Fifthwind (42 page)

Madros
nodded. "By then, The Eleven all suspected that he was poisoned
with greed and that the pair intended to not only destroy The Core,
but to take their place as the ruling power of the land. There was no
longer any doubt among them that he sought power for himself. This
was something that they could not allow to happen, but none possessed
the power to stop him."

"But
they all held the same skills. Surely they could have stopped him."

Cobalius
shook his head, and continued where Madros had left off. "During
his time away, and with the help of the girl, Phaetalis had learned
to meld the ways of sorcery with the skills of the Fahd and had
tapped into enough power to advance his abilities to unnatural
levels. His hunger for magic corrupted his mind and body, changing
him. At the peak of his madness, they say his eyes would flash with a
terrible lightning from within. He was an abomination of forbidden
powers. He was now a sorcerer that held the ability to enter the
Witherscape. A feat that would make him invincible if he succeeded in
finding the source of the Fifthwind and harnessing it for himself.
The Fahd were no match for him."

"And
yet the Fahd survive to this day," said Ben.

Cobalius
nodded with a certain sadness. "They allowed Phaetalis and the girl
to weave the spell that would focus the Fifthwind into a permanent
connection that would heighten his power to godlike levels."

"Why
would they allow it?" asked Ben. "How could they allow that?"

"They
had no intention of letting him succeed. They knew that he would have
to leave his body and drift into the Witherscape to act as her eyes
and guide the weaving of that spell. It would be at that precise
moment that he would be vulnerable to attack."

Madros
said, "The Eleven pretended to approve of the casting; it was only
a matter of time before The Core discovered that the girl was back in
their midst and would make a move to reacquire her. Such a prize
would bring forth the most powerful among them. The Core would
destroy anything that stood between them and the tool they had taught
and nurtured for so long. Necessity dictated quick action."

Cobalius
said, "Phaetalis spent days without sleep or food as he wandered
the Witherscape, trying to find the exact spot of the Fifthwind's
origin, that singular place where magical energy bled from one world
into the next. In the hills north of Stonewall, he finally found the
rift he was looking for, a small tear in the fabric of the
Witherscape. Without wasting time, arrangements were made to begin
the ritual immediately.

"I've
been there. I've seen the statue of the girl," Ben said
matter-of-factly. It had not been all that long since he had visited
the spot in the woods where an ancient monument had been erected and
then forgotten for centuries. Vincent had explained that the place
was the origin of the Fifthwind. While there, he had felt its power
in everything around him.

Madros
held up a cautionary finger as if there were still something that Ben
did not understand and that he should listen carefully. Once he again
had Ben's attention, he continued.

"On
a cold day, high in the hills, The Eleven patiently waited while the
girl began the spell. With rehearsed precision, she gathered the
Fifthwind to her and continued to wrangle the energy in a tight ball
of concentration. For hours, she trembled in pain as she pulled more
and more energy into her grasp. She was glowing with white-hot fury
and the snow melted for hundreds of yards in every direction. After
several hours of effort, she could not collect any more, and held it
constrained within her own will, awaiting the guidance of Phaetalis
on how to direct it. Phaetalis quickly Drifted into the Witherscape
to provide that path to her. He would help her target the rift so
that she might tear the space between worlds open releasing the full
might of the Fifthwind to any ready to receive it. It was at that
precise moment that The Eleven struck out at Phaetalis and killed his
worldly body, leaving him to drift aimlessly in the Witherscape."

"Just
like that? Without any warning?" Ben cringed. "I understand that
it was necessary, that Phaetalis was going to betray them, but even
an enemy should be fought on level ground, face to face. It must have
been hard for men of dignity to do such a terrible thing."

Cobalius
sighed, "To be lost forever in the Witherscape is a fate worse than
death, and it pained them all to have doled such a horrible
punishment on a man who had once been as a brother to them. It was a
choice they had to make, a sentence they had to impose. Phaetalis was
gone, but it was the girl who would suffer. She was left holding the
Fifthwind in her grasp with no guidance on how to finish weaving the
spell safely."

Madros
spoke with a soft and compassionate tone, "For days, they watched
in horror, as she cried in pain trying to keep that power under her
control. There was nothing they could do to help her and she slowly
weakened and succumbed to the energy. Then, in a chaotic rush of
cataclysmic force, the Fifthwind tore free from her and ripped itself
from the roots of this world."

"The
Breaking of the Soul of the World!" Ben exclaimed. "It wasn't
planned. The Fifthwind died on that day by accident!"

Madros
said, "She did a horrible thing, but her intentions were pure. She
was young and naive and in love, and didn't know what Phaetalis
intended to do with the power once he received it. She was innocent
and blind to the whims of an ambitious man."

"What
became of her?"

Cobalius
bowed his head, his voice, remorseful. "The force of the Breaking
of the Soul was too much for her to withstand and she too was lost
forever. In a random flash of twisted, raw energy, the power of the
Fifthwind overtook her and turned her to stone. What you found in the
forest was no monument, it is the very site of an important event
that took place a thousand years ago. That statue is the eternal fate
of a young girl who surrendered herself to a forbidden love."

Madros
said, "With the Breaking of the Soul, the Fifthwind was crippled,
and The Core lost most of their power, as did The Eleven. Over the
next few years, the Murg's ranks thinned as the beasts slowly
diminished from a world that was now waning of the very magic that
was needed for their existence. Most of the sorcerers of The Core,
now powerless, were hunted down by angry citizens and killed. The few
that remained, went into hiding. It took years for the violence to
end, but eventually, and at a very heavy price, The Magus Core was
defeated."

Cobalius
moved to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard and looked back
toward the main shrine of Arlemon. "Afterwards, those eleven men
became known as The Fahd and they played an important role in
reshaping the future of the land. They used what little power they
had left to oversee the rebirth of Kreggoria. They offered law and
justice where there was none. They resolved conflicts and disputes in
the absence of leadership. They offered no allegiance, but they
helped foster support for a young and noble king. Though highly
respected by the people, they refused to become a force of
righteousness or morality. They were content to oversee peace and
prosperity, and ensure that rule did not fall into unworthy hands."

Madros
also stood and turned toward the shrine and with great reverence
said, "In the final days before the Fifthwind was lost forever, The
Fahd gathered here at Arlemon one last time, to write our Covenant.
Those five scrolls that you saw inside, are their legacy."

Ben
found himself both fascinated and worried about a single detail of
the story, "And Phaetalis... does he still wander the Witherscape?"

Cobalius
shrugged, "No one knows if it's possible to maintain any sense of
self for so long without a physical body. It's likely that he has
long since diminished or been devoured by the lurkers of the
Witherscape. But, many of us have encountered a shadowy entity within
the Witherscape that reeks of hate and vengeance."

Seeing
the worry in Ben's eyes, Cobalius almost laughed, "It's just
Superstition. By now, Phaetalis has surely been lost to the winds of
the Witherscape. It makes for a great fireside ghost story, nothing
more."

"But,
you can't know that for certain."

"No,
we cannot be sure, but he has no worldly body and can do little harm
even if he wished it."

They
left the quiet retreat of the garden and reentered the rotunda where
Ben looked upon the eleven statues of The Fahd with a newfound
respect. These eleven men had sacrificed everything to selflessly
preserve the freedoms of the common people, and their shrine was
forever hidden from the sight of those they had protected. Ben moved
to stand before the effigy of Fahd Morbis and felt very small in the
shadow of the long dead man. To think that he could even possibly try
to fill his shoes was humbling.

"I've
great admiration for you and your brothers," Ben said, "but, I'm
not sure I can follow such a high path. I'm not sure if I can make
that choice."

A
figure stepped out from behind the statue of Fahd Karthos. The man
was tall and handsome in a courtly fashion. He had shoulder length
white hair, and a simple thin mustache. His face was tanned but
unblemished, his features chiseled and hard. He wore a black cape
that swayed as he moved into the center of the rotunda, his gloved
hands cupped behind his back. Nobility poured from this man's very
presence.

He
briefly acknowledged Madros and then spoke with a deep and articulate
voice. "I am disappointed in you, Fahd Cobalius. You have not told
him of the consequences of such a decision."

"He
has not been asked to make the choice yet, Fahd Karthos. You know our
laws."

"And
yet he makes it clear what his decision will be. Do not lecture me on
our laws."

Ben
chanced a brief interruption. "Excuse me sir, Fahd Karthos. But
what consequences?"

Fahd
Karthos almost smiled but didn't. "We cannot allow those who
possess our skills to walk among the living and potentially
misrepresent us by anything less than our preferred standards.
Likewise, we cannot allow those who have not accepted our covenant to
grow into potential threats."

Ben
clearly understood what was being said. "If I do not choose to join
you, then you will kill me."

Karthos
answered dryly, "It's nothing personal."

Cobalius
stepped to Ben's side. "It isn't yet time for him to decide, he
hasn't faced his final test."

Fahd
Karthos said, "And if, when the time comes, he chooses poorly?"

Cobalius
took a moment before answering, but when he did, his voice was strong
and sure, "I will kill him myself."

Fahd
Karthos gave a slight bow from the waist. "I have heard much about
you Ben Karr, you are an admirable young man. Your skills are
impressive and, if you live, you will someday become a great asset to
our Brotherhood. You show much promise and I wish you luck." Fahd
Karthos again bowed from the waist, then vanished, leaving only a
small vortex of twirling dust where he once stood.

"Nice
fellow," Ben said with no attempt to hide his sarcasm.

Madros
smiled. "You will never meet a more honorable and dignified man for
as long as you shall live. Fahd Karthos offered you the great respect
of allowing you to know what you are faced with, something we do not
have to do." With that, Madros also departed with little more
effort than a simple step backward through a veil of shimmering air.

Ben
stood silent for several minutes, thinking of all he had been told
and all that he had witnessed in the last weeks. Finally, he turned
to Cobalius. "You'll really kill me, if I choose another life for
myself?"

Cobalius
kept his voice steady and firm. "What does your gut tell you?"

Ben
thought about it for a moment and concluded that this was not just
another '
Culling Stone
'. "My gut tells me that if it serves
the greater good, I'm a dead man. But, somehow I still don't think
you would do it."

"Choose
with an unburdened heart and you'll be fine... probably," Cobalius
said, his face was an unreadable mask. "There is still one last
thing you must do before you'll be confronted with that choice. One
last lesson before you face your final test. You must enter our
shrine and face the judgment of The Eleven."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Cobalius
leaned into the heavy door and pushed it open. The shrine was the
most elaborate structure in Arlemon, but also the smallest. It had
been built directly into the side of the mountain and looked as if it
had been exposed when time had weathered away the surrounding rock.
It flaunted near perfect stonework which was a testament to the skill
of its builders. Ben felt anxious as to what awaited him beyond the
door, in the Fahd's most consecrated place.

As
the door swung open, the light from outside raced around Ben and
Cobalius to brighten the small room with a dusty glow. There was no
furniture. No statues. No altar. In fact it lacked any hint of
opulence at all. The floor was polished marble and the walls were
smooth granite except for the rear wall which was the rough, rock
surface of the mountainside. There was nothing of particular interest
to see, and nothing to sit on anywhere in the space. It seemed to be
little more than an entrance hall that led up to a battered, wooden
door set into the face of the mountain.

"I
expected something else," Ben said. "I'm not sure what... but it
wasn't this."

Cobalius
kept his voice soft and reverent. "The shrine is through that door.
Do not expect much; it was not built to impress visitors. This place
is sacred to us."