Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One (16 page)

Ruairi drank in the opulence of the room and
the splendor of his clothes, delighting in the beauty of his hands
and the peace within his once tormented soul. For a moment the
overwhelming desire for it threatened to turn him from the task he
had come to do. He shook his head determinedly. “I wish to save
Kerrik.”

“So you would give up eternal happiness in
the place of your dreams to go back and save this child.”

“Yes.”

The woman walked slowly to him and cupped his
chin in her hand. “Few before you have chosen to go back, though
all came with every intention of doing so. Some of their reasons
were not powerful enough. But yours is pure, my boy, and for that
you shall receive what you have come for.”

Ruairi breathed a great sigh, then eyed her
with suspicion. “You still have not told me who you are.”

“I am Agneis,” the woman said
matter-of-factly.

“Agneis? But, you do not…look…like…”

“What you expected?” She laughed softly. “You
have been sorely misled, my dear boy. It seems your priestess, as
well as all those before her, claims to represent me when, in fact,
she represents something far darker. But her time will come.” She
studied his face for a moment. “Perhaps you will be the one to
bring it to her.”

Ruairi threw himself to his knees and bowed
his head to the hem of her gown. “Forgive me, Goddess, for my
insolence. I am not worthy of your kindness. Please—”

“Rise, boy…rise. I require no groveling. I
know your heart well enough. But if it gives you comfort, your
insolence is forgiven.” She smiled and placed her hand on his
head.

Reiv rose and stood before her, a million
questions flooding his mind. “Why has it always been that we
worship you through the Priestess when she has loyalty to
another?”

“You will learn in time.”

“In time…” he echoed softly. “Goddess, you
said my body is dead, and it seems as if I have been here a very
long time. How can I hope to return?”

“Time in your world is a flicker on the sea
of eternity. While it may seem to you that you have been here for a
long while, it has only been a blink of an eye since the heart of
your body stopped.” She moved toward the window and motioned him
over. “Come, tell me what you see.”

Ruairi walked over hesitantly and stood
beside her to gaze out at the landscape. No longer did he see
pastel hills and patterned fields; now he saw a vast meadow covered
in a sea of white flowers and bright green grasses.

“Why, it is a meadow of flowers,” he replied,
his voice reflecting the happy surprise he felt at the sight of
it.

“What else?”

“What else? There…a girl in a long
dress…walking through the meadow, gathering flowers.” He leaned out
the window and focused his gaze on the distant image of her. “Her
hair is dark. She is very beautiful.”

“Do you know her?”

He swallowed hard and leaned back. “Yes, I
know her.” He turned his eyes to Agneis. “Why is she here? Why have
you brought her to this place? She is not dead…tell me she is
not.”

“No, she is an illusion,” Agneis replied.

“Then you are trying to trick me into staying
with the hope of her!”

“No, Ruairi, you have come for knowledge and
you shall receive it.”

He refocused his attention on the meadow,
then realized he was no longer standing at the window, but in the
midst of an eternal sea of white petals and pastel grasses. The
flowers around him danced to the rhythm of the breeze, and the
sweet fragrance of the meadow ignited his senses. He closed his
eyes and turned his face to the sun, feeling the warmth of it
caress his cheek like a mother to a child, a feeling he had so
often longed for. This was truly paradise, not the stuffy confines
of a princely room. He opened his eyes and his heart raced. The
dark-haired girl was standing near, smiling at him. Her long black
hair was plaited down her back, and she wore a dress of gold, the
long full skirt of it covered with hundreds of tiny white flowers.
She motioned him forward.

“Alicine,” he whispered, and stepped toward
her.

She lifted the flowers in her hand and nodded
her head to them. Ruairi studied them with curiosity, then moved
his eyes to hers. His heart filled with longing, and he stepped
closer to her, but a powerful sensation took sudden hold of him,
jerking him back.

A roar of voices struck his ears like
thunder, and he looked to the sky that had turned dark and ominous.
The ground trembled violently, threatening to send his legs out
from under him. He reached out to Alicine, but she was gone,
vanished into a vapor amongst a blurring image of wilting flowers.
The once gentle breeze stilled. Petals curled into dark clumps as a
blanket of heat descended upon them.

The voices became deafening. Ruairi covered
his ears with his palms, but it did little good. People surrounded
him, running and screaming, pushing and shoving. Flames licked at
their feet from fissures in the earth. Boulders rained from the sky
in torrents of crushing weight. He fell to the ground, shaking so
fiercely he felt sure his body would break into pieces. Then,
through the roar, he heard a single voice, a familiar voice. He sat
up and searched the blinding dust and clamoring crowd for a sign of
someone he knew. But there was no one.

He pushed to his knees and felt a stickiness
beneath him. Lifting a hand, he stared at it with confusion. A
dark, wet redness was painted upon it, the white creases of his
palm standing out in stark contrast. He wiped it across his tunic
and staggered to his feet.

The sky turned from stormy black to hazy
yellow. He knew he was standing in a field, but he could see little
else through the mysterious fog. A breeze stirred the air, and
sunlight spotted the landscape in patches of bright light. Ruairi
recoiled at the sight before him. There were people as far as the
eye could see, all lying motionless in the dirt.

The pummeling sound of horses’ hooves
redirected Ruairi’s attention. A rider could be seen galloping
toward him, its image a black silhouette against the rising sun at
its back. The black stallion stopped within feet of him and reared
up as the dark figure mounted upon it raised a sword high into the
air. It was the Lion!

Ruairi staggered back, then turned and ran.
But he had no idea where he was running to. The scenery shifted
around him, changing from a field of yellow dust to that of blood
red carnage. He tripped and sprawled across a body, the wide brown
eyes of it staring back at him. He threw himself off and rolled
onto his back. The rider barreled toward him, poised to attack.
Ruairi threw out an arm and screamed in terror.

From out of nowhere a shadowy form leapt
between them, his blade aimed in the direction of the rider. But
Ruairi could not identify his gallant defender, for the man’s back
was to him. The rider shouted and kicked his heels into the horse’s
ribs, sweeping the Lion downward. The stranger’s weapon met it with
a loud
clank
of metal. The stallion reared, and the man on
foot jumped to the side, barely escaping the reach of its
thundering hooves. The swords met again and again, neither gaining
ground, though the Lion had the clear advantage. The rider pulled
back and steered his horse in a wide circle. The stranger slowly
turned his face toward Ruairi, who gasped and called out a startled
warning. But it was too late. The rider was upon his opponent in an
instant, and the Lion’s gold was turned to red.

A tumultuous but silent wind wrapped Ruairi’s
body, twisting him in a cloud of confusion. The images of man and
horse evaporated, only to be replaced by even more terrifying
visions. He fell to the ground, shaking, and squeezed his eyes
against the sting of dust and the flashes of knowledge penetrating
his brain. A sob escaped his throat. This was not what he had asked
for. These were not things he wished to know.

“Agneis!” he cried. “Tell me they are
illusions only.”

“Illusions play on hopes and fears,” Agneis
whispered into his mind. “These are visions, and come from a far
deeper place.”

“Are they the future? Can I change them?”

“You can change only yourself, Ruairi. But
first you must accept and understand your own heroic path. Only
then can you inspire the changes in others that will lead to a
brighter future.”

All went quiet and still. Ruairi felt his
body relax, even as his mind continued to churn. The ground beneath
him became soft and cool. He opened his eyes, then sat up and
scanned the landscape around him. A great valley stretched as far
as he could see. Green and lush, it was surrounded by a circle of
purple mountains tipped in sparkling white. It was like no place he
had ever seen. Bright blue dragonflies darted around him, and birds
flew overhead, but he could not hear the sound of them, only the
rhythm of his heart, his own beating heart.

“Reiv!” he heard a distant voice call. He
stood and turned in a slow circle.

“Reiv!” the voice shouted again.

Then all went dark and Ruairi became aware of
only the voice, his other senses extinguished. It was as though he
were floating in a place devoid of light and smell and touch and
taste. There was nothing else, only the voice. He felt confused by
it, denying the name it spoke. But then he realized it was calling
his name—Reiv. Yes, Reiv was his true name.

“Reiv! Can you hear me? Come
back…please…”

He recognized the voice then. It was Dayn.
Dayn was his cousin. Dayn was his friend. And he was calling him
back.

Reiv gasped as he opened his eyes to the
fuzzy reality of the world. A great rush of air filled his lungs.
He pushed out his chest, drinking in the exhilarating feel of it,
then grabbed Dayn’s hand and looked desperately into his eyes.
“You…are…here,” Reiv rasped.

“Of course I’m here.” Dayn’s eyes glistened,
then he burst into laughter. “Reiv, I swear I would kill you myself
if I weren’t so glad to see you alive.”

“Alicine’s flowers,” Reiv whispered. He
squeezed Dayn’s hand. “For Kerrik.” Then he saw Alicine, her face
leaned to his, tears tracing patterns down her cheeks. She fell
across his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

Reiv lifted an arm and draped it over her,
then held her for a moment before his eyes drifted closed. His arm
fell to his side as he floated toward a comfortable dream, but his
breathing sounded steady, and his heart felt strong within his
chest.

“It’s truly a miracle!” Nannaven exclaimed,
her hands clasped beneath her chin. She turned to the three Elders
standing at her back, their mouths agape. “Go out and tell the
people he has done it! Tell them the prince has transcended!”

The men turned and scurried out, shouting the
news, but their words were quickly drowned by a wave of celebration
from the crowd.

Nannaven turned her attention to Alicine.
“What flowers does he speak of?”

Alicine sat up and turned to face her. “The
only flowers I know he could be speaking of were the ones I was
picking the day he found us.”

“What were they called?”

“I don’t remember. They were white…very
tiny…” Alicine’s voice trailed off as she attempted
recollection.

“They were like those on your Summer Maiden’s
dress, remember?” Dayn said.

“Yes, very much like those! You saw the
dress, Nannaven. The one Brina brought from Reiv’s apartment. In
Kirador we call them Daylies, but Reiv called them something
else.”

“Frusensias?” Nannaven asked.

“Yes! Yes…Frusensias! That was what he called
them,” Alicine said.

Nannaven looked doubtful. “Frusensias have
never held healing powers. The Tearians only use them for perfumes
and scented oils. I don’t see how those could be the flowers he’s
referring to.”

“If they’re anything like Daylies,” Alicine
said, “they may prove to strengthen the blood. Daylies have that
property when mixed with certain herbs. The mixture doesn’t cure
infection, but it can give a weak body strength to fight it, and it
can increase the appetite and—”

Nannaven rose. “Come with me and tell me what
we must do to make this medicine you speak of.” Alicine jumped up
and followed her out the door.

“Reiv. Can you hear me? Are you awake?” Dayn
said. He placed a hand on Reiv’s rising and falling chest.

“There you go shouting again,” Reiv mumbled.
His eyes fluttered open, the color of them clouded from the
ordeal.

Dayn grinned. “God, we thought you were
dead.”

“I was,” Reiv said.

“What? No--surely not dead! It must have just
seemed like it.”

“Is Alicine with Nannaven? Have they gone to
find the flowers? How is Kerrik? Has there been any change in
him?”

“Calm yourself. Kerrik’s the same as you last
saw him, but he’s still alive; and yes, Alicine and Nannaven have
gone to find the flowers and mix up a medicine. You were referring
to the Frusensias, weren’t you? That’s what we took you to
mean.”

Reiv released a breath of relief. “Yes,
Frusensias. Kerrik will be well now. Agneis told me.”

“Agneis? The
goddess
Agneis? Reiv, are
you certain? Maybe it was a dream or a hallucination from the drug
or—”

“It was no dream.”

Dayn paused and examined Reiv’s face. It
looked strained, but his tone was lucid and his words clearly
spoken, void of hesitation or doubt. “Well, for someone who didn’t
believe in prophecies…” Dayn said.

Reiv smiled. “Now if you will quit talking
and let me get some rest. I feel as though I have been to the
tavern instead of the After Realm.” He closed his eyes and was
instantly asleep.

BACK TO ToC

Chapter 16: Confessions

T
he mixture of
Frusensia and herbs did indeed prove to strengthen the blood, and
after but a few forced doses, Kerrik’s color began to return and
his breathing grew steady and strong. Reiv was led from the
ceremonial hut within hours, feeling amazingly well for someone who
had been poisoned. Many villagers converged upon him, begging him
to heal them or a loved one. He turned them away politely and
insisted he had not been given a healing gift such as that. Some
were disgruntled, thinking him a fraud. But their minds were soon
changed when it was discovered that one of the ingredients he had
drunk was a particularly deadly toxin. The dosage would have been
lethal to any ordinary person, and so the fact that Reiv had
survived at all further proved the miracle of his transcension. The
identity of the culprit who had switched the toxin with that
intended for the potion remained a mystery; Jensa had gathered
herbs from many people that day. But from that moment on it was
clear a traitor was in their midst.