Whisk.
Whisk.
Whisk.
He would not give in, no matter what he witnessed. Perseverance in the face of his doubts. Strength to conquer any weakness. He would prevail.
“Finally,” a voice unimaginably smooth and cold said, “finally, the Aegis’ last piece.”
Ancel opened his eyes.
The silver of the zyphyl extended itself to him. A huge bulbous form pushed out from the center of the silver mass. A single eye opened like dancing flames. It spoke.
“A cycle passes in the Planes of If,
A curse and a gift, the creator’s bane walks the land,
Stretching through time, he reaches his hand,
For any who can right the seeds gone wrong,
Streams of light singing a dark song,
Forms of the land open a path,
Flows fill an empty void,
Finally together as one the three who they dread,
Two thought dead, one willfully misled,
Heralding the end of the era when gods lay slain
Materium wielded and waste lain
Resurrection lies within both life and death,
The time when all breathes a last breath
The world battered to a dying husk,
All in the name of the Nine’s lust,
Yet hope dwells within the Entosis,
Guarded and kept by the blood of the Aegis
Through destiny’s doors
And from within a temple’s floors
It begins and ends with Etchings.”
“What … what are you,” Ancel managed.
“Ah,” the zyphyl said. Ancel could imagine the thing smiling. “One who asks the right questions.” The eye turned. “I am but one who stands between many worlds, a keeper of time, a bringer of dreams,”
“Nightmares are more like it,” Ancel said dryly.
“Yours are more volatile than most, but so … so …,” the eye turned, “fulfilling.”
“Why me? Why show me the things you did?”
“It is in your blood. You, more than most others, have manifested a power deep within what makes you. Eztezian. Netherling. ‘Tis a coupling not seen before. One thought not possible.”
“Are you saying my parents aren’t Stefan and Thania?”
The eye shifted, rotating right to left. “Of course, they are.”
“But you said … Never mind. What you showed me. Was it real? Was it true?”
“It is all real, all relevant. Maybe not to your time and place but in another. It is all choice. You chose well.”
“You said I’m the last part of the Aegis. What is it?”
The eye did a full rotation. “A concept, a power, an idea, a shield, a person, many persons, you, your brother, your sister, Irmina, your mother, your father, the gods, the world.”
Confused, Ancel frowned.
“Man must have faith. A belief. You have it in you. Many have preyed on that weakness. Man must have power. They crave it. The sentient creatures of all the worlds crave power. There are those who will upset balance for such. The gods have forgotten that which they were created to do. This world leans toward chaos. When the Annendin returns to reclaim the gods, he will see their failure. The world will be scoured. But man must have faith. You have it in you. So do many others.”
“Faith in the gods? In the Annendin?”
“In yourself. Follow the paths you believe are true. The answers will come.”
“Will I find the ones to save the world?”
“This world as you know it is doomed.”
“So what’s the point?”
“The world is so much more than the land, Ancel.”
Ancel stopped, his mind searching for answers. “It’s the people.”
“Ah.”
“Can I save them?”
“No one person can do so. There is no one savior. Yet-”
“Man must have faith.” Ancel understood now. “I must give it to them. Hope. Hope is what they require.”
“As the world must have harmony. I gave you the keys. Follow the path.”
Hands dragged at Ancel before he could ask another question. Cold to the touch, a substance covered his body and face. When his head came free, he saw Ryne and Galiana pulling him away from the zyphyl’s silvery embrace.
He didn’t remember much of the dreams he had inside, but the conversation was as clear as the blue skies above until darkness folded him in its grasp.
Chapter 46
Galiana sat in a lavishly furnished room provided by King Tozian, Torandil’s ruler, at her request. The room smelled of whatever flowery musk the Dosteri used to freshen their carpets. She studied Ancel’s prone form. She’d fed him kinai. All she could do now was wait. Almost a full day inside the Travelshaft had equated to a week in time on the outside, and a distance covered that would have taken two months. If not for what happened with Ancel it would have taken a day on the outside. Still, what should have been impossible, Halvor had made probable by refining the balance between the zyphyl and the Forms. But at what cost?
She’d never seen a zyphyl physically latch onto someone. People lost themselves to the visions long before they made it to the exit. To have one of the creatures try to hold onto Ancel was more than troubling. It was frightening. What had it shown him?
Ever since the occurrence, Ryne had become more agitated. He and Mirza waited outside the room with Ancel’s Pathfinders. Charra would have none of it, insisting to be close to his master. She still regretted not being able to question Ancel about the beast. But so far, Charra posed no threat, and its intentions were for Ancel’s well-being. That wasn’t good enough for her considering what it had done to the Quintess and the others, but for now it would have to do.
Her thoughts drifted to Irmina and Eldanhill’s refugees. She hoped Irmina managed to convince the Exalted to spare the lives of the council members. The refugees were of a greater concern. Neither they nor Kachien had made it to Torandil yet. They were several weeks late. Nothing good that she could think of would have caused such a delay.
Added to that dilemma was Jillian’s disappearance. According to the other elders, she’d been gone for months, supposedly researching stories of shadelings somewhere to the north. The woman’s absence worried her, considering what they were about to face. They could use Jillian’s input and her eagles. Why the woman would disobey her orders and leave the planning for their trip from Torandil in someone else’s hands was not acceptable.
Galiana stood and walked over to one of the large windows looking out onto the city. Considered an architectural wonder by many, Torandil sat at the edge of the Hallowed Cliffs, overlooking Bluewater Bay and the many islands and ships dotting its surface. Black basalt, sandstone, bloodstone, and feldspar mixed in with cobalt made up the ordered buildings within the city. Sunlight reflected from them in a myriad of colors that never failed to leave her breathless. She stared across to where the bay’s water caressed the sky, one melding into the other like entwined lovers.
Beyond that horizon lay Ostania, Seti, and the city of Benez. Beyond that horizon was a new beginning. One begun by bloodshed and would end in more before it was done. But it was a beginning nonetheless.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Enter.”
Jerem strode in quickly followed by Ryne. White hair sprinkled with silver strands, Jerem appeared almost emaciated beneath his silver robes. Events had to be taking a great toll on him, yet, he still had a light step to his walk.
“We have a problem,” Jerem said.
“Well, good day to you too,” she replied.
“No time for niceties. We’ve been betrayed.”
She frowned. “By who?”
“Kachien. She’s taken the refugees to Randane.”
A chill eased down Galiana’s spine to match her mounting consternation. “Why Randane?”