Souls of Aredyrah 2 - The Search for the Unnamed One (28 page)

“I will be back soon.” Reiv took her by the
shoulders and leaned her back gently. “Is there anything you wish
me to tell him?”

“Yes. Tell him I forgive him…and I love
him.”

Reiv nodded. “I will.”

He had turned to exit the shelter when
Alicine called out to him, “Reiv, take the dirk at least.”

He nodded, feeling foolish for almost having
left without it, and retrieved the weapon from beneath his bedroll
and tucked it into his waistband.

“Oh, and Reiv…” Alicine ran up behind
him.

He stopped to face her. “What is it?”

“I wanted to tell you something before you
left, that’s all.”

“Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t wait. I want to thank you for
everything you’ve done for Dayn and me, and I want to tell
you—”

“That you expect I am going to die again,” he
said with amusement.

A wave of temper crossed her features. “That
is certainly not what I wanted to tell you!”

“What then?”

Alicine opened her mouth to speak, but
nothing came out.

“Then I will say it,” Reiv said. “I love you.
There… it is done.” He bent down and kissed her startled face. “I
will be back shortly. Perhaps by then your lips will be
working.”

He smiled and walked away, leaving a
strangely silent Alicine staring after him.

BACK TO ToC

Chapter 26: City of Rats

I
t was early
afternoon when Reiv reached the Tearian encampment outside what
remained of the walls. Strangely, no hostility greeted him when he
arrived. The eyes that followed him as he passed were full of pain
and longing. No longer did they taunt him with their stares. No
longer did they turn from him in disgust. Once beautiful and
arrogant, the Tearians were now filthy and haggard, their misery
equally distributed regardless of class or distinction.

Reiv made his way through the crowd, ignoring
the uplifted hands and pleas for help. His mission was to find his
brother. There was no time for charity. He scanned the host of
grimy faces, but saw no sign of his brother. Realizing Whyn would
not be huddled amongst the rabble, he set his sights on a group of
guards posted at the entrance to the city.

The entrance was nothing more than a place in
the wall where the wreckage had been cleared away. No traffic was
coming or going through it, no doubt because of the guards. Why
they were there was not clear; there did not seem much beyond the
wall worth going in for.

Reiv reached the guards and was ordered to
halt. “What is your business here?” one of them asked.

“I have come to speak with the King. Do you
know where I might find him?”

The guard seemed uneasy for a moment, then he
said, “He is at the palace, what is left of it. He refuses to
leave.”

Reiv nodded and walked past. No one made a
move to stop him.

As he inched his way through the wreckage
that was once the main street, Reiv kept his attention on the
skeletal remains of the buildings on either side of him. He knew
the slightest tremble, maybe even the tiniest gust of wind, could
send them tumbling in his direction. He clambered atop a mound of
debris, pausing to gain his bearings. Street signs and former
landmarks were all but obliterated; little about the place seemed
familiar to him anymore. He turned his eyes toward the hill where
the palace once stood, surveying the twisting maze of stone that
lay between him and his destination.

He began his descent from the mound, but
something scurried across his foot, throwing him off balance.
Vermin swarmed from beneath the rubble, screeching and clattering
as they skittered away. Reiv shivered. His once beautiful home had
become a city of rats.

He made his way through the rocky mess as
best he could, keeping his eyes primarily on his feet, but he was
soon halted by the pungent smell of death. A body, half- buried,
lay just ahead of him. Reiv’s stomach roiled. From where he stood,
the body was barely recognizable as a person; only the trace of its
clothing revealed it as such. Reiv threw his hand over his nose,
but the stench would not be erased. For a moment he thought to turn
and abandon his mission altogether. He couldn’t imagine finding his
brother, or mother, or anyone else he knew in that condition.
Turning his eyes aside, he directed his path away from the corpse
and hurried on.

After what seemed like an eternity he reached
the remains of the palace. Pausing to survey what was left of the
temple a short distance away, he could not help but feel buoyed by
its demise. Once the home of Tearia’s religious powers, it was now
annihilated, its pillars and sacred statues scattered into a
thousand pieces, the influence of the Priestess destroyed along
with it.

He turned his attention back to the palace.
It bore little resemblance to the home of his childhood memories.
The place was eerily quiet, and the crunch of rocks beneath Reiv’s
feet shouted his presence with every step he took. Wreckage tumbled
in tiny avalanches as he stumbled over it, its echoes resonating
against the few remaining walls. As the sun streamed in through
holes in sagging chunks of ceiling, it bathed the room in patches
of cheery light, such contrast to the dismal aura of the ruins.

The walls leaned in precariously, prompting
Reiv to work his way as far from them as possible. The palace was a
huge, jumbled place, and Reiv wasn’t sure where to look first. His
brother could be anywhere, if he was even there at all. “Whyn,” he
called softly. He stopped and listened, but heard nothing, then
moved forward a few more paces and paused again. “Whyn,” he
repeated.

He heard a rustle to his left and made his
way toward it. Rounding a jagged half-wall, he found himself in the
area that was once the receiving room. His eyes gravitated toward
the place where the dais would have been. What he saw there stopped
him in his tracks.

Whyn sat upon the once elegant throne, the
frame of it now lopsided and bent. His chin was slumped against his
chest, and his arms were draped across those of the chair. A plate
sat on the floor before him, covered by several busy rats. No doubt
the guards had attempted to feed their King, but from the look of
him, he had not partaken of the offering. His face was drawn and
deathly pale, and his hair hung limp and matted. He raised his eyes
to Reiv. They were haunted and dull. Even the Lion Sword that lay
across his lap bore no glimmer.

Reiv moved slowly toward his brother. “Whyn.”
But that was all he could say.

A flicker of recognition crossed Whyn’s
features. His lips parted. Then his eyes shifted to a pile of
massive stones nearby and the remains of a tiny hand protruding
from it. “Cinnia,” Whyn said, his voice barely a whisper.

Reiv’s gaze followed that of his brother. A
knot swelled in his throat. He swallowed, but could not ease its
grip. “Please, Whyn,” he managed. “Let me take you from this
place.”

“No!” Whyn shouted. “I will not leave
her!”

Reiv tensed as his brother’s thundering voice
bounced off the unstable walls. He nodded as if in agreement, then
slowly crossed over to where Cinnia’s body lay. He gazed at her for
a moment, but that moment seemed like an eternity as visions of
happier times worked through his mind. He forced his eyes from her
and searched the ground around him. A tapestry lay half-buried
beneath a pile of nearby debris. He pulled it out and draped it
across her.

“Cinnia would not want you to remember her
like this,” Reiv said, turning to his brother. “She would want you
to remember her as she was.”

“She was so beautiful,” Whyn whispered.

“The most beautiful girl in all of Tearia,”
Reiv said gently.

“She loved me, you know.”

Reiv hesitated, then replied, “Of course she
did.”

A flash of crimson rushed to Whyn’s face. “It
was always me! Never you!”

Reiv felt anger surge to his breast, but then
he realized it no longer mattered whether Cinnia had loved him or
not. “I know, Whyn. You are right. It was always you.” Reiv scanned
the room. “Where is Mother?” he asked cautiously.

“Gone…dead,” Whyn said with a wave of his
hand.

Reiv nodded and fought back the tears
stinging his eyes. He walked toward his brother and stood before
him. “Cinnia is dead, Whyn. And Mother. But you are very much
alive. You must try to set their deaths aside for a while, if you
can. There will be time enough to grieve for them, but right now
you have other responsibilities. Your people need you.”

“I have failed them all,” Whyn said.

“No, but you will if you sit here and wallow
in self-pity. You must go to them. You are their King.”

“King of what?” Whyn said. “There is nothing
left.”

“Of course there is. Tearia is its people,
not its buildings. Buildings can be rebuilt, and they will be.
Right now you need to focus on those who need you.”

“What can I possibly do for them?”

“You can show them that you are strong, that
you will work to heal their wounds and make Tearia great again. But
it can never be as it was before.”

“Who are you to tell me what Tearia can or
cannot be.” Whyn’s eyes narrowed into slits. He fingered the sword
in his lap.

“I am here to tell you the Jecta are willing
to help if you agree to their concessions.”

Whyn moved to protest, but Reiv cut him
short. “They only ask for basic human rights. They have been denied
them for too long. Put your pride aside, Whyn. You know the truth
of things. You know the Priestess did not speak for Agneis. You saw
it for yourself.”

Whyn shivered and wrapped his arms around
himself. “It is as though she took my very soul with her.”

“No one can take another’s soul unless it is
given freely.”

Whyn hung his head. “Then I must have done
so.”

Reiv stepped toward him. “The brother I know
would have never done such a thing. You are still Whyn.”

Whyn lifted his eyes to him. “I fear there is
very little of Whyn left in me.”

Reiv knelt on one knee and placed a hand atop
his brother’s. Whyn regarded it with a puzzled expression.

“I know you to be strong,” Reiv said. “You
will fight this feeling and you will win. In the meantime, let us
put the battle between us aside. If we are to move forward, we must
find a way to forgive. I do not wish to carry this burden anymore.
I want this settled once and for all. After things are set right
between the Tearians and the Jecta, I will be leaving and will
likely never see you again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I am no longer Tearian, Whyn. I am Shell
Seeker now and will be going home to Meirla.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because it is true. My heart lies there,
just as yours lies here. The throne of Tearia is yours. I want no
part of it, and have not for quite some time.”

Whyn wrapped his fingers around the hilt of
the sword. “You wanted this not so long ago.”

“No more. It is yours now, but the sword’s
legacy is not one we should be proud of. For a time I thought to
destroy it. Now I think it should be kept safe as a reminder of
things.”

Whyn rose, then stared at the tapestry
covering Cinnia. He lifted his head and slowly straightened his
shoulders. “What needs to be done then?”

Reiv stood and scanned Whyn up and down.
“First we must get you looking more presentable. Then we must
arrange a meeting between you, your council, and the Jecta
representatives. Once the agreement is drawn, the healing can
begin. It is the only way.”

Whyn nodded. “Then we will do it.” His words
conveyed hope, but the flat tone of his voice and the emptiness in
his eyes somehow failed the mark.

BACK TO ToC

Chapter 27: Destinations

W
hyn emerged from
his seclusion with all the dignity befitting a King. No one dared
question his mysterious absence in the days preceding. They were so
thrilled to see him that there was no room in their hearts for
bitterness.

Reiv stayed at his brother’s side that day,
explaining the ways the Jecta could help. Meanwhile Whyn ordered
the Guard to reorganize and disperse into groups. They took a
careful survey of food and supplies within the Tearian encampment
and arranged swift medical treatment for those most in need. Whyn
requested that a meeting with the Jecta take place the following
morning, and Reiv returned to the Pobu encampment that night to
deliver the news.

The sun had long since set when Reiv arrived
back at camp, but the moon was bright and cast a pale, silver
light. Dark canopies rippled in the breeze, and campfires danced
and sparked along the hillside. The smell of smoke and meats
cooking on spits mingled with the night air, and for a moment Reiv
wondered if Dayn’s message regarding the rats had been heeded.
Voices rose and fell, the hum of chatter mixed with an occasional
burst of laughter. The merriment was music to Reiv’s ears, and he
pushed the thought of rats from his mind.

“Reiv…over here!” Dayn shouted.

Reiv smiled and moved toward his cousin who
was headed his way. They grabbed each other in a brief embrace.

“How did it go?” Dayn asked. “Did you find
him?”

“Yes, I found him,” Reiv said. “My brother is
not as he was when you last saw him. When I came upon him he was a
shell of his former self. But he has pulled himself together and
now works to make things right. He realizes it cannot be done
without the Jecta. A meeting is called for in the morning. We need
to get the word to the clan leaders.”

“I’ll do it,” Dayn said. “Get yourself some
food. I won’t be long.”

“What about the rats?” Reiv asked. “I smelled
meat cooking when I arrived.”