The Spirit of Revenge (32 page)

The ship escaped the mountains’ clutches at last and came out into a dazzling sea of light.

Hundreds of thousands of stars filled the dark void above, their pallid lights shimmering against fleeting wisps of clouds. A thin sliver of moon hung in a heavenly embrace, its light glistening against the mirror of snow that covered the fields around them for miles in every direction.

The Warriors stood side-by-side, gazing over the beauty before them. They whispered amongst themselves, averse to break the heavy silence that now filled the transport.

“Get some sleep, Warriors,” The captain advised as he approached. “You have a long road ahead of you; you will need your strength.”

The group descended the flight of stairs leading to the main deck and approached their bags and weapons lying abandoned against the railing.

“I never did like ships…” Joshua muttered as he clenched his gut. He sat down, sighed heavily, and threw his head into the side of his rucksack. “I’d rather have my horse.”

Silas smirked at this. “You hate horses too.”

Joshua shrugged and closed his eyes. “Point taken…”

Several days passed as they followed the Alar, cutting its way through Erias’s vast wilderness, snaking through the endless fields, forests, and mountains of the east.

As the sixth night faded into embryonic dawn, snow gradually turned to barren rock, mountains and hills to flattened fields. Another day dragged on as the land continued to morph and the sun slipped beneath distant pearly peaks.

“Warriors,” a voice muttered from the darkness, “wake up.” The captain nudged them, forcing them from their slumber. They stood up wearily and glanced around the shadowed deck.

Many of the soldiers were sprawled across the transport, a light snore rising from the deck. The soft glow of torches flickered in the darkness, casting their feeble lights over the water. Dark masses encircled the ship on both sides of the river and the Warriors’ eyes drew instantly to them.

“We are here,” Malecai informed the others. He leaned against the railing and stared intently through the darkness. The torchlight revealed the towering walls of Nimithy Valley.

“The open arms of Atuan welcome you,” the captain said to the group.

The surrounding mountains towered over the land, blotting out the lights of the distant stars and moon. The torchlight glowed faintly off the leaves of strange trees, their gray, thorny fronds blanketing the valley walls in thick, clustered masses. Their branches hung low over the water, brushing against the ship’s sides as it passed.

“This river valley is one of the only fertile areas in all of Atuan,” Malecai informed the group. “Look zealously upon these trees; they are the last you will see for many days.”

The captain nodded. “We’ll come to the end within the next few hours.” At this, he left and returned up the stairs.

Joshua and Silas left the group and walked back to their bags. “Isroc,” Silas called, “let’s play a hand before we leave.” He held up a bundle of tattered cards and waved them enticingly before his friend.

“I don’t gamble,” Isroc replied with a disinterested glance over his shoulder.

“Trust me, you will.” Silas tossed the deck at Isroc. Isroc held out a hand grudgingly and caught the cards. “One hand…” Silas tempted once more.

“One then,” Isroc muttered as he looked down at the cards in his hands before following the others towards their bags.

Malecai slouched over the railing and bowed his head.

“You’ve been to Atuan before haven’t you?” Cain asked.

“Aye,” he replied with a heavy sigh, “many times…”

“What were you doing here?”

“I am a restless soul…I wander to appease my conscience, my heart and mind. That was what I was doing, nothing…and yet, everything.”

“So then what-”

“You ask too many questions…if I wished to answer them, then I already would have.”

Adriel laughed with amusement from beside the two men. “Believe me, Malecai, I’ve told him that many times. It’s a lost cause.”

Cain hung his head until they finished laughing. They soon fell silent and watched over the orange glow of the torches that rippled in the waters below. Hours passed as the faint laughter and cries of the gambling men filled the silent night.

The mountains parted and the star-studded skies at last fell from the valley’s dark hold. The ship continued down the river, the Nimithy Valley falling to darkness behind the churning waters of the transport.

“This is as far as we can go,” the captain said as he approached the Warriors. “We’ll have to drop you off here. Release the gangplank!”

Several men rushed to the middle of the deck and disappeared down a flight of steps to the inner bowels of the ship, soon reappearing with a long, wooden plank in hand.

The Warriors shouldered their rucksacks and strapped on their armor and weapons as the soldiers dropped the gangplank.

“We will wait for your return at the mouth of the valley,” the captain said as he shook their hands and gestured for them to leave the ship. The soldiers saluted as they walked by and stopped at the head of the gangplank.

“Good luck, Warriors,” the captain replied with a crisp salute. The Warriors nodded and descended the gangplank. Their boots soon touched down on the sands of the Eastern Desert, sinking into the near fluid-like earth.

“Follow,” Malecai ordered and stepped into the cold and silent darkness. The others followed him, leaving the glow of the torches behind. The transport soon slipped into shadow and the Warriors continued into blackness. The Warriors walked in silence. Not a noise graced their ears save the chatter of distant insects and the shifting of the sands beneath their boots.

The starlight revealed to them a world of barren solemnity, an isolated and dismal world, void of life and all compassion. No vegetation, no mountain peaks, nothing but an endless expanse of rock and sand.

The air hung heavy around them, a numbing cold that left their cloaks useless against their skin. The Eastern Desert surrounded them on all sides, an unforgiving and barren wasteland.

“Why would you have ever come here?” Aaron asked Malecai.

“I have my motives…much like we do for being here now.”

“Don’t bother, he won’t answer your questions, Aaron,” Cain warned.

“I will when I deem it necessary,” Malecai retorted, “but now is not the time. Your focus should be on our task, not inventing questions to gratify your curiosity.”

His riposte silenced the group and they continued into the strange world of Atuan.

Thin beads of light crept over the distant horizon, illuminating what once was hidden with brilliant azure. The sun soon crawled from the dawn, its warm rays of light reaching fast over the land.

The Warriors continued through the ever-warming sands, the cool air around them snuffed under the potency of the sun.

Malecai flicked his shoulder, sending his cloak off his back before catching it. The Warriors followed likewise and removed the cloaks from their backs.

The air grew warmer with every step they took. Their once cool skin now instantly brought to a sweat as the sun filled the skies. The heat grew and grew, rising ever-in intensity.

They walked on through the heat that now simmered against their skin and set their very armor ablaze. Silas and Joshua began removing their steel encasements.

“You could remove your armor,” Malecai said, “but it will do you no good. You will still have to carry it.”

“I’ll do as I please,” Joshua retorted and removed his breastplate. Malecai shrugged at him and turned back to the sands before them. Silas glanced uneasily at the two of them and tightened the strap of his pauldron.

A vast sea of barren sand and stone surrounded them from every side. Hundreds of mountains encompassed the edges of the earth, their lofty spires mere shadows amidst the sea of gold that spread over the earth like a godly parchment. The sun hung high over the desert sands, its fierce heat blaring down on the travelers.

“How far until Izadon?” Cain asked as he raised his water skin to his lips.

“Izadon is a few more days east from this point. I have traveled this route many times; we will be at the capital soon.” He fell quiet and gestured for the others to follow.

The stars shone bright over the desert sands below, the flowing dunes rippling with a silver intensity. The Warriors were encamped at the foot of a dune, enclosed by a cluster of large stones. They sat in silence around a fire and gnawed on the venison they could finally cook.

Malecai stopped eating and looked into the fire for several moments. He dropped his meal atop his rucksack and stood up.

“I think all of you should know some things…” The group looked up at him questioningly. “Your constant questioning of Abaddon’s immortality has led me to believe you are as clueless as the rest of Tarsha.”

“And you know something we don’t?” Cain asked, slightly irked.

“Yes, I do. But do not worry, most of Tarsha does not know what I am about to tell you. The stories say that Abaddon was granted immortality by the Forgotten. That however, is only half the story.”

“There’s more to the story?” Aaron asked. “Armeth told us everything.”

Malecai sighed at this. “You know so little of the truth. If you are to be the saviors that Tarsha believes you to be, then you must truly know your enemy. You cannot fight an enemy you know nothing about, simply because you are told to do so.”

“Sure we can,” Joshua grunted, “we’ve done it for four hundred years.”

Isroc nodded. “Joshua’s right. No one really knows much about him. No one has even seen him. We fight because if we do not, then we all die. That’s all I need to know.”

Malecai shook his head. “Death becomes of ignorance. Do not blindly follow where your feet lead.”

“Malecai has a point,” Aaron said, “and if he knows something about Abaddon that we don’t, then I say we hear him out.” The group fell quiet and turned to Malecai.

“Very well,” Malecai began. “In the light that converted the captain of Erias to the demon, Abaddon, a sword was forged for him. It would come to be known as Ceerocai, the greatest legend ever told. It was a physical means for him to assert his god-given power, and through this sword, his strength was endless.

‘He removed his soul from its mortal prison and sealed it within this weapon. In doing so, he cast aside his humanity, the only weakness remaining to him. All emotion, all love, all weakness, all that makes us human…forever lost to him. He was divinity incarnate, and with the sword given to him by the Forgotten, he was a god among men.

‘The sword gave him immeasurable power, for he could call upon his soul within the blade, and it would fight alongside him in the form of a great, crimson beast. Of course, this was not the only power the sword could muster. It could release the very bowels of hell upon the earth and reap the souls of wanton men.

‘However, his godliness would be short lived, for Ivandar, the son of the slain king of Erias and brother of the famous Jocelyn, would gather the forces of Tarsha under the banner of Alliance. He marched upon the stronghold of Andred, four hundred thousand strong. A great battle ensued, but under the infinite armies of Andred and Abaddon himself, the Alliance was ultimately defeated.