A Dark Tide (Book of One) (10 page)

The loss of Kandara irritated Calexis, but the reappearance of the dragon prince, while an annoyance, was also another opportunity. If she could take his power, she could finally gain the full measure of the dragon gift, completing that which she had taken from the older brother, Elric, the failed young king of Kandara. With such power, along with that of the others who would soon fall into her trap, and finally the power of the one she awaited, who drew nearer to her with every passing moment, Calexis knew she would be truly unstoppable. She turned her attention back to the one she truly sought and froze, her eyes wide with frustration, for she could no longer feel him. It was as though he had disappeared completely.

*****

"
What have you done?
" Stroma cried, his thoughts a combination of concern and intense pain.

"
I would have thought the great and knowledgeable Stroma would recognize such a spell,
" Aaron replied.

"
Of course I do, but this is unbearable, Aaron,
"
the god complained.

"
If you can't take it, then get out of my head.
"

"
You know I can't do that. I am stuck with you.
"

"
Then you can suffer with me.
"

Aaron gritted his teeth against the blinding pain of the ward he had created, and he forced one foot in front of the other. The road he walked rose up over a hill and, rising in the distance against the dark clouds of an ominous sky, he saw the high walls and towers of the city of Maramyr.

Jax walked back toward the blazing fire, his expression dark and his mood even darker, for it seemed that he was trapped in this strange place. It like walking around in the night sky, his feet finding purchase on what felt like solid ground, except there was nothing below him, or above him for that matter. Jax had walked and walked in numerous different directions, but it seemed to make no difference in his position, relative to the stars, which were little more than countless tiny points of light glimmering at him from far off in the distance. And no matter which way he went, Jax always seemed to find himself back near the fire and the man who had disappeared long ago, his father, whose shameful act had caused so much trouble in the world.

Jax sat down on the other side of the fire and stared at his father, Dash Larian, the former protector to the royal family, a task at which he had not only singularly failed but was apparently also the one responsible for their deaths. As far as Jax could tell from Dash's drunken and somewhat incoherent confessions, it was his hand that had carried out the attack on the king and his family, though Jax also wondered what role the book he carried might have played. Stuck in this place, and hearing Dash ramble through the story more than a few times, he was able to piece things together somewhat, and he had ample time to consider how things had all come about.

The book, which Jax recognized from various descriptions he had heard, was a copy of the magical tome of the black robed priests, believed by the few mages he had encountered over the years to possess a magic that would enslave anyone who looked upon its pages. Jax also knew that the nature of the book would not have been well known years ago when Dash would have acquired it. Back then, there was no priesthood, or at least they did not promote their cult openly, thus there would be no reason for anyone with magical ability to be wary of such a book. At this point, however, the rumors about the book were still not well known in many circles, despite the fact that most of the mages across the land and in other kingdoms as well had already fallen under the spell of this supposed one god, becoming converted into devoted followers. Unfortunately, it seemed that whomever had given Dash the book, somehow knew that he had a hidden talent for magic and, from his description of the things he saw, and what came after, once he had gazed upon its pages, he had apparently become subject to its will.

Strangely, whatever magic the book possessed, whatever spell it was that took hold of the will of those who gazed upon it, did not seem to have any effect in this odd place of stars and nothingness The fact that Dash, despite his apparent madness and perpetual state of drunkenness, no longer seemed to be under its power was a fair indication that the book was likely safe to open, and since Jax had even less of an affinity for magic than his father, he figured it might not be dangerous to take a look. Though he was wary at first, out of curiosity and more than a little boredom at being stuck in this place for however long, he decided to open the book, wondering what sort of story it might have to tell.

Though the images were ever changing, its themes were consistent. Looking into the book was like seeing the thoughts of a madman, its pages full of darkness and violence, images of death and destruction, intermingled with the occasional object of beauty, which would then rot or crumble. It was thoroughly depressing, and Jax imagined that if he were to be stuck here like his father for seemingly endless years, with only such images, he would be driven to drink as well, if not to madness. Dash had been more than willing to give up the book and Jax noticed that his conversations seemed to be noticeably more coherent of late, though it could also be a result of simply having someone to talk to. Jax closed the book and looked at his father again as the man reached into nowhere and pulled out another bottle.

"What are we drinking today?" Jax asked, even though he did not know whether it was day or night, and he contemplated if he should simply count the bottles his father drank, as some sort of accurate measure of time.

"Maeran sweetwater," Dash replied as he pulled the cork with his teeth then spit it onto the nonexistent ground. "And it's as good as I remember it, better even."

He took a swig and held up the bottle.

"No, thank you," Jax said. "I still don't know how you do that."

"Like I said, it's easy," Dash said with a grin. "You just have to want it, and reach for it."

"Well it doesn't work for me."

Jax had tried repeatedly to grasp things out of thin air the way his father managed to do, but without any success. Perhaps he did not want anything badly enough for it to appear, and if Dash was correct about how such strange magic worked, it appeared he wanted very badly to remain drunk.

"The only thing I really want is to get out of here," Jax said. "Unfortunately, it seems that isn't an option."

"Why?" Dash asked. "What's the point of being anywhere else?"

"I don't know, perhaps living a life, doing things in the world, you know, things that people do," Jax replied, with more than a little sarcasm.

"No point," Dash said. "It's all dead."

"What's all dead?"

"Life is death."

"That makes no sense," Jax said.

"It doesn't?"

"No, it doesn't."

"Well that's where it leads, the path to nothingness."

"I think you've been reading too many books," Jax said, and he held up the book in his hand. "This one in particular."

"I've seen its pages, I have," Dash insisted. "Everything dies. It's better here, where there's a warm fire, plenty to drink and the stars always shine."

"Yet nothing dies in this place," Jax commented.

"Ha! That's because there's nothing here," Dash replied with a grin.

"You're here, aren't you?" Jax pointed out, and Dash frowned.

"Well I suppose that's true, but this is no kind of a life."

"On that we happen to agree," Jax said. "Do you think you could find a way out of here if you really wanted to?"

"I don't know," Dash said, staring at the mouth of the bottle. "I don't know. This place is a wonder. I think we should stay."

"Maybe you don't want to leave, but I do," Jax told him. "Maybe you want to help me."

"I would love to help you, my boy," Dash said, looking at him across the flickering flames, his eyes suddenly sharp and his gaze direct and penetrating. For a moment he looked exactly the way Jax remembered him, then one of his eyes drooped and his focus was gone. "There's really no point. It's all gone."

"What's all gone?" Jax asked.

"All of it," he said. "They're all dead."

Jax sighed in frustration as Dash took another drink and began mumbling to himself. It was like this every time Jax had tried to talk with his father, one moment or two of clarity, then back to his drunken ramblings. A part of him wanted to slap the man and tell him to wake up, to face the things he had done, and another part of him did not have the heart. If this had been his existence all this time, it was no wonder Dash had lost his mind. No matter how many things he might want and be able to get just with a thought, the truth of the matter was that he was still trapped here, and until recently, he was all alone, with only his own thoughts and the mad visions of a dark god, which could not have helped. Jax looked down at the book in his hand and considered whether he should just toss it in the fire. If, somehow he managed to escape from this place, he had already decided that he would leave the book behind. It was better off in such a place, where it could no longer do any harm. Jax was about to open the book again, when he suddenly felt it move. He gripped the book tighter as it moved again, almost as though someone was trying to pull it from his hand. He stood up as the book tugged even harder, pulling steadily away from him and he grabbed hold of it with both his hands.

"What are you doing?" Dash asked.

"The book," Jax said. "It's trying to get away from me."

"Let it go then," Dash said. "Let it do what it wants."

"No," Jax said. "If this foul tome is to go anywhere, it will go into the fire."

Jax pulled on the book and he saw the stars in front of him begin to move, blurring and swirling, and he saw a strange light appear, similar to what had brought him here. It seemed that the book was trying to return to the world, and as much as he did not like that particular idea, he realized that it might mean he could find his way back as well.

"Would you help me with this," he said to his father.

"No, thank you very much," Dash said. "You keep it."

"But I think it might be a way out of here," Jax said.

"A way out?" Dash smiled, then he frowned. "Well there you go."

"Come with me." Jax felt his grip on the book slipping as the swirl of light in front of him continued to grow in size.

"Why?"

"You could be trapped here forever."

"But it's quiet here, and haven't you noticed? There are no shadows in this place."

"Don't you want to make things right? " Jax yelled as the vortex grew more powerful, dragging him and the book into it.

"You live your life, Jax," Dash said, and he raised his bottle and smiled as Jax was whisked away by the book.

*****

The streets of Maramyr were filled with smoke and fog, made darker by the storm clouds overhead. Aaron walked through the city, his nose rankling at the stench of death and all manner of things decomposing. Gone was the lively, bustling city he remembered, now replaced by a dirty, oppressive atmosphere of despair and desolation. The few people he saw out on the streets appeared sickly and walked slowly, their tired eyes glazed over, staring forward and unblinking, in a daze, ensorceled by dark magic. Aaron noticed that the city also looked different and, as he strode deeper into its center, he saw that the area where the five great temples once stood had been all but destroyed. The only structure left standing was the new temple of the dark god, which was thrown into sharp relief by the rubble that surrounded it and the once neatly cobbled streets that were now cracked and strewn with refuse.

"
A fitting scene
," Stroma commented in Aaron's thoughts.

"
I don't understand this,
" Aaron said, looking around at the damage. "
I know the dark power seeks to consume, but what is the purpose in such destruction?
"

"
Perhaps it is a message,
" Stroma said. "
If you noticed, Kenra's temple has been destroyed as well.
"

"
Yes,
" Aaron said, glancing over to where the temple once stood as he continued onward through the city. "
But what purpose does that serve?
"

"
None,
" Stroma replied. "
Except to declare that the gods no longer matter and this new god is a different power completely. I suspect that Kenra, as he once was, truly is no more.
"

"
What was he like, before?
" Aaron asked, a little curious.

"
Are you finally agreeing to let me share some of my knowledge with you?
"

"
I am asking you a simple question,
" Aaron said. "
But we can go back to not talking if you prefer.
"

"
No, it's fine,
" Stroma said. "
Describing a god is difficult, but if you want to know Kenra's personality, he was always suspicious of things, distrusting of the other gods and saw the world as a chaotic and difficult place.
"

"
I would think he would thrive on chaos.
"

"
In a sense, but only the chaos of destruction, and even then, only as a means to an end, that being his expression of jealousy and anger
.
Perhaps the thing that Kenra hated most of all was the chaos of life. It bothered him that others, the gods and the various peoples of the world, even the creatures of the forest, could choose their own path. Such things threatened him, for he trusted no one. Out of that obsessive fear, he always sought obedience and control, though he called it peace and order, and for those who would refuse him, he offered only destruction.
"

"
That isn't much of a choice
," Aaron commented.

"
Not particularly, no,
" Stroma agreed.

"
I am surprised that he would have a temple at all. I can't imagine anyone worshiping a god who offers only obedience or death,
" Aaron said.

"
There are many who fear the world and see the will of others only as a threat. Such are the cowardly, the craven souls whose hearts are dark, for they choose not to shine with their own light, but become like shadows, mocking their own truth as they take refuge within their shame. They are weak for they embrace fear, and they are easily manipulated by the one who would affirm their weakness and salve their fears by offering them a false path while naming it truth, when the truth is that there is no path.