likely a small group that continued to hunt before finally following the larger family group home. Fillian confirmed he was convinced they were not Red Hand but as before they skirted below them to be safe.   Joziah had not truly recognised the plight of his uncle until they were in clear sight of the mountainside. He could now spot the location where the entrance was waiting to be found along the white-grey edge of the base of the highest mountain in this section of the range. It was early evening and the storm had finally cleared leaving the darkening surroundings eerily quiet. Only about three kilometers remained. Joziah stared through the gloom and a picture of the entrance formed in his mind. It was hidden by rock and ice but not to his eyes. This is the exit they were so close to. I wonder if they had allies on this side waiting for them. His heart bled and the anger he had been feeling finally burned out like spent fuel and replaced with sadness again. Finally, the storm seemed to be subsiding but he suddenly felt the bitter cold again.   Fillian stumbled and fell to the ground on his knees. Joziah strode over to him. "Uncle, please forgive me. You must rest before we make our final approach and enter the caves. The storm is blowing over; we will continue when it has passed".   Without arguing, Fillian sat down. They lit a small fire and ate more of their rations. After an hour the storm had indeed blown out for now and the sky cleared. They both stood in readiness to leave. Fillian scanned their surroundings in the fading light as best he could for any final sign of danger and nodded his satisfaction to Joziah that all was set to continue. Each gathered their own thoughts in preparation for what they may be about to face. Joziah breathed deeply, eyes closed in a moment of prayer. So this is it. Now guide me one last time mother   They trudged off towards the mountain base.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 6

  With the sky still clear, the emerging moon threw its silvery glow across the landscape as they reached the site seen so vividly by Joziah. During the final meters of his approach the image suddenly blinked out of his mind. No matter, he knew what he had to do. "We are here" he announced.   "There's nothing here. Just mountain and poor light". Fillian scrutinised and felt round the cold stone but nothing, no sign of any entrance. "Joziah, if there is an entrance here a mouse couldn't get through".   Ignoring his uncle, Joziah walked to and then along the rock face for ten meters. He looked upwards and took in the beauty of the stars. Momentarily he was drawn into their endless depths and then he focused his gaze on the moon. Thank you for lighting my way. He abruptly reached out his hand slotting it through a small unseen crevice. Grabbing what felt like a bar he pulled. Standing back he listened to the crunching sound of stone on stone as it reverberated and bounced off the mountain rock. The ground split open and slid apart leaving a roughly rectangular opening. Stairs led downwards into the dark.   "If we can't go through, we go under". Joziah flashed a wry smile at Fillian and motioned with his head that it was time to descend.   "As you say" was all that Fillian said in response as both men took out a torch, their weapons sheathed and ready should they be required. Fillian's thoughts raced. He could see a transformation in Joziah. There had been clues for many days but now it was almost unmistakable. There was no vision now, no-one guiding him he thought. It must be Joziah himself. What I have hoped for twenty years. What I have worked for. This is the moment of realisation.  The mental abilities he had applied to his nephew and his visions for so long he now applied to himself. Focus on your breathing, nothing else matters. Be calm. Be ready. He looked down into the dark opening as his nephew disappeared, and followed.   A few moments afterwards the cloaked figure Joziah and Fillian had seen over two weeks ago silently descended from a high perch a stone's throw away to the south. Shelendra pulled back her hood and padded across to the stairs. Confident that she hadn't been seen she started to descend.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Joziah and Fillian took the steps down to a smoothly cut, largely circular, tunnel that clearly led off into the mountain. Its pinkish white walls brightly reflected the torches they had lit as they descended and felt wet to the touch. It twisted its way into the mountain and then rose upwards until after a hundred meters or more they found themselves in a huge cavern. The colours of the rock and ice structures were breathtaking. Pinks, greens, blues, creams, and practically every other colour that could be thought of was found here. It was simply stunning. The wall and ceilings looked waxy and glistening. There was natural light in here too, somehow filtering through from above or around, they couldn't tell. Blue and green algae plastered a significant proportion of the surfaces and these too emitted light mixing with the rest in the cavern to produce a light show that left two men in awe. The smell of the place was less spectacular; it was musty and caught unpleasantly at the back of their throats. But the temperature was no worse than cool, a pleasant contrast to the outside they had left only minutes ago.   Fillian looked sideways at Joziah, waiting for a move. All of his visions were from the other end of this cave system, his family having fled from the other side of this great range, and so he was looking to see if he seemed confused. His question was answered when Joziah set off purposefully towards the back left of the cavern. He sees. As they got closer they saw an opening to a wide tunnel and Joziah began to run.   "It's so close uncle, a few turns only and we are there". He was younger and quicker leaving Fillian rapidly behind. Fillian called after him to be careful and slow down but there was no point. Joziah had no thoughts but for his family.   Fortunately there were no off-shoots to this tunnel or the caves that it linked, so following Joziah was straightforward enough, but as he ran Fillian was constantly slipping and occasionally falling on the icy surface. After no more than several hundred meters, he slid round a bend, banged into the opposite wall and was faced with an incredible sight as he looked to the end of this funnel shaped area. Joziah was twenty meters further ahead of him, at the wider end of the funnel, curled on the floor in obvious pain peering through a massive wall of ice. It measured at least ten metres high and fifteen wide and was astonishingly pure; so clear there was practically no visible distortion. He could see every detail of the gruesome scene behind. But what he saw was not the event Joziah was witnessing.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Joziah sped from the multi-coloured cavern as fast as he could with no thought for his uncle. He was searching for other members of his family. The floor was icy and slippery but he managed without any problem to keep his footing. Suddenly up ahead he could hear shouts. He recognised his mother's desperate shouts. Hope rose again in him. Was I so wrong? I can save them. "Mother, it's me. I coming to you, just hold on". He mentally prepared himself to ready his weapon when he saw the Red Hand assassins. He knew there would be five of them, but he vowed to himself to take Vistok down first.   "Vistok, you bastard, you're mine". He hoped that hearing his voice may cause the assassin to hesitate and beyond all hope also stop his father from now needlessly taking the lives of his brother and sister.   The noises were louder now. He flew round what he hoped was the final turn. And it was. All the hopes he had been petrified to entertain were realised. His mother was there. Her silver hair was full of frozen water gathered during her flight through the caves. Her clothes were cut and blood ran down one of her shins from a nasty looking cut on her knee. Looking grimly determined she raised her hands, palms facing out.   "No mother, wait. Don't do it. Wait!"   He felt rumbles that shook the tunnel and the sound of splintering rock that burst in his ears. He carried on running desperate to get there in time, to get inside and defend his family. He was so near. But he thudded against the wall with bone crunching force. The air in his lungs burst out of him and he crumpled to the floor. As he went down he saw his mother press against the floor behind an outcrop of rock and look straight back into his eyes. She nodded.   Joziah looked on in horror as he then saw the death of his family repeated in front of him as he had seen it before, but he couldn't move, he couldn't speak, and he couldn't look away. Hope drained again from his soul like blood from a fatal wound. Jander swung his blade. Folen, Mythra. Vistok saw and blocked his mother's lunge and battered her to the ground. Jandar, already dying inside from the loss of his children drove forward and killed an assassin before a flurry of strikes cut him down. Father. And at the end his mother mouthing her final words to her beloved displayed the kind of courage that the Red Hand would never possess or comprehend.   As the ceiling collapsed the assassins ran but it was too late. One was dropped by the ice fall and the others were left trapped in an icy tomb with nothing to do but wait to die. They tried to smash through the ice-wall, but the magic that his mother had poured into it was too strong for them to take even the smallest chip from it; her powers that had frozen the final moments of their lives in glass-like ice so he could see them played back, and finally understand. How tortured the assassins must have been as they waited for death to come, when they could clearly see the way out through that crystal clear barrier. A fitting death, Joziah thought, for those cowards that prey on others because of their beliefs, and kill adults and children without distinction. But Joziah could not take any satisfaction or solace from the fact.   Nor could he cry. No tears fell or formed. He was numb. He doubted he could ever cry again. He simply sat and watched; the pain from his injury masked by seeing the true deaths of his family as they happened.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 7

  Joziah looked up as he heard his uncle approaching. "Nephew, what happened to you? You're hurt". Fillian was genuinely surprised by the physical condition of Joziah. While waiting for an answer he peered through the wall more closely at the same picture he had seen when first entering the area. The bodies of his brother, half-sister, niece, and nephew remained largely preserved by the conditions within. He noted the Red Hand agents and their failure to achieve their mission. He felt the shock of the situation but he had to focus on the present.   Wincing in pain Joziah forced himself to stand, pushing away the help offered by his uncle. "I saw them as they fled into the chamber. Saw the whole thing play out again through this wall.  The flight, the magic, the deaths. The courage, the love. I wasn't able to make it past this point before my mother put the wall in place. But then, I was never meant to". He turned to his uncle.    "I don't understand what you're saying to me Joziah". Fillian could see the assuredness of the young man in front of him.   "Well, I do". With that, Joziah walked through the ice-wall.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   The action that Shelendra had witnessed in the multi-coloured chamber was chaotic. The two men entered carefully and appeared to be methodically scouting out the area. And then the chaos. Joziah had suddenly sped off like a runaway carriage at the races, and Fillian chased after him like a bad comedy actor in a cheap play as he slipped and cursed, falling over his own feet. But, she thought, it did serve as yet further confirmation regarding her husband. Her belief in what he was had completed its own journey, now solidified into knowledge. There were too many signs, and more recently evidence, to ignore. She also believed that Joziah was becoming more aware of his own nature. As such she had already put the next phase of her mission in place. The team had been assembled and was outside the caves waiting for Joziah to emerge. By the end of this night the artefact will be secured.   She identified a hiding place she could use for when the two returned. But for now Shelendra wanted to keep a closer eye on them until they made their way back out. She skulked her way along the direction they had taken. In these caves and chambers the movements of her husband and his uncle had echoed loudly as they pounded their boots across the cave floors and splashed through surface puddles. But Shelendra had for years been trained in the art of concealment and moving silently, and she was exceptionally adept at it. Following her target, she made only the merest sounds of soft taps and echoes, before they evaporated into silence.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Joziah passed through the ice-wall like it was a motionless waterfall. It felt wet to him, but as he emerged on the other side, he was completely dry. He moved first to his mother's body and knelt beside her. No tears threatened his eyes. Much of the ceiling collapse remained in place, littering the floor surface. However, Joziah noticed not a single block had touched the bodies of his family; he was impressed at the power his mother had.    He began to move all of his family closer to the ice-wall. His focus was to take them out of this place and perform the Ascent Ritual that was customary for the Koushan Mai of his particular church. At least in this way he could confirm their souls had found their way to The Nightlands, the afterlife of the Koushan Mai. Although true to his faith, he did not have the sight to know if they had already managed the ascent.   Attending to his brother and sister was the most difficult task given the nature of their deaths. As he gathered them gently he recalled how they sat together, faced away from the terror behind them. And, as their mother and father had asked them to, they sang. It was the song they had all sang to him as a baby. He could remember the tune and through his visions, and awakened memories, he now knew a few fragments of the words.   He also thought of his father and how he had the courage to do what he did. He would have known that the fate of Folen and Mythra would have been infinitely worse with the Red Hand than the quick, painless death he had gifted them. He wondered if he could do the same, but he suppressed that thought instantly. The separation from his daughter was breaking his heart somewhere inside him.   Having finished moving his family he sat down beside them. He looked up and imagined the endless fields of the afterlife under the always night sky littered with stars, and prayed for them.   Rising from his prayer he stood before the ice-wall again. Fillian was on the other side staring back at him. After the smallest of nods, Joziah placed his hands palm out onto it's now solid feeling, cold surface. His hands were placed almost exactly on the same points as his mother's when she had produced it, and with a simple command from his mind it was gone. He looked to his uncle and beckoned him over.   "How are you feeling Joziah?" Fillian could not see or sense any strong emotion from his nephew and that unnerved him slightly.   "I am coping. Being in the company of my family is already showing me the level of courage that I should aspire to. A level I have lacked in my life. We need to take them from here and carry out Ascendance. I have decided to speak with one of the local nomadic groups. They are peaceful and have strong spiritual beliefs, including respect for other cultures different to their own. I believe they will help me". He began to cover over the bodies with some of the fallen rocks to act as a temporary mark of respect when his uncle spoke.   "What about the artefact Joziah? We need to search for it. Given your accounts to me of your visions, there is no indication that they hid it anywhere before reaching this chamber. The wall and collapse has prevented anyone from ever being able to gain access here. I think you must be the first. So it may well be somewhere in here". His voice was calm but his expression indicated his eagerness and urgency.   "You're right, the artefact is here. I can feel it". No question came from his uncle so Joziah walked over to where his mother had been when she nodded at him through the ice-wall. Sunken into the ground beside some rock formations and collapsed ceiling, he could see a small icy, dirty bowl-shaped structure. Within that he saw a darker outline of an object. His uncle followed him over and looked directly down upon it.   "Is that it? I'll dig it out". Fillian quickly unsheathed his sword and began to jab at it. After a few moments, Joziah squeezed his uncle's shoulder and manoeuvred him away.   "That won't work". To emphasise the point he indicated there was no mark left by the blade. Kneeling down, Joziah closed his eyes and reached his hand down, as it became engulfed in the softest pale blue flame, and into the sunken structure. He grasped the object inside and lifted it free.   In his hand Joziah Kai held a book.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  

Chapter 8

  Shelendra had waited for over three hours before she heard evidence of the men's return. It came in the form of raised voices. "Let me examine it now nephew. So we can ensure it is the artefact and maybe find what power it contains". Fillian had been pressing this on Joziah impatiently since his nephew had retrieved the book. His eyes looked eagerly at the item now in his presence.   "There is no need. It is my mother's book, and the recording in the ice wall showed me where she sealed it at the end of her life. It is the artefact you have spoken of". Joziah stooped to gather their packs from the main chamber where they had left them.   "The recording, what do you mean?"   "The ice-wall is elemental magic formed by her to record their last moments and identify where the book was sealed as protection against being found; except by me. The recording began to play again when I first saw the wall. I thought I could get to them before my mother created it but in reality it was already in place. My visions uncle; the same recording transmitted into my mind over and over from different perspectives; to bring me here in search of them and the book".   "But who transmitted the images to you. Your mother died in that chamber". Fillian understood something of elemental magic and the ice-wall was not an extravagant idea to him, but Kailin could not have transmitted the visions after her death.   Both men had stopped now just before the entrance to the narrowing tunnel that lead to the stairs and outside into the night. Joziah looked around the vast chamber, its colours now even more vibrant and breathtakingly beautiful. He looked up to the ceiling and could see the silver moonlight seeping through the rock and the air all around him. "My mother is with us".   Fillian decided now was the time he had to act. He was convinced the artefact was genuine and this weapon of myth must be secured for his people, and he wanted to be the one to do it. "Give the book to me Joziah".   "Why, uncle?" Joziah looked at Fillian with no expression of emotion.   "The book must be protected and whilst I do not wish to be insensitive of your situation, your mental state is not... robust". Fillian's words were harsh but he tried to display understanding and love. "I will look after it until we reach home. We can take no risks Joziah, the artefact is too important to our people".   "And whose people are they uncle?" Joziah, while still appearing emotionless, made clear his understanding in his look.   "Ah, I see. You doubt me nephew. May I ask why?"   "Perhaps it's the lack of emotional reaction at seeing your dead brother and his family back there, or maybe I see more clearly now the staged attack to make it appear the Red Hand was hunting us as you said you feared. What was the bargain made with those men Fillian, that their families would be released if they died to make you look loyal to me?" Fillian simply stared with growing malevolence at Joziah, his loathing for his nephew now open to see and boiling up.   "But mainly it's because of the increasing closeness to my divine mother as we got nearer and nearer to this place, and this book. It seems to have wiped away all the barriers and misdirection you have placed in my mind all these years uncle. To stop my magical abilities from developing; to believe faithfully in you, of course, and even to feel doubt in my beloved wife". Joziah stopped. He stood serene, hands at his sides.   "It was you that betrayed them, your own brother and his family. At least in that you spoke some truth. The Hand will sacrifice anything. But more accurately, they will sacrifice anything but themselves".   "Enough! Time's up my nephew". The sarcasm slimed out of Fillian's mouth and backing off slightly he slowly, disdainfully drew his sword. Joziah made no move.   "It appears it falls to me to finish the job I began over twenty years ago. First Jander and his scum family, and now you. The Hand will receive me as a hero when I walk from these caves with the book in one hand and your filthy head in the other. I don't need their help to finish you. As you so rightly say, the attack was an illusion. You have no skill at arms that can match my training from The Hand". Joziah still remained motionless.   Fillian swung his sword up and down in a vertical arc towards the top of Joziah's head. A clash of steel on steel rang out in the chamber as Shelendra appeared from her hiding place to block Fillian's death blow and then knocked him backwards with a side-kick to his chest.   "But I do Red Hand". Shelendra followed up her initial success by forcing back the winded Fillian to an icy part of the floor surface with a flurry of sword blows. He lost his balance and slipped drunkenly to the floor. His elbow bashed into the ground dislodging the sword from his grasp. She began her move to end this hateful man's life, but Joziah's voice stopped her.   "No Shelendra, let him live". He walked over and placed his hand on her shoulder as she halted her attack.   "Why? He should pay for his betrayal".   "He will be judged and punished for his actions. But it is not our place to be his judge, and death is no punishment for him, only rest".   Suddenly Fillian shouted out "Then I'll judge for myself". He moved swiftly for the dagger in his boot, grasped it, and dug it deeply into his own heart.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   "We must be prepared for the Red Hand to be outside waiting for us. Once we are passed them, we go for help to retrieve my family". At the same time he spoke, Joziah was thinking of how they might attempt escape or, more likely, fight their way out. "Don't worry, I have friends with me. I've been sending word of your directions, and those of the Red Hand pack that I've monitored following you. They will have dealt with them". Shelendra smiled at her husband.   "I hope so. We'll see in a moment". Joziah turned and began to walk back to the stairs.   "I can't believe you did nothing to stop Fillian from striking you down. What were you thinking Jo?" Shelendra had been struggling to suppress the question, but she couldn't stop it from bursting out of her any longer.   "I knew you were there".   "Impossible. My training allows me to move silently... like a shadow". Her glare laced with a wry grin was daring Joziah to contradict her.   "Well shadows are pretty quiet, I'll grant you. But you splashed around like Fillian back there". For a moment Joziah felt amusement and there was a connection between the couple. But in a flash the emotion was gone and he continued on his way out.   The circular tunnel was almost dark and they edged their way cautiously to the base of the stairs and looked up into the soft light. All was quiet. They climbed and finally poked their heads above ground level. Joziah's breathe was taken by what he saw.   Twenty grey-cloaked figures stood in a semicircle some five meters away from where Joziah and Shelendra had appeared. The golden light from the torches they held flickered as the cold breeze made the flames dance. Shadows played across their features and their eyes brightened at the appearance of those they had been waiting for. Shelendra reached for and squeezed Joziah's hand and whispered her confirmation that these were the friends she had spoken off.   The arc of women and men looked centred and peaceful. Beyond them to his own left, Joziah noticed a group of other individuals that were sat in a circle, bound and gagged. Their heads sagged, some appearing to be unconscious.   "Your friends have been busy". Joziah looked at his wife as she grinned with relief.   At that moment a blaze of silver shone around the gathering. Joziah looked to the sky and there shone a new moon, the brightest moon seen for a thousand years. He looked back to the people around him to find they now knelt before him. Shelendra too was kneeling at his side. Gently, he helped his wife to her feet and beckoned the others to stand also.   From the centre of the semicircle one stepped forward lowering her hood. "Welcome Joziah, I am Ethraine. We are your guardians and your family. Our people have waited a thousand years for your soul to return to us from the Nightlands. You hold the book, but I believe you already suspect that it is you who is the true artefact, the true power that can lead us from our persecution. We are here to help and guide you if we are needed".   "Thank you Ethraine, I am glad to accept your offer of help; I am in true need of it. I understand much more now but I still feel I am just touching the surface, and passing through these events without control. It's as if I am many people taking over from each other again and again. I cannot properly explain".   "Don't worry; you have explained it perfectly for now. Your soul is ancient beyond measure Joziah, renewed countless times, and it remembers all its previous existences. You are a chosen of the goddess of the moon, a Child of Kore, and she has given you back to us now, renewed... to save us. The book contains the knowledge and experiences of all your lives on this world throughout the ages. Only you can read it, but in time as you remember, you will no longer need to. We can help you learn to remember and also to retain control of who you are now in this life - Joziah Kai, husband of Shelendra and father to Alyndra. It will be difficult, but it will be your source of great wisdom and power; the strongest weapon with which to fight the hate that rages around us all".   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   At the instruction of Joziah the Koushan Mai priests gathered the bodies of his family and the whole group set off to the priest's camp not far to the North West, their prisoners in tow. Deeply concerned, Joziah now believed the souls of all his family had been sealed within the chamber as power to sustain the magic of the ice-wall and its record. Ethraine did not believe it possible for them to make the Ascent to the Nightlands. Their souls would either be too weak or most likely already extinguished.   On the journey, Joziah and Shelendra swapped their stories of the last thirty or so days. Joziah also explained how Fillian had manipulated his mind and he apologised for his doubts about her. But during their talks Shelendra recognised he was keeping a space between them, physically and emotionally. She hoped it was just a short-lived symptom of the events he had endured.   The group arrived at the camp in the early morning where Joziah was encouraged to rest. He resisted, desperate to talk with Ethraine about the ritual, but finally he acceded and slept.   He wasn't surprised to find his first sight upon waking was Shelendra. She smiled but he could tell she felt concerned and he understood why. Since seeing his family die that last time through the recording his emotions were scattered. The sight of their real bodies gave him finality of their physical fate but he didn't feel he could move on. His mortal mother and father sacrificed everything for him including Folen and Mythra.   "Is everything being prepared for the ritual Shelendra?"   "Yes. The time is set for midnight. Joziah, can we talk?" Shelendra continued before he could say anything. "I want to help you but you are so distant. You've barely spoken and you haven't come to me, or kissed me. I have always loved you Joziah, as I still do".   "I understand, and know that I love you and Aly, but I can't shake the images or their voices. I feel numb. I must focus on the Ascent tonight and then maybe..." Joziah's words trailed off. He couldn't make promises he didn't know he could keep.   Shelendra simply nodded. She could feel and understand his mental anguish and she also knew that somewhere inside he was in enormous pain, which he had hidden away. But despite all her understanding and love, right now she didn't know what to do, and feared her husband might never return.   -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   By midnight all was ready. The sky was clear, the winds gone. Moonlight bathed the gathering, its silver illumination complementing the winter cold.   The bodies had been placed onto makeshift pallets fashioned from hides, with the priests forming a large circle around them. Next to the pallets sat a stone bowl of sanctified water used to cleanse the deceased bodies, washing away any harmful spirits that may prevent the Ascent. As the closest blood relative it fell to Joziah to complete. The task was a particularly difficult one but he did it without display.   Ethraine then stepped forward and called upon the souls to fly to the Nightlands with words that had been spoken for hundreds of years. Joziah nervously joined Ethraine in the centre and set the pallets ablaze. The whole gathering then retreated from the flames, seated themselves on the ground, and prayed.   The priests directed their prayers to Lilika and Fain, the twin child gods of death, whose realm was the Nightlands. They looked up to the stars in the clear night sky, acting like a reflection of the millions of souls that resided, for now, on the mortal world below. The priests asked the twins to watch out for the souls of the Kai family and welcome them to the endless fields where they could rest and in time be renewed. But as they did do so, Joziah instead prayed to Kore. He begged his goddess to use her vision now to search for his family's souls and show them the way, as she had done for him on his own journey.    The priests completed their prayers and although the bodies would be left to burn for most of the next day, the ritual was complete. Shelendra shifted closer to her husband's side, watching him intently. Joziah had not once lifted his head from his prayer and he still continued. Two hours went by and no one in the gathering had left their position. They would not do so without Joziah. Shelendra looked over to Ethraine who returning her gaze, shook her head sadly.   Whispering gently Shelendra spoke to him "We should return to our tents Jo, the others won't retire until you do. I'm afraid there's nothing more to be done". There was no response, or pause in his prayer. Shelendra could do little else but remain quietly by his side as the minutes went by.   And then suddenly she saw Joziah begin to cry. His body heaved as he openly sobbed with tears pouring from his eyes like rain onto the ground in front of him.   "Jo, I'm so sorry. We'll get through this, I swear".   At her words Joziah looked up to her and she was startled by what she saw. His tears still flowing like rivers down his face, he was smiling at her, his eyes bright with happiness.   So confused she pleaded with him. "By the stars Jo, what is it?"   "They've made it to the Nightlands Shel. I can hear them singing!"    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   THE END

Entry for WorldEmber 2020

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Other Worlds
Author
t_cats
Publication Date
3 Dec, 2020
Creation Date
2 Dec, 2020
Last Update Date
16 Dec, 2020
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Exalted Councilor of the Inner Sanctum Vazdimet
Jan 31, 2021 22:15 by Morgan Biscup

You made me cry.   What a beautiful story.

Lead Author of Vazdimet.
Necromancy is a Wholesome Science.
Sage t_cats
Feb 1, 2021 15:52

Thank you so much for your comment. I really enjoyed writing this and learned loads from going through the process of writing a story. Looking forward to doing more. Thanks again! :)

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