The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' (38 page)

Sonal reached
across the table and took his brother’s hand in his for support and
grateful thanks and Varan turned to stare into his eyes as if he
were the only person in the room before he continued.

‘One by one we
kissed the crystal and spoke the words Sonal, one by one we died as
our throats were sliced open like ripe fruits, so many men… so many
women
and
children!’ Varan stopped speaking as he
desperately tried to hold back his emotions, ‘all too soon it was
my turn…’ He continued to stare into his brother’s eyes seeing his
own past swimming before him. ‘As I took it into my hands Sonal, I
swear I prayed it would accept my soul and keep my family,
keep
you,
free of it, free of the crystal. I held it so tightly
between my fingers that I could not feel how icy cold or how sharp
its edges were and it sliced through my skin but I didn’t feel it
then, as I brought the crystal to my lips it began to glow. It
pulsed with colour, purple and black swathes of rich vibrant
colour, ribbons of a… a newfound life. I touched it to my lips not
realising I had inadvertently smeared the blood from my fingertips
across my mouth. The blood on my lips felt hot, so burning hot, I
lay them on the cold crystal once more to cool the heat and to stop
the dreadful burning.’ Varan withdrew his hand from his brother’s
clasp and held it empty and open before him, he looked down onto
his palm as if he could still see the cuts on his fingertips,
silent tears fell from his eyes leaving tracks of silver running
down his face and he was almost whispering as he continued.

‘The priests
got very excited and couldn’t decide whether to slit my throat then
and there or to save my sacrifice for another festival, such a
thing had never happened before. The high priest immediately
removed the crystal from my hands and I never spoke the words that
I believed would free my family from further torment. At once, the
crystal dulled and turned black and again this was something that
had not happened before, so hastily the high priest returned the
crystal to my hands where for a second time it began to glow. I had
been spared and my life changed.’ Varan’s tears now seemed
inconsolable he wept openly, beseechingly.

‘I became a
priest; a living representative of the entity within the crystal,
the crystal itself had chosen me as a servant. The tattoo I bear
now is the mark of the high priest.’ Once more Sonal reached across
the table to offer comfort to his brother. Varan pushed his hands
away gently. ‘Sonal’, he said, ‘I watched our Grandfather die… I, I
killed him.’ He added, so quietly the sound was below a
whisper.

Sonal paused
for a moment, unsure of what his brother said.

‘Did you not
hear me Sonal? Grandfather died at
my
hands.’

‘I don’t
understand, what do you mean, you killed him?’ Sonal asked quietly.
Varan shook his head as he spoke.

‘Grandfather
was taken in a raid, he was old and ill and he was brought before
me amongst a group of men who had also been taken. As high priest,
part of my role was to select sacrifice for the stone and I deemed
the frail old man not worthy to kiss the altar let alone the
crystal itself. I, I did not realise who he was...’ Varan’s voice
dropped once more causing all the listeners to move forward
slightly. ‘I don’t think I would have cared if I had known,’ he
added, ‘during the selection ceremony, the captives selected for
the crystal are taken away and kept in seclusion and their blood is
taken to clean and feed the stone. The rejected men, women and
sometimes children are hung… he, grandfather, was hung high on a
stone altar, the altar stones guard the entrance to the chamber, I
believe they were once upright columns’ but over time they’d fallen
to a degree that had become useful…’ Thaddrick immediately saw the
entrance to the large chamber of justice he and his fellow
colonists had painstakingly cut from the rock. Large columns cut
from the living rock to represent justice and peace for the twelve
schools of Arotia; he shuddered to think of the atrocities that had
defiled the once sacred domain.

‘There are
grooves cut into the rock so when a man’s wrists or throat is cut
the blood flows slowly along the groove and falls into a collecting
chamber, once the corpse is empty it is destroyed by fire and the
blood is taken to the site of the gateway.’ Varan paused in his
tale and looked squarely at Thaddrick. ‘The gateway is venerated by
all and once there the blood is placed in a bowl on a similar altar
to the one that holds the crystal, a priest then watches over it as
it slowly becomes part of the void itself, sent to act as a beacon
to find others like the spirit within the crystal.’

‘By the
Journey…’ Thaddrick whispered to himself, ‘I should have found a
way to destroy the entity not just throw it into the lake and wash
my hands of it. Tell me Varan; why do I detect no evil in you,
nothing like the being whose presence I felt in my nephew so long
ago.’ Varan smiled weakly in reply.

‘My grandfather
saved me, he recognised me and said nothing in case it endangered
me, then as I prepared to slit his throat just like I had the
others he spoke to me…’

Varan saw the
scene once more in his mind as he told his tale, seven of the other
captives already bled out and dead, two more whose blood was slowly
dripping along the grooved rock ready to fall into the collecting
bowls and himself reaching up to the neck of another old man a
ceremonial knife in his hand. He was singing a spell for confusion
and pain, something to capture the old man’s soul as it departed
and became one with the entity. The old man looked into Varan’s
eyes showing no fear, only love and forgiveness, surprised, Varan
hesitated with his knife.

‘Varan, the
Journey Wills, as it will,’ the old man said painfully, the words
sending a paroxysm of shock and recognition through him. ‘Remember
your brother’s oath, the Guardians oath. I love you boy, I always
have, now then, slice deep so I die quick.’ He added, leaving Varan
unable to move as he recognised his grandfather and finally he
remembered just who he was and remembered his brother’s oath, the
oath he was never born to take but had so many times with his twin
each time they traded places and clothes on the mountain as
children.

‘Cut deep boy,’
he heard his grandfather hiss, as the watching priests became aware
of the change in the ritual and began to take notice.

‘I can’t
grandpa, forgive me, I can’t,’ he whispered as the tears of regret
and shame at what he had become built in his throat threatening to
fall as tears. Forgiveness filled his grandfather’s eyes once more
and Varan felt his love.

‘Kill me now
boy, before they kill you too, the Journey wills us all along our
path, find your brother,’ he said. Varan had been about to speak
again when one of his fellow priests had called up too him.

‘Are you
well?’

‘Perfectly,
thank the crystal,’ he answered and with pain in his heart he
pushed the knife deep into his grandfather’s throat. He watched as
the flesh parted and the blood began to fall freely tracing its
path, winding toward the ornate collecting bowl and the altar
servant ready to carry the offering of blood.

‘I know not why
but from that moment I was free of the crystal’s influence, I
planned my escape with meticulous care and trusted no one. I
arranged to go on a raid near the pass and I remembered a small
cave where Sonal and I had often changed clothes, as we became each
other, I hid there until the raiding party had passed back through
the barrier once more. Over the years, the barrier has weakened
very significantly and periodically one can predict where it will
break down completely for a short periods. If done correctly, one
can avoid the message and the sickness,’ he said quietly.

‘What sickness,
I don’t recall a sickness or a message?’ Sonal said, clearly
puzzled and looking up at his brother for the first time since he
had revealed the details of their grandfather’s death.

‘The message is
passed on through contact with the barrier’s fabric, in some
subject’s it causes conflict within the soul, if the soul is
inherently evil the conflict causes the person to become ill and
usually they die, torn apart from within. I believe I didn’t die
from the sickness because my heart was no longer evil and I prayed
to the Journey to protect me, to let me live as I passed
through.’

Sonal stood and
rounded the table his face full of sorrow; he took his brother’s
hands into his own once more. ‘Forgive me Varan, I should never
have asked you to be me, the burden should never have been yours to
bear,’ he said.

‘There is
nothing to forgive, as grandfather said, the Journey wills as it
will. You must forgive yourself my brother.’ Varan replied and
stood to accept the arms that encircled him, tears of love and
regret washed through both men as the others watched.

Mayan, slightly
embarrassed by the tears of the two grown men turned her face away
as Thaddrick spoke. ‘If the crystal has risen from the lake and
Gath gets to it, he may not need Gideon, he may be able to open the
gateway alone,’ he mused, his own face full of concern.

‘Thaddrick,’
Mayan smiled suddenly, ‘that’s a good thing isn’t it?’ She said,
relief forging a smile. She did not like the idea of Gideon or Jed,
her brother going to the Bleak any more than Gideon’s father
did.

‘No my dear, If
Gath reaches the crystal before Gideon, he may well be strong
enough to open a gateway alone but I believe he will open it into
the void and not onto Arotia. If the gateway is opened to the void,
all life as we know it will die,
and
sooner, rather than
later.’ Thaddrick paused in his speaking; his thoughts seemed
suddenly to be miles away as Gideon spoke.

‘Thaddrick,’
Gideon said again a little louder this time, his father touched the
old man on the arm.

‘Blue, Gid be
asking yer a question.’ Jed said as Thaddrick shook himself to
clear his thoughts.

‘I said,’
Gideon began again, ‘he won’t reach it first will he, the gateway I
mean, he’s still here outside the forest where ‘e, sorry,
he
, was yesterday, remember, you said, ‘time played
differently for us ‘ere.’ Gideon had listened intently, still not
happy about the amount of death or sacrifice being bandied about
like gifts at the winter festival but he listened, knowing it was
his duty to do what he could to help the old man.

Thaddrick
looked at the members of the small group around the table. ‘I
believe time is running out, as I have said time here is different,
not stopped and, as Varan told you the spells are wearing thin,
wearing out. Alone, I don’t have the power to remake either the
wall or the barrier around the Bleak.’

Mayan shivered
and yawned, suddenly very tired, unbeknownst to the small group,
night had long since thrown her blanket of darkness over the world
and the room had slowly emptied of most of listeners even though
the story had not finished.

‘Well if I’m
‘the one’ ‘ow can I ‘elp… er,
how
can I
help
if I
can’t even get outside the forest without killing someone or making
myself sick?’ Gideon exclaimed, ‘but if fer one moment you think I
am travelling all the way to the Bleak in me… sorry,
my
granda’s coffin you have another think coming.’ He added referring
to the wooden box made of Green Home wood he had travelled back
from his grandparents’ house in. Thaddrick hid a small smile behind
a hand as he noticed Gideon continually correcting his own
speech.

‘Oh, I heard
about that that,’ Thaddrick chuckled quietly, again hiding his
smile at Gideon’s ever changing speech in the idea of the wooden
travelling box. ‘I’m sure the others made it as comfortable as
possible… under the circumstances,’ he smiled again, as Mayan and
her brother turned their faces to the floor, not quite able to hide
the grins that turned their mouths up at the corners.

‘Anyway,’
Thaddrick added, coughing politely, ‘it’s very late, indeed not
long until dawn,’ he stood quietly, his face serious once more.
‘Whilst you are here Gideon we will endeavour to teach both you and
young Lemba the control your magic requires. Rhoàld I think you
should attend some of the lessons too,’ he said adding to the
group, ‘if you had been born on Arotia you would all have been
schooled from infancy to control the forces your blood calls to and
it would by now, seem as natural to you as breathing but you will
soon learn. For example Gideon, do you remember using magic
yourself before you became ill in the woods?’ He asked as Gideon
also stood.

‘No, never
have,’ Gideon replied looking a little surprised at the question.
Sonal looked at Gideon strangely.

‘Gideon, my own
command of the magic has always been stronger when you are around,
for example do you remember the time we,
no,
you
,
made the holes in the stones you wanted to give the twins as gifts?
Remember how I struggled to maintain the magic, it was only when
you took over when you touched the roots yourself that it could be
accomplished. You bored the holes using the magic, not me. Do you
not recall that I was surprised at the lack of a balance
needed?’

Gideon looked
back at the time he had studied rocks and stones with Sonal. Sonal
was right he had had a hard time trying to bore the holes until he
had touched Sonal’s arm to gain his attention to suggest another
way of cutting through the rocks, perhaps using something other
than magic. He had suddenly felt one with the rock; he had seen the
way the cuts were to be made and when Sonal had moved away from him
he had watched as the holes had become real, not just a thought in
his mind. The particles of rock seemed to melt under his gaze as
the holes had formed and he had thought Sonal’s magic was a wonder
to behold; not realising he was using the magic himself.