The Awakened Book Two (19 page)

“How do I get back?” he asked.

The man pondered the question for several seconds before answering. “Keep rope. I will pull you up.”

The man’s answer lacked confidence, which caused Saba’s stomach to sink. But something compelled him to walk forward nonetheless. He grabbed the rope, untied it from the tree branch and stepped to the edge of the cliff. He knew that if he hesitated, it would only give him the chance to consider how dangerous this was. So he didn’t hesitate. Instead, he grasped the rope firmly with both hands, took a deep breath, and launched himself away from the cliff.

Saba’s heart immediately leaped into his throat as he caught a glimpse of the bottom of the chasm. Before he had time to ponder the pain of falling from this height, his breath was stolen by the sudden temperature change and immense downward force exerted on his body upon entering the water. The shock was short-lived as he passed through the falls. Instinctively, he loosened his grip on the rope and began to drop, longer than expected. When he hit the hard ground on the other side, the impact knocked the wind from his lungs. He stumbled, off balance, and fell to the ground, losing his grip on the rope. In a moment of panic at the thought of being trapped, he lunged for the rope as the downward force of the water whipped it across the dirt floor toward the waterfall. Just before the edge of the cliff, Saba’s finger made contact with the rope and he quickly grabbed it with full force. Momentarily relieved, Saba rolled over onto his back and struggled to regain his breath.

It took several minutes, but finally he rose to his feet and stared at the rushing water, keenly aware that he had almost just lost his way out. And yet, something inside him drove out the fear. He knew that he was walking down the path of his hidden memories, and that gave him confidence. Despite his desperate circumstances, there was no place he would rather be.

The deafening water at the mouth of the cave gave a shimmering glow to the surroundings, providing much more light than he would have expected. But as the cave narrowed toward the back, into the mountain, the glittering light was quickly lost. The natives had long ago dealt with this problem by keeping a torch and flint along the wall to the right. After fumbling with the crude instruments for a moment, Saba had a light source that chased away the darkness. Without hesitating, he began to follow the path and his eyes slowly adjusted to the orange glow of the torch. The cave continued to narrow until he found himself on his hands and knees, struggling to squeeze between the rocks and dust. Then, the passage suddenly widened into another cave and Saba could hear its size before he could see it. The sound of his feet on the uneven path was lost to the nothingness of this new space, no longer echoing as it did a few minutes before.

Holding up the torch, Saba let the light stretch across the cavern and was surprised by what he saw—numerous stone sarcophagi covering the floor, arranged in perfect rows. The natives, by what Saba could observe of their culture, didn’t appear to be adept at working with stone. However, the piles of stones around him, some carved with intricate designs, argued with his original observation. Walking along the mounds, from row to row, Saba felt drawn by something, although he wasn’t sure what he was looking for. It should have been unsettling, walking amongst the remains of the dead, but it was anything but unsettling. There was an overwhelming sense of peace that allowed him to search the entire length of the cavern without once feeling nervous.

Suddenly, Saba stopped. There, in front of him at the back of the cavern was a mound of a different sort. It was small, only a few feet square. He bent down to touch the stones, prepared to search through them, but stopped.
What if this is the resting place of a child, or the ashes of a holy man that didn’t require a full size coffin?
Somehow he knew this wasn’t the case. And so he proceeded to remove one stone at a time until a weathered wooden box was uncovered. He slowly raised the lid and lifted the torch over the top. Inside, bathed in the flickering glow of the fire above his head, Saba could see an object wrapped in an oiled cloth. Carefully, he lowered the torch and propped it against the sarcophagus behind him. Then, using both hands, he gingerly lifted the cylindrical pouch out of the pile of stones and rested it in his lap. His heart began to beat rapidly, for what reason he didn’t know, just that he felt on the verge of discovery.

With a deep breath, he untied the leather thong that bound the pouch and began to peel away the layers of oiled cloth and lay them in a pile on the dirt floor. There were many and it soon became apparent that this object was a prized possession worth protecting. Finally, the last layer came off and Saba held a scroll in his hands. It was plain, without decorations. It was much older than any of the scrolls he found in the libraries of
Orud
. It was ancient. He inspected it as well as he could in the faint light, holding it close to his eyes. Then he slowly and carefully began to unroll it…

A sudden jolt of fear surged through his body. There, in his shaking hands, was a symbol that caused him to lose his breath. The same symbol, in fact, that was carved into the shaft of an arrow given to him by the Governor of
Bastul
so many years ago.

He couldn’t understand his own emotions at this moment. He should have felt relief, even excitement at the prospect of discovering a clue to the mystery that had eluded him for so long. But instead, he felt a growing sense of dread. Cautiously, he unrolled the scroll and found the first passage of text. The written language was like nothing he had seen before, and for a few minutes he stared at the graceful strokes, carefully scribed on the crude parchment. And then, the ink strokes on the page began to communicate, and Saba began to read and understand.

THE WORDS OF SARIEL, ENTRUSTED TO HIS FAITHFUL SERVANT EBNISHA

At once the tears began to flow from his eyes as Saba read his true name. He understood immediately what he was holding in his hands and why he had reason to fear. He continued reading and with the discovery of each passage, he wept harder as memories came back to him. Faces, cities, experiences that warmed his heart alongside enemies, sufferings and trials that angered him and left him with a profound sense of loss. He kept reading until his eyes began to blur and the words ran together, all the while, he cried for the memories that he now regretted.

His body shook, waking him. Complete darkness surrounded him.

How long have I been here?

It may have been hours, or even days. Searching around the dirt, his hand closed upon the torch. It was cold, giving no indication of the length of time that had passed. Grasped tightly in the other hand and feeling as though it weighed the equivalent of the sarcophagus against which he leaned, was the scroll that had drawn him to this place. With a great deal of effort, Saba—
or Sariel
—rose to his feet and began to feel his way through the dark, toward the sound of rushing water. With the return of his memory came an impending sense of doom that quickened his steps and gave him a sense of urgency.
Time is running out for everyone! I have to hurry; I have to get back to
Orud
!

* * * *

Kael strode across the courtyard, his footsteps echoing off the surrounding stone buildings. His thick winter cloak was clasped at his neck by a golden torc, a symbol of high ranking in the Orud military. Although he wasn’t technically an Orud soldier, he had earned his place among them and their respect. Dacien had sent for Kael, though he didn’t say why. But the situation felt quite serious.

Following a wide street north from the courtyard, Kael traced his way to the General’s quarters, a magnificent columned structure that Dacien was uncomfortable with. He wasn’t used to such extravagance and was having a difficult time adjusting to this part of his responsibilities. Kael smiled to himself as he climbed the steps leading to the front entrance. There a pair of guards pulled their spears away from the door and allowed him to pass. The interior was decorated with sculptures and plants growing from large pots around the room. Kael moved quickly through the foyer and into the center of the house where Dacien waited with several of his other officers.

“You called?”

Dacien nodded. “Please sit.”

Kael moved to where Dacien indicated and sat at a large circular marble table.

“I’ve asked all of you to join me because I’ve received word back from
Orud
.”

Kael looked around the room and saw eager expressions among the eight other men.

“The Emperor has heard our request for aid and is gravely concerned about the state of the Empire. It seems that the Korgs have broken through the northern border and have taken the city of
Orlek
. The struggles in the north aren’t nearly as widespread as the Syvaku attacks, but the timing of the two is suspicious.”

“What will the Emperor do?” asked one of the men.

“Well, he hasn’t promised to give aid. In fact, there was no direct answer to our request. Instead, he is calling for all his Generals to assemble in
Orud
next spring.”

“That’s not a good idea,” voiced Kael.

“I know,” replied Dacien. “To have all the Generals in the same place at the same time—especially while the Empire is under attack from numerous enemies—is concerning, indeed. Nevertheless, we have been ordered to the capital.”

The other men shook their heads, but didn’t look surprised, as if this type of ridiculous mandate was common.

“One other thing…I’ve also been ordered to bring the one responsible for the death of the Syvak warlord.”

Kael’s eyebrows rose.

“The Emperor feels that you would be an inspiration at a time such as this,” he said to Kael. “So, my friend, it seems that we will journey together once again.”

Kael nodded, a little surprised that Dacien had used the word friend. They still weren’t on good terms as far as Kael knew. And in Dacien’s defense, Kael hadn’t put much effort into patching things up between them. He still had a great deal of affection for Dacien, and had come to miss the time they used to spend together. But he just wasn’t prepared to discuss the details of his past and he knew that conversation—which was sure to occur eventually—was necessary to making things right.

Instead, he had been spending his days with Ajani, trying unsuccessfully to reacquaint himself with his old companion. Sadly, it seemed that even that friendship would never be the same.
Sometimes, there’s just no going back.

The weeks passed, turning into months that were long and dreary. Kael, fully healed from his injuries, began to train again. Rising early every morning, he rode out of the city to the surrounding forest and found a place of solitude where he could stretch and strengthen his muscles. The motions of his exercise came back quickly, along with the familiar, but unexplainable sensation that had become second nature to him. As he moved his body through his exercises, his awareness broadened to encompass the surrounding leafless trees, and the long blades of golden grasses swaying in the breeze.

And then, out of curiosity, he tried something new. He pushed on the limit of his awareness, trying to force it outward. Just as one might scan the edges of a crowd in search of someone, ignoring those people that were in the immediate vicinity. Kael pushed his awareness outward and was surprised by its obedience. Suddenly, he became aware of more, in a wider area surrounding himself, though the clarity lessened.

Just like sight. The details are more difficult with greater distance.

I wonder…

Allowing the feeling to fade, he focused only in one direction, and felt a path extending away from himself to a range of nearly thirty feet. Grass, earth, trees, even wind currents—everything between himself and the extent of his awareness could be felt as though he was connected to it.

Interesting!

And then, he relaxed his body and pushed his awareness farther away, hoping to find the limit of his ability. Sixty, seventy, eighty feet away, he pushed until the clarity began to decline. And when it did, he narrowed his area of concentration and pushed more. His knees began to wobble and he knew that the strain was taking a toll on his body. But now he was determined to know what he was capable of.

Forcing it to go farther, narrowing his focus, his right hand began to tremor. His head began to ache and a trickle of blood ran down his lip. And just before he lost consciousness, he could feel at the other side of the clearing, a tiny beetle clinging to the bark of a tree. It began to scurry away, emitting a sense of panic as it crawled upward. And then darkness rushed in like a flood…

Staring up at the sky, Kael quickly realized what had happened. He sat up and glanced around, confirming that he had passed out where he stood. He tried climbing to his feet, and could feel the shakiness of his limbs, the same feeling that he experienced after intense labor.

He looked across to the edge of the forest at the other end of the meadow, to where he felt the beetle. It was nearly two hundred yards away. A smile crossed his face as he considered the implications of what he had just learned. In the past, he hadn’t been able to control his awareness to this extent. But when it came upon him, he was able to guide weapons to their mark with deadly accuracy. It seemed to act as a muscle that tired quickly unless trained regularly. But somehow, in the months that he had neglected its training, this muscle, this ability, had become far stronger.