First Comes The One Who Wanders (24 page)

After waiting for what seemed like hours, Leilas reached down and touched the body again, this time trying to determine who this warrior might be. Letting her fingers glide over the breastplate, she felt for any emblems that might be there, but there were none. Then she moved her hand to his neck, looking for any identifying insignia. She took the pin holding his cloak and examined it blindly, attempting to let a picture grow in her mind. It seemed to be a cresting wave. Here was a master of Sea, a very long way from home.

"I suppose you got lost down here, too," said Leilas to the lifeless body. "May the Creator keep you." Tucking the symbol of mastery into her tunic, she continued her search of the body. There was no food or drink. She hadn’t really expected to find any. Still, he had a sword and an axe. The breastplate was too large as was the helmet. But the cloak was usable. Hesitating briefly, she took out the golden crest and secured the cloak around her shoulders.

"Thank you for these gifts," she whispered to the dead master. Then moving the body out of the pathway as best she could, she knelt and began chanting the death song for him. It was all she could do for him in this place.

When she finished the prayer, she slung the sword over her shoulders so it rested on her back and carried the battleaxe in her hand. It was a better choice than the short sword and not as heavy as the long sword. Both weapons felt to be of decent quality and had some sort of engraving on them. But Leilas couldn’t make out what it symbolized. Shaking the water skin, she decided against a drink and began her slow way down the passage.

I probably could light the way for a bit, she thought as she shuffled along using the damp wall as a guide. If anyone was near, they'd have been here by now. She’d almost convinced herself it would be okay for a while, just until the cloying fear that was beginning to gnaw at her subsided, when she felt the low, throbbing vibration of some sort of machinery. Swallowing thickly with fear, she stopped, frozen to the spot.

Gathering her courage and trying to shake off the fear, Leilas took a better grip on the battleaxe and began to move forward, toward the noise. Whatever it was, it had to be better than the endless, dark tunnel burrowing downward.

Rounding a bend, Leilas stopped suddenly, blinking her eyes at the light that assaulted them. It was a dim, orange glow coming from the same direction as the vibration, but after the complete darkness it was blinding. She had no idea how long she’d been in this tunnel, or how far she’d come. She didn’t even know what direction she’d been traveling. It wasn’t beyond possibility she'd gone in a complete circle and ended up back at the great hall. Although, she had to admit this didn’t look like the entrance to that chamber.

Hugging the wall, she moved forward, readying herself for confrontation. But she reached the source of the light without meeting anyone. Perhaps this was too far within the boundaries of Crysalis for anyone to be concerned about unwelcome guests.

If the comrade she'd left behind in the corridor was an indication, she was inclined to believe that was the truth. Otherwise, why would his body still have been lying in the tunnel? Wondering again, how he’d ended up in that passageway, she stepped into the lighted cavern. It was too late to retreat from the magical trap that was tripped as she stepped over the threshold. Swinging her axe to the ready, Leilas turned to face the goblins that sprang out of the walls. There weren’t any doors that she could see, but she didn’t have time to look. Ten dark, ugly creatures were encircling her, intent on killing her. Choosing the closest enemy, Leilas took a swing and caught him in the chest. Wrenching her axe free, she turned ninety degrees and dispatched the next goblin with a backhanded stroke. The group had reached her now and she began swinging the axe back and forth hitting whoever came within reach as she pushed through the group to find a more strategic position to defend.

Positioning herself with her back against the dais in the middle of the room from where the vibration seemed to be originating, Leilas assessed the situation. Two goblins had gone down, five had wounds; that left three whole. Swinging her axe in a double arc, Leilas waited for them to make the first move, taking the opportunity to catch her breath. With a yell, the eight began the assault again. They approached more cautiously this time. Leilas ignored the urge to meet them halfway. She'd chosen this spot to fight. This was where she would fight.

Her axe cleanly cut off the head of the goblin who reached her first. The second caught the back swing full in the chest. His screech echoed in the cavern as he fell to the ground. Leilas was aware that some of their blows had connected but she continued to fight. The next to attack caught her axe in his thigh. Dark blood began to spout and he began to scream. Finishing him with a blow to the head, Leilas turned to face the remaining three, panting with exhaustion. Taking a step up onto the dais to give herself more room, Leilas watched as the last three enemies disappeared as quickly as they'd appeared. Not even the bodies of the dead remained. Only the wounds she’d received bore evidence of the fight and the inevitable darkness swirling around her.

"Interesting," was all she managed to say as she sank down to her knees and tried to catch her breath. After a few moments rest, she examined her wounds. None of them appeared to need immediate attention. None of these goblins had been crafters. The wounds would heal quickly. Using her axe to help, Leilas regained her feet and took a look around the room from her perch on the platform as she indulged in three mouthfuls of water and a quarter of the bread she had left. She wasn’t quite ready to test the theory that the enemies would return as soon as she stepped down. She was safe enough here it seemed, for now. The vibration had stopped as soon as she'd stepped on the dais, as well. Whatever caused the vibration, seemed to be the source of this room’s protection. Intrigued as she was to figure out the workings of this trap, she was too tired to investigate. Instead, she looked around the now empty room.

The walls of the cavern were covered in pictures and the dim, orange glow came from lamps in sconces on the wall that seemed to be lit from some unknown source. From the dust covering the dais and the lack of footprints anywhere other than where she'd fought, it was clear no one had been down in this room for years. So how long had her master of Sea been lying in the corridor, she mused to herself? He hadn’t just been bone. It didn’t make sense. Maybe it would make more sense after some sleep. Too tired to do more than lean against the podium on the stage she closed her eyes and dropped into a dreamless sleep.

A rumbling in her stomach woke her. Everything appeared exactly as it had when she'd fallen asleep except the light seemed to be slightly dimmer. Indulging in another mouthful of water, she ignored the protests of her stomach. There wasn’t much bread left.

Now that she was rested, Leilas studied the murals on the walls. It took several minutes to find the beginning of the story. The first panel was a scene of a council meeting. It took Leilas a few minutes to recognize it as the masters of Sky. The council chamber was half in ruins. What had once been a beautiful chamber was now a darkened hull. In the center of the circle of masters stood a figure in blue with golden hair, Leilas couldn’t help but think of Master Frey. Could this mural be depicting him before the council? She was too far away to study the intricate details and she wasn’t willing to restart the battle with the protectors of this place, just yet. But how could these pictures, which clearly had been here for countless years, be showing Master Frey?

"Idiot," said Leilas out loud. "He's been around for who knows how long. Besides," she continued to herself, "the fact that it looks like Master Frey doesn’t make it him. And it doesn’t have to be a story from the past. It could be a prediction of the future."

The last time she’d seen the council chamber it wasn’t in ruins. No one had ever talked about it having been destroyed in the past. That fact seemed to indicate this was a scene from a future someone had seen.

For the first time since she'd left Dirth, Leilas thought about the battle that had taken place there. Her family and Joshuas had left before the dark crafters had attacked the school. Could the dark crafters have done this to the School of Sky? Hadn’t Brenth said something about it no longer existing? Leilas tried to remember what he had said, but the memory was blurred because she'd been under the influence of the dark crafter poison. If that was what Brenth said, this picture could be portraying events that were happening now. Leilas looked at the ruined council chambers with sadness. Was that all that remained?

She moved on to the second mural with her interest piqued. If this was a vision of present events, and she could understand it, maybe she could do something with the information to affect whatever event it was depicting.

"Slow down there, girl," she said to herself. Did she really think she could affect events that had been set in motion by the Creator? Because she was beginning to understand this was bigger than Preterlandis. She laughed at her arrogance and began to study the second mural.

In this picture, a small army was assembled in a courtyard. Now the man in blue with the golden hair was mounted on a black stallion in front of the band of soldiers. No, not soldiers, Leilas corrected herself. He was leading Sky crafters. In front, with the man in blue, was an officer. So, this was more than a guard for the crafter, they were planning on a battle.

The third mural showed this small army, led by the man in blue and the officer, facing a force of Land crafters. At least, that was what she thought was being depicted. "Blood and guts," she said aloud. "I wish I could get closer." For a moment, she was tempted to try. But the ache in her arms and the pain from her wounds told her she needed to wait until her natural healing powers had had a little more time to work, just in case the protectors of this place reappeared. The thought that she was marooning herself on this platform unnecessarily crossed her mind again. These creatures couldn’t kill her. They could only slow her down unless there was more here than she knew. The crafter in the hall came back to mind. Something had killed him. Leilas reluctantly decided to err on the side of caution.

The armies faced each other from opposite hills, a valley separating them. Behind the dark crafters rose a building completely enclosed by white pillars rising twenty lengths into the air to support the roof. The building looked familiar and Leilas tried to remember where she’d seen it before.

In the next panel, the two armies were locked in battle. Many crafters lay dead. Even from this distance, Leilas could see the red tint painted into the ground. There was a speck of blue and gold in the center of the picture. This master, whoever he was, seemed driven to succeed in whatever quest he'd begun.

The battle moved on in the picture that followed. Now the armies were on the hill by the building. The Land crafters had broken ranks and were in retreat. The Sky crafters, rather than letting them go, as was customary, were chasing them down. Leilas frowned at the implication. Something wasn't right. If they continued on this course, the balance would be lost. They had to know this, they were all crafters. So why didn’t they stop? They didn’t stop because the man in blue was still urging them forward. Why? Again, answers she didn’t have.

Moving on, Leilas ignored the fact that the light seemed to be growing dimmer and let the walls tell their story. The building had been breached in the next picture. Sky crafters were in a library scattering the books everywhere. Random destruction, wondered Leilas, and then decided it wasn't random. They were looking for something. A flicker of memory came to her, in the mists, pillars, Master Frey, a book. Her vision was part of this story. The man in blue was Master Frey. What was so important about this book that he'd risk the future of Preterlandis for it? Nothing could be that important, thought Leilas.

The next part of the story was portrayed by a picture of the library beginning to collapse. There were many Sky crafters trapped by the falling stone. Many were running, trying to escape. In the midst of all this, Master Frey stood holding the book in the air triumphantly. The scene she'd seen before. This vision was what precipitated the events of the last–, how long had it been? It felt like a thousand years to Leilas. She'd lost all sense of time in Neothera. It was easier to understand now, why Joshuas felt he was too old to be dealing with a child like her. She wondered what he would think of her now.

"Probably still think I’m more trouble than I’m worth," said Leilas with a pang of regret. Somewhere deep inside, she knew Joshuas was her soul-mate. But unfortunately, soul-mates didn’t always end up together.

With a sigh, Leilas put that thought out of her mind and got back to the task at hand. The story continued around the circle. As the remaining Sky crafters moved away from the collapsing library, back toward their encampment, demon-like men watched from the ruins. The same masters she'd seen in the great hall. It was clear they'd caused the collapse of the library and the death of so many crafters. Still, they'd been too late to keep Master Frey from claiming his prize. What was so special about that book that Master Frey would risk so much to obtain it? Countless lives had been lost, plus a shift had occurred in the balance. It was a question the Chidra needed answered. The title was becoming more comfortable, even if the responsibility wasn’t.

As the crafters packed up the encampment, clouds of darkness were gathering. Lightning lit the bottom of the clouds like gold. None of the Sky crafters looked back to see one of the Land masters invoking some dark spell with his fist clenched in fury in the air. Had they looked, it would have been difficult to mistake the meaning.