Element Wielder (The Void Wielder Trilogy Book 1) (13 page)

CHAPTER 25

There was no mistake. Though Falcon had been a child when he last saw her, he had never forgotten her face. How could he? She was in his dreams every night.

Except here, trapped forever in a moment of time, she looked much happier than she ever appeared in his dreams. She wore a blue floral-patterned dress and a white ribbon tied her long black hair in a ponytail.

“There’s another one of her over here if you want to see,” said Faith, pointing at a canvass by the door.

Falcon rushed to see. This second painting had his whole family in it. His mother once again held him in her arms. Through the picture his father stared back at him with deep brown eyes. Next to his father stood Albert, who couldn’t be more than ten years old, which meant the picture had to have been painted a little before his mother was murdered.

“Where did you get these?” he asked.

“I told you, these are all paintings of people from this village.”

“That can’t be, my family and I are not from this village.”

“You really don’t remember, do you? I must have sounded like such a fool to you back in my room.”

“Don’t remember what? There’s nothing to remember.”

Faith sighed. “My father painted these himself. If you really want to know about them you should go ask him. You’ll find him in his study.” There was a distinct tone of sadness in her voice.

Falcon rushed out of the cabin, eager to find the one man who could put his questions to rest. He found him in his office just as Faith said. Aya and Sheridan were also there evaluating construction plans.

“I want to know about the oil paintings,” Falcon blurted out. “The ones with me and my family. Where did you get them?”

The mayor looked up. He did not seem the least surprised by the question, almost as if he’d been expecting it. Aya and Sheridan, on the other hand, gawked at Falcon with mouths wide open.

“What in the world are you talking about?” asked Sheridan. Falcon took a minute to explain to them what he had seen. The mayor sat back and listened without saying a word.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask me about those paintings,” said Seth. “I was beginning to think you were going to leave without remembering.” He rubbed his head. “The truth is I painted those portraits of you and your family, just as I have done for countless other Asturian families over the last sixty-seven years.”

“That can’t be!”

“Can’t be, you say, and why not? Think about it. How would I know Shal-Volcseck took your parents when you were but a child? How would I know your parents’ names were Anson and Lucinda? Your brother’s name was Albert.” Falcon remained quiet, unable to speak. “Think back to what I told you about Shal-Volcseck. My daughter was only seven when he came for her the first time, and you are one year older than her.” The mayor stared deep into Falcon’s eyes. “How old were you when that monster took your parents from you?”

“Eight,” Falcon half whispered, half mumbled.

“Now do you understand? You were born in Asturia. You spent your childhood here, and it was also here where you lost your parents.”

A silence descended on the room. Falcon struggled to make sense of what he had heard. A week ago he would not be able to locate Asturia on a map, and now he was supposed to accept he grew up here?

“What can you tell me about them?” said Falcon, eager for any information on the parents he hardly knew. “What were they like? Were they good people?”

“They were good people indeed, and dear friends. Not one day passes when I don’t miss their company. Your father was one of the most honorable men I have ever known, and your mother, one of the kindest.” The Mayor’s voice strained with anguish. “You two meant the world to them. That is why it saddened me to hear about Albert’s passing.” The mayor wiped away a tear. “I never believed those crimes they brought up against him. No son raised with the morals instilled by Anson would resort to treachery.”

Falcon struggled with his emotions. Every word bought the threat of tears, though he managed to hold them back. For the past few years he had thought that only he and K’ran believed in Albert’s innocence. To hear someone else express the same beliefs felt liberating.

“When I first saw you I knew you looked familiar,” said the mayor. “But I couldn’t figure out from where. In my old age my sight isn’t what it used to be. Then you told me your name and I knew. My daughter, on the other hand, recognized you as soon as you stepped foot in the village.”

Falcon turned a shade of red. “Thanks for the information, sir. You have told me more than I could have ever hoped to know.”

“I can do more than tell you. I can show you.”

“Show me? How?”

“I’m a mind wielder, young man. Don’t you remember? I can awaken the memories you have obviously forgotten.”

“Hey, hold it right there,” interrupted Sheridan in his usual loud voice. “What’s to stop you from planting false memories in his head?”

“Sheridan, don’t you ever think before you blurt out rude comments?” scolded Aya. “Mind wielders can’t plant memories of the past.” 

“Right you are, young lady. While it is true that mind wielders can plant false illusions in people’s minds, we can only do so in the present. We cannot change memories from the past, only awaken them.” The mayor turned to Falcon. “You have suppressed everything of the time you spent in Asturia.”

“Why would something like that happen?” said Aya.

“Some people blank out painful periods of their lives. I’m certain that is what has happened in this situation. But like I said, there is a way for him to see what he has forgotten, but we will have to mind wield, and for many mind wielding can be a traumatizing event.”

“I’ll do it. Whatever it takes to remember my past, I’ll do.”

“Now, I warn you. I cannot control what you will see once I begin the mind wield. I can only open your memories. There are things you might find unpleasant. Do you still wish to continue?”

“Don’t worry about me, Mayor; I’m ready when you are.”

“As you wish. Take a seat, please.” Falcon did as Seth instructed. He rested his ancient hands on Falcon’s temples. Immediately a cold shudder ran through Falcon. It was uncomfortable, but not nearly as bad as he had imagined. He closed his eyes, and the next thing he knew he stood in a green prairie with dozens of other people. They sat on spread-out blankets, enjoying a family picnic. He again shuddered as a figure ran through him as if he weren’t there.

He was looking at himself, a much younger version. He appeared to be about four years old. Behind him a slim woman with kind eyes gave chase. Falcon’s heart leapt when he realized who it was: his mother.

“Mom,” he called after her, but she remained oblivious to his presence. In his excitement he’d forgotten he was nothing more than a ghost in this past world.

His mother caught the young version of him and flung him up in her arms, tickling his ribs. The laughter from mother and son echoed in his head, as everything turned dark….

He was transported to another time. He now stood behind his old home, on a small grassy field. The sun settled behind the mountain range and the air was filled with the scent of honeysuckle. Young Falcon watched his father hold a long broadsword, and young Albert a wooden spear. They both moved fluidly through a routine of parries and counters.

“Keep your head up while you strike, Albert,” ordered Anson. “Don’t ever take your eyes off your opponent.”

“Yes, sir,” said Albert, meeting his father’s gaze. 

It might just be an illusion, but Falcon realized this was the first time he had seen his brother in years. He looked so young, about twelve years old, but his natural skills were already apparent. Every attack was on point, and his movements with the spear were precise, even though it stood over twice his size. Seeing him again stirred up many unresolved emotions he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. “I want to train too,” cried out young Falcon, swinging a small wooden sword in circles.

His father studied him. “Not now, Falcon. I told you, I will teach you when you’re ready. Besides, you appear to have a visitor.”

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hyatt,” said a young girl with golden-brown hair and light green eyes. “Can Falcon come out and play?”

“Oh, may I, Father?” pleaded Falcon’s younger self.

“I see no harm in that, but don’t take too long, it’s almost dark.”

“Yes!” both children cried. They rushed out of the back gate toward the meadow beyond, giant smiles on their faces. Falcon couldn’t help but smile at seeing himself so happy as a child.

Darkness took hold of Falcon once again…

This time he was in a green meadow. The sun set on the horizon. The air was filled with the smell of wet grass. Before him his younger self and the girl with the golden-brown hair played.   

“You’re it,” she said, slapping her hand on his back. “Catch me if you can.” She took off running in a straight line.

“We’ll see,” said young Falcon through a series of laughs. “I’m going to get you.” They jumped, ran, and giggled as they took turns chasing each other.

Then the laughter abruptly stopped. Both children stood stock still, their attention riveted on a pillar of smoke that ascended from the village.

“Falcon…what’s going on?” asked the young girl. Her voice trembled. There was no answer. That’s when Falcon’s mother appeared on the horizon. She ran toward them, screaming. Falcon couldn’t make out the words. She looked bruised and battered. Streaks of red decorated her otherwise pristine blue dress.

“Thank goodness you’re both well,” she cried when she reached them.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“There’s no time to explain, you have to listen to me, run and hide.”

“Mom, you’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be frightened, remember what you told me?” The boy met his mother’s eyes. “You said you’d be my brave little warrior. Be brave for me now. Crouch behind those bushes, and no matter what happens, do not come out or make a noise.”

“No, Mother,” sobbed young Falcon. “I will protect you.”

“Be a good boy and listen to me.” She turned her attention to the green-eyed girl. “You too, honey. No matter what you see or hear, do not come out of your hiding spot.”

Both children reluctantly followed orders.

No sooner had they hid behind the giant bush of dull-green leaves, a silhouette appeared in the distance. A second later the figure stood in front of them, grasping his mother by the neck. Falcon recognized the power. It was the ability of teleportation that only chaos wielders could wield. Shal-Volcseck.

“Where is it?” he asked, holding Falcon’s mother up in the air. “Don’t lie to me. I sense the holy wielder is close.”

Falcon’s mother struggled to speak. “It’s me. I’m the holy wielder…do what you want with me, but leave the village alone.”

“You?” questioned the chaos lord. “I have no need for you, just your emblem.” As he spoke a long thin sword materialized in his free hand. He drove the weapon through her stomach as he grasped the emblem from her glove. Falcon couldn’t see his face behind the dark hood, but somehow he knew Volcseck was smiling.

“Leave her alone!” shouted Falcon, charging at the hooded figure. His hand went through Volcseck as if he were a ghost. He fell to the ground defeated, powerless to change the events that had transpired long ago.

Then, just as soon as it began, it ended. A teleportation later, the chaos lord was gone, as if he had never been there. A low ominous howling of the wind was all that remained. 

Falcon lay on the ground, unable to move as he looked upon his mother’s slight form lying on the wet grass. The younger version of him crept out from behind the bush. The girl followed him.

“Mom?” asked a trembling young Falcon.

“Falcon,” came her weak response. “You’re well, Where’s Faith? Is she safe?”

“Yes, she’s right here,” he answered, laying his head on her chest. Tears ran down his cheeks.

Falcon looked at the little girl.
Of course. How did I not see it earlier?
The golden-brown hair, the small nose, those sparkling green eyes; the little girl was Faith.

“Mom, you’re not a wielder,” sobbed young Falcon. “Why did you tell him you were? Why did you have a fake emblem…why? He wouldn’t have attacked if you hadn’t.”

She rested a finger on his lips. “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices…” she gasped for air, “…for those you love.” She grasped Faith’s hand, who was on her knees beside her, and set it on Falcon’s hand. “You have to watch out for her and protect her, do you understand, Falcon?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Keep her safe and don’t forget, I love you, my little warrior….” Her lips stopped moving as the glimmer of light she had carried throughout her life left her.

A veil of darkness overtook him…

Falcon wasn’t sure how much time passed, but judging from the burnt buildings it couldn’t have been more than a few days after the attack.

Shrouded by night, two dark figures crept toward the outskirts of Asturia. At first he didn’t know who they were, but after moving closer he recognized them as the younger versions of himself and Albert. They were locked in an altercation.