FARHAYVEN: VENGEANCE (72 page)

     Ray nodded his head to acknowledge that he understood the Receiver’s explanation, but he did not necessarily agree that things would work out this way.

     “Reject _ most of them still do of this to you,” objected Ray.

     “True, but that is their loss, not mine
!
For they must understand that this tragedy is their punishment and they deserved it. No sympathy is due to them and what little sympathy that you and I have for them is our charity and they should accept them gratefully. So for those who fail to understand this fact, they are doomed. For those who have managed to grasp this fact, there is some hope for them. This is how we differentiate between those who can be saved and those who cannot be saved,” explained the Receiver.

     “Save _ you cannot do of this to all of them
?
” asked Ray.

     “No, I cannot. No one truly has that capability. Ultimately, it is the individual who can truly save or doom himself or herself. So I lay the plan and the path and it is they who must choose to walk it. Grief or not; sorrow or not; the truth remains the truth and the sooner they face reality, the better it is for them,” answered Recipient Truthkeeper.

     “Hate _ do you realise that they would have of this towards you
?
” stressed Ray.

     “Yes, I do realise that they will hate me; but that matters not to me. I am
not
here to please them or to make them like me. As long as they see The Light, my job is done and I have completed my mission. So if they must hate me in order to see The Light, then that is the sacrifice that I am more than willing to make. However, if they reject The Light, then that is their doom. I am not responsible to save someone who wants to doom himself,” stated the Receiver.

     “Hard _ it truly is of this to be a Receiver,” conceded Ray.

     “Indeed,” ended Higher Recipient Truthkeeper, who bowed politely to Ray and proceeded to approach another grieving family.

     Ray returned the bow and moments later shook his head. He thought that it was hard to be an Elementhar, to live by The Law of Elementhars and to uphold it with his every living breath, but to be a Receiver seemed thrice as difficult. Ray had also deemed himself fortunate to have met the Receiver, for the knowledge that he had gained from these simple conversations was eye-opening to him.

     Ray proceeded to inspect the repair works that were being done by the Sollenthars. From the experience of this tragedy, Ray had decided that cross training of the different elements was now a necessity. If the Sollenthars had mastery of the Earth Element, they could repair those weakened buildings easily. But unfortunately, their mastery of Elemental Sorcery was now only at the intermediate level in the Fire Element. As far as Ray was concerned, although by Elementhar standards this was reasonable progress, but by military standards this rate of progress was deemed slow. He would have to adjust his training programme when they get back to the palace. He also came to the conclusion that he himself would have to learn and master the three remaining elements, which were Water, Wind and Mind. This could be done in part with Clover’s help, since she was a master of the Water and Wind Elements. But that left the Mind Element, which over time, Ray was confident he could discover its hidden secrets. His situation was now way beyond what was covered by The Law of Elementhars. He only hoped that he had chosen the right path and did not bring shame to the reputation of Pioneer Elementhar Nova Vanguard.

     The owls hooted endlessly, breaking the eerie silence of the
12
th
Night of Third Month of Dry Season
. Most of the townsfolk of Southgust had moved back into their homes. Only a handful of townspeople remained at the camp area where the Sollenthars were.

     Ray, Clover, Serene, Lance, Rod and Spirit sat in front of Ray’s campfire. Higher Recipient Truthkeeper strolled over to join them. Exhaustion was clearly written all over his face. He sat down in front of the warm campfire, closed his eyes and enjoyed the simple warmth that the campfire radiated. Lance looked at the Receiver and came to the conclusion that the enlightening of living beings was hard work. Perhaps it would not be so hard if humans were not so stubborn or disinterested. But the unfortunate fact was that humans
were
indeed stubborn and disinterested. Spirit was now lying on his chest, staring blankly into the flickering flames, watching its gentle dance and dreaming away.

     Suddenly, a curious thought occurred in Lance’s mind.

     “Soul _ Higher Recipient, can a person’s of it still be salvaged if it has been converted by a demon
?
” he asked.

     “This is a difficult question to answer. Theoretically, it is possible although it would be extremely difficult. When a Primary or even a Secondary Demon converts a person or an animal, it does so by infusing a little of its evil soul energy into the subject’s soul and contaminating it. The contamination grows and then engulfs the entire soul with its evilness and the transformation would then be complete. However, the core of the subject’s soul, or mind, can never be truly contaminated or conquered or converted. This is why, although demons are evil, they are evil in different ways and of varied intensity. If the subject’s mind is strong enough and so chooses to be good, it is possible for it to fight the contamination and control it to a certain degree. So a subject can recover from such a contamination but will never be fully cured. But if the core of the soul gives up and surrenders to the contamination, then all hope is lost. If this is the case, then the subject becomes nothing but a puppet animated by evil energy,” answered the Receiver.

     “Different _ how is it of this from possession
?
” asked Serene.

     “Possession is different because in possession, the evil soul tries to take over the body of the subject and imprison the subject’s soul instead of contaminating it. A full recovery is possible, because the soul is still pure and uncontaminated,” explained Higher Recipient Truthkeeper.

     Serene nodded her head. Lance, meanwhile, had a blank look on his face.

     “Contamination _ of this, how do we treat it
?
” asked Ray, his curiosity now sparked.

     “There is not much we can do except to preach and preach and preach until the core of the soul sees The Light and truly chooses to be Good. Then it is entirely up to the core of the soul to fight the contamination. There is nothing else we can do. The likelihood of recovery is extremely slim,” answered the Receiver.

     “Recover _ has anyone done of this before from a conversion or contamination
?
” asked Rod.

     “We do not have any records to indicate that such a recovery has ever occurred, therefore this topic is just highly theoretical,” responded the Receiver.

     Lance already knew the answer to the next question that he was about to ask, but he had to ask anyway, partly out of desperation and mainly just to be sure.

     “Killed _ if a person has been of this due to a demon attack, is there any way to bring them back to life
?
” he asked.

     “No. There is no way to reverse death of any kind,” stressed Higher Recipient Truthkeeper, shaking his head.

     Lance looked to the ground and nodded his head.

     Suddenly, a brilliant flash cut across the dark heavens and a terrible rumble followed. Ray looked up. So did the others.

     “Rain _ this of it will fall soon and will fall hard tonight, so let us all settle-in before we are drenched,” said Ray.

     The rest nodded in agreement and left. The first burst of tears from the heavens fell only but a few moments later, and was followed by a massive downpour quite untypical of the Dry Season. Strong gusting winds rammed against the canvas surface of the Sollenthars’ tents, threatening to blow them away; but the tents held firm.

     Another flash cut across the skies. The crack of thunder followed. Thorn Sayvion’s body shivered as the countless teardrops from the heavens struck it. This was a concern for him. This meant that his body had deteriorated significantly. The open horse-drawn cart that carried him sped up on the bumpy, wet road. Seven or more similar carts followed closely behind carrying large wooden boxes. Armed horsemen rode in front of and to the rear of these carts, no doubt to keep the prisoners in check rather than to protect any precious cargo.

     Thorn looked at his shackled hands and feet. He knew that if he jumped off the vehicle, he would not be able to run. There was no point in attempting escape. Not yet
!
There was something he was waiting for. Something he needed to find out. But he had to do it subtly. Then the opportunity arose.

     “Enjoying the weather, are you
,
Fallsian slave
!?
” asked the fat Serpentian overseer who sat at the front of the cart.

     There were a dozen other prisoners in the same cart, but everybody knew that the question was meant for Thorn.

     “Yes, Fightlord Forktongue, I am.  I live to serve the Kingdom of Serpentia,” replied Thorn Sayvion.

     Fightlord Forktongue let out a snigger and then gave Thorn a mock expression of compassion.

     “But you’re trembling, my friend. Surely the mighty Thorn Sayvion fears not a few drops of water
?
” Fightlord Forktongue said sarcastically.

     “I tremble in awe of Serpentian power, sir. I live to serve the Kingdom of Serpentia. It is with the greatest pleasure that I work in the prison-mines. During the day, I smash rocks for exercise and during occasional nights like this, I get a free tour of Serpentia while transporting processed iron bars. Who else gets such wonderful benefits
?
” replied Thorn artificially.

     Fightlord Forktongue laughed out loud.

     “Yes, you’re right. Better than working at the crop-fields like those weaklings, isn’t it
?
Although if you were an attractive female, you might find life at the pleasure-houses of Coil City a little more interesting,” he pointed out to Thorn.

     “Unfortunately, sir, I am not. But if I were, I would be glad to serve in the pleasure-houses of Coil City. I am sure the Fallsian women there served you well, sir. A great variety of physical features to choose from, I gather,” replied Thorn.

     “Oh, they serve me fine, though I’d prefer Battlelord Constrictor’s private harem. That’s where you’ll find the most gorgeous ones,” explained the fat Serpentian overseer.

     The conversion was beginning to work to Thorn’s advantage. He needed to keep the fat Serpentian talking.

     “But surely, the other Battlelords have harems too
?
” he asked.

     “They do, slave. But nothing compares to the one that Battlelord Constrictor has. You see, slave, your Fallsian women are the most attractive in all of Farhayven, which is why we raid your kingdom so often. And our rules are such that the main spoils of war always go to the leader of the raiding force and he’ll always be allowed the first picks; and since none of the other Battlelords have raided your home recently that means that Battlelord Constrictor has the best harem for the time being. He, Battlelord Constrictor, has good taste so you can be sure he would’ve picked the best looking ones for himself. King Fangstrike would’ve gotten a few of the pretty ones, too. Then the other Battlelords would’ve gotten their pick.  The rest, pretty or not, went to the pleasure houses throughout Serpentia. Such a beautiful system we have, eh
?
Don’t you think so, slave
?
” explained Fightlord Forktongue.

     “Indeed, sir, I live in awe of the Kingdom of Serpentia,” Thorn replied artificially.

     Clearly to Thorn, Evil has an ego the size of a mountain, judging by how Fightlord Forktongue behaved. But, finally he knew where to look. Finally he knew where to search. Finally he knew where she was, Caramel Verance, whom he had sworn to protect but had failed to do so. Now he knew how to redeem himself. And Thorn Sayvion afforded himself a small, almost hidden smile as he sat shivering in an open horse-drawn cart which was speeding along in the cold, heavy rain.

     It was truly dark and wet indeed on this night. Heavy raindrops splattered against its leathery skin. Strong gusty winds ruined the stability of its flight path. The obscured night sky made the darkness too intense, even for its eyes. But the hunger within it yearned for the soul and flesh of humans. Its red eyes scanned the grounds below. Then its nose caught the stench of death and grief, the death and grief of the disaster-struck town of Southgust.

     The winds had died down a bit, enabling it to soar more gracefully. An evil smile cut across its pale human-like face. It flexed its muscular light-brown body which was one and a half times taller and larger than the average human and was supported in-flight by a pair of huge, black, eagle-like wings. It wore a black shirt and pants to enable it to blend into the dark night sky. As the secondary demon known as Lord Deathwings soared towards Southgust, it heard the gentle sound of a lullaby being sung and its mind drifted back to when it all began for it. It was 750 years ago on a night much like this that its baby could not sleep and had caused its wife to sing the exact same lullaby. Back then, Lord Deathwings was a human merchant by the name of Silver Grambune.