Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) (20 page)

The wording he had heard, such as Ashael’s grace, reminded him of religious language, and so he asked, “Is she your God; or Goddess, I guess?”

It was a rare occasion for Aneh to look confused as she asked, “What is a God, or Goddess?”

It wasn’t a question Michael was prepared for, never expecting to be asked to describe God, and he found it difficult to find words when he wasn’t sure he understood himself, “That’s a really good question. Where I come from there’s quite a lot of argument about what God is, and even whether He exists.”

He thought for a moment before continuing, “But I guess most people who believe in God believe that He created the earth, and that He is super-powerful; that He can do anything He wants, that He knows everything. Others believe there are a lot of different Gods, male and female – that’s where Goddesses come in. And others just don’t believe in any God, and think that everything exists because of some kind of great cosmic explosion.”

She pondered what Michael had said for several minutes, both of them sitting in silence, until she looked at him and asked, “What do you believe?”

After a moment’s pause, he replied, “I don’t know. It would be nice… you know, if there was someone up there,” he gestured at the night sky with his eyes, “who was interested in me; who cared about me. But…” he paused again. He had already told Aneh of his life, but it was still difficult for him to say, “…well, life hasn’t been very good to me, and I think if there was a God who loved me, like the Christians say, then maybe my life might have been different.”

Aneh looked serious as she carefully replied, her head titled to one side, “There is a saying amongst the Elahish, ‘You must not judge the value of the destination by the ease of the journey’. I do not understand what you have experienced, or the world you have come from,” she said, “so perhaps I am wrong to say, but how can you know whether it is ultimately not a good thing that your life has been difficult?”

Michael felt the question stab at him. It wasn’t a fair question, and an irritation quickly rose within him. But he suppressed it, knowing that Aneh was trying to be kind. “So who said that thing about not judging things by how easy the journey is?”

Aneh smiled again. “Ashael.”

“Okay,” he said, “So if she’s not a Goddess, then who is she?”

She took a deep breath before commencing. “How the world came to be,” she began, “or for what purpose, we do not know. But it is said that in the long distant past, a being of great power walked this land. Known only as the Seer, he foresaw our land to the end of time. He witnessed in vision the needs the children of Aylosia would have, and for reasons that were his own, determined to prepare for them. And so he bore three children: Esteriel, Dathmiel, and Ashael. Each was given a gift, thus endowed that they may pass to the land’s people the things they needed most.

“To Dathmiel,” she explained, “the Seer’s only son, was given the ability to extend feelings of strength into the hearts of people, so that even in the harshest of times, they would be able to endure well. To Esteriel was given the capacity to grant patience, enabling men and women to wait for those things that would give the greatest joy. And finally, to his youngest and most beloved daughter Ashael, the Seer granted the greatest of his gifts: the ability to make people feel a pure love.

“Born to the Seer, the three were immortal, and were sent from Aylosia before men and women came to live here, so that they would learn of the wide world and of their gifts. What fates befell Dathmiel and Esteriel it is not known, but three thousand summers past, Ashael returned from her long education of countless millennia, bringing with her a handful of small families. From where they came, it is not known, but it is said that she had rescued them from doom in a far land, bringing them here for their safety.”

Aneh spoke as if the story or legend she retold was well known to her, not having to concentrate to relate it. She looked at Michael as she spoke, and Michael could see stars reflected in her eyes, their vast distance seemingly echoing the huge passage of time in the tale.
 

“By the shores of the sea in this new land, the small group built a city into the very cliffs, Tsatsalsha, where they lived and prospered for a thousand summers. A devastation that is now lost to our knowledge befell the inhabitants of Tsatsalsha, and the people fled into Aylosia’s heartland, Ashael still with them to offer her precious gift.

“There they built first the great city of Aperocalsa; but soon other small villages also were established: Italcalsa, Mirucalsa, and others. It is said that Tsatsalsha had fallen in part because the people grew too numerous and Ashael was not able to extend to all the feelings of love that they needed, hate and jealousy growing in its place. And so in each new city were constructed Talleth: buildings that would house a portion of Ashael’s grace. Knowing that people would wander and could become lost in the forests and mountains of Aylosia, she also imbued carefully selected stones in underground caverns scattered across the land, causing them to glow blue or green to make them easily found by weary travellers. They are the Kerid stones. Thus wherever the land’s children travelled they would have access to Ashael’s grace and could keep the destructive forces of hate and jealously at bay.”

Aneh’s face now started to show sadness as she continued with her story, “Then, little more than a thousand summers past, a strange white messenger appeared from Dawnseer Peak in the west, foretelling the birth of a child to Ashael. It was not believed that Ashael could bear children and the news was greeted both with wonder and mistrust. The child was prophesied to lead the people of Aylosia to unimagined heights of achievement, and the whole people of the land rejoiced when Ashael gave birth to a baby boy, naming him Jashmarael.”

Michael waited for more of the story, and spoke only when silence had remained for a couple of minutes, Aneh having become pensive. “That sounds amazing, but you don’t look happy about it. What happened?”

“No,” she said, “It was not good. Whether the white messenger was deceiver or deceived, it is not known, but Ashael’s child was full of darkness. He grew to despise those with a Weaving, believing they threatened his destiny, and devised a plan to expel them from the city. He hid his hate from Ashael, secretly building his power until even his own mother was forced to flee. Those with a Weaving were cast from the city, families divided as fathers hated their child for their gift, or children hated their mothers.
 
And so those evicted became the Elahish: the outcast.”

Aneh now looked away. “Jashmarael built an army and destroyed the Talleth. His soldiers also sought out the underground caverns and buried or hid those they could discover. The villages were destroyed so that all would either live under his guidance in Aperocalsa, or would be Elahish. He eventually sent his warriors to seek the Elahish, to destroy us completely from the land of Aylosia. He almost succeeded, but a small few survived and retreated to the forests where they could hide and defend themselves, and where we remain to this day.”

Another pause followed, and Michael respected the silence for a moment before asking, “What happened to Ashael?”
 

“We do not know,” Aneh sighed, now looking distant. “Jashmarael’s heart became so evil that eventually he sought even the life of his mother, and she was forced to flee the land. That was a thousand winters past. Jashmarael has long since been replaced by men who simply call themselves the Guardian, but each in his turn maintains a hatred towards us and would have us destroyed. We remain the Elahish.”

Michael pondered on the story and the sorrow in Aneh’s voice as she related it. She had told it as if it were history, although with the timescales involved much of it must have been little more than myth. But still, he had seen coloured stones that did indeed seem to radiate feelings of peace and love. Perhaps the legend had been created to explain them, he thought.

“So, all you have left of her is those Kerid stones?” he asked.

She returned her gaze to him as she replied, “Many believe that she will return again, but until then, we have only the Kerid stones, found in those few caverns which we have discovered.”

The mood had become sombre, and it had now grown late into the night. There was another full day’s walk tomorrow, but Michael didn’t want to end the night on such a tone. Attempting to lighten the mood, he said, “Well, maybe being outcast isn’t so bad.”

Aneh looked at him with a quizzical expression, as he continued, “Well, what I’ve seen so far is all pretty amazing. And even if we have to wander for another thousand years, I once heard this great expression: something like, ‘You must not judge the value of the destination by the ease of the journey’.”

His smile was returned by Aneh now, and they parted for the night to their bedrolls.

***

After lunch the following day, Aneh was finally released from her duty to accompany Arevu and her son, and Michael felt much happier when she came to walk alongside him. Even when the air grew cold, and a light rain turned to sleet, his heart was warmed as they spoke happily, on occasion Aneh teaching him some new thing of their land or their customs.

During the late afternoon, he asked about how they measured time; something that he had been wondering for several days. He had heard many different words used but few that were familiar to him.
 
Some of Aneh’s explanations he had worked out for himself, but others still seemed complicated to him.
 
The Elahish talked about “dawns” rather than “days”. They didn’t seem to have a week, but had “moon” for a month, and a “half moon” to divide it.

It was when coming to “years” that it became most confusing for Michael. When they spoke of their ages, Aneh said, “I have seen eighteen springs”.

“But when you spoke of Ashael last night, you talked about it being a thousand winters ago. And now you’re talking about springs. What’s the difference?” he asked.

They were both looking ahead as they spoke, careful not to fall on the loose rocks that covered the small hills they were crossing.

“When we speak of ages long ago we usually speak of summers, though not always. But for our own times, the season we name tells of our heart. I say I have seen eighteen springs because I am happy to live and to learn each day, but if my life was one of sadness, I might say I had seen eighteen winters. One who felt that their living was tiring to them might say that they had lived eighteen autumns, and one who was merely content with life eighteen summers. It is not exact, though.”

Although he knew Aneh couldn’t see, he nodded at her explanation, thinking it made some kind of sense.

Aneh then asked, “So what time has past since your birth?”

He could have answered quickly – he knew that Aneh was aware of his sad life – but he thought for a minute before saying, “As you know, I don’t know exactly how old I am, but it’s probably pretty close to your age. So, I’ll say that I have seen eighteen winters, more or less,” he risked a glance at her as he cautiously added, “but since I’ve been in Aylosia, my time with you has been like spring.”

 
As Aneh looked back at him with a smile, he tripped on a rock, having not been looking where he was going, and almost fell over. But for once, he wasn’t overly self-conscious of it, laughing along with Aneh as he regained his balance, and he thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the afternoon walk, even as the sleet slowly turned whiter and began to float down from the skies.

***

The ground was too wet for the snow to lay, and it soon stopped falling, but they raised the tents that night to keep the warmth from the heat stones from disappearing into the night sky. Michael quickly fell into a deep sleep.

He didn’t know what time it was when he was awoken with the commotion. Something in the sound of the watch-guards’ voice instantly made Michael worried, and he quickly pushed his face from his tent. The three Shosa routinely slept outside the tents of those they had claimed, and as he looked outside, he saw Peran staring intently at the forest, ears flat, before she sprung into the darkness; the other two Shosa mirroring her actions.

By now, the warriors – including the Sword and Bow Weavers – were readying themselves for fighting, an anxious tension building rapidly. Erena, the Bow Weaver, immediately began giving orders to the two archers as the three of them placed themselves strategically at the edge of the camp where the Shosa had disappeared. Meanwhile, Devu carried his sword as he directed the three remaining warriors after the cats. As they disappeared into the trees, he heard only one word distinctly: “Chet’tu”.

As the others now exited their tents, Arevu spoke, “We are not warriors, but if needs must, protect Aneh. The Healing Weaver must retain her strength.”

The knot that was tightening in Michael’s stomach slowed its twisting at hearing that, knowing at least that of all of them, Aneh would be safest. But it was only seconds later that he began hearing the hisses and growls as Chet’tu and Shosa began their fight. To his ears, it seemed no further than the battle he had witnessed a handful of dawns past, although from the cacophony that reached his ears he knew that there were more creatures this time. He remembered that a single Shosa had not been able to defeat two Chet’tu and worried that they might be outnumbered by the vicious creatures.

The feeling of fear in him intensified as screeches and yelps were added to the noise. He hoped that Peran wouldn’t get hurt, and that Devu and the others would keep the evil creatures at bay.

His worries were interrupted when Berah took large steps towards him, his face red with anger. “You!” he shouted at him, “You have brought them here!” His face was twisted with rage, spittle forming at the edges of his mouth. Drawing a secreted dagger as he grew close, he screamed, “I will end your threat to us now!”

Aneh started to run towards him. “No!”

Lohka followed, “Berah!”

But they would not get to him in time, and only their Hafashal was heard by Berah, “Cease! Not now, Berah!”