The Burden of the Protector (10 page)

My strength has all but left me. Getting out of bed is a chore in itself, although once on my feet, I tend to be able to go on for a few hours. Until now, I had not questioned these sudden weaknesses. Why should I? After all, I am now sixty. It is to be expected, the proper way to pass…

But since starting to put these words on paper, I have tried hard to analyze, to see beyond the veil. That is what Vìr would have wanted me to do. That is the only thing he ever asked for, with the exception of these records.

“Dàr, my friend,” he would say, “do not take my words to be the truth. Do not take anyone’s words to be the sole truth. Think. Question. Learn. And then, only then, see.”

So I stopped discarding the signs sent to me by my own body. I am sixty, true, but something didn’t feel right. Something still doesn’t. I can feel it in my bones, crawling under my skin…a deep burning and a wrongness. My vigour went away too rapidly or, dare I say, conveniently.

Why sixty?

Why is it that all of us, Taénians, fade away so suddenly, at the very same age, inside a period of a few months? If one takes but a moment to observe any other living creature, be it a dog, a cat, or a horse, or any wild creature, it is striking to see the diversity of the end, how it varies from months to years. It seems that Taénians pass away quite…unnaturally.

I have no proof of this. Just an undeniable and strong instinct that I am correct. Please, read these next words carefully and heed the warning. If there is fact here, do what it takes to stop it.

This weakness that is now affecting me, that has been affecting me for the past weeks, is abnormal.

I believe that I am being poisoned.

That I am being killed.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

In Ta’Énia, we all are, when we reach sixty.

*

It must be something in the food or the water. I do not know. But I am a prisoner here, easy prey.

It is probably too late now. For me.

Still, from now until the end, I will not eat, nor drink, in the hope that some of my strength will return, helping me to complete this recounting.

More than before, I need to finish this manuscript. Somebody needs to know. I need to find someone, anyone, to take it out of Ta’Énia.

But with Sia gone, I have no one.

*

Shading 27, year 3001, Dàr is 60.

I have decided to talk to the one person I have left.

My son, Faron.

*

Darkening 3, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

I was not privy to much information about Vìr and Maéva’s plan. I didn’t see Sia for two days. Then, she gave me directions to a location on the outskirts of Ta’Énia, to the east. It was not far outside the village, but situated in such a place as to be completely hidden, in the deep crevasse of a valley. She instructed me to prepare a stash of provisions and store it there. I brought some dry food, water, and some items required for travel in the wild. A knife, two warm blankets, a flint and steel, torches, bandages, two bowls, a bundle of arrows and a short bow, boots, and a few extra items of clothing All this I arranged in two backpacks.

While making these preparations, I didn’t get to see Vìr. It was too risky, and Eriéla was starting to be suspicious of my movements. It took me three more days before I returned to Vìr.

As I stepped inside the tunnel, I instantly had a bad premonition. Frightened, I hastened my pace until I was running. A poignant smell assailed my senses, a potent stench of vomit, urine, and feces.

I yelled Vìr’s name as I ran but got no reply. When I reached his cell, I found him lying facedown, a hand holding one of the bars of the door. I extended my arm, turned his face toward me. A low grunt escaped from his lips, but he didn’t move. Vomit ran down the side of his mouth, along his chin, down his neck.

“Hold on,” I told him, whispered in his ear. “Hang on, Vìr. My friend. Hold on. I will be back with help.”

I dashed out and tried to find Sia, walking rapidly through the village. I didn’t find her. Vìr’s condition was plaguing my every thought. I knew he wouldn’t last long. In my panic, I went to the only place I knew I would find help. I made my way to Maéva’s house.

The knight soldiers at Maéva’s place tried to stop me, but I evaded them, almost broke through the door.

I don’t remember the words I cried out to Maéva in my hysteria. Maybe that Vìr was sick or that he was dying. That he needed help. That I was sorry. Everything incomprehensible. I was silenced when Maéva slapped me hard. The pain awoke me and I noticed the soldier standing by the door, looking at me suspiciously.

“I thought you might want to know,” I added with what I hoped was an air of villainy. “Vìr is dead…”

I had my back to the soldier and I was desperately mouthing other words. “Help him”, I was pleading. “You have to help him.”

The distress on her face probably mirrored my own.

To appease the soldier, I knew I had to leave and return home. I could do nothing more.

*

How Maéva did it, I am not certain. That same night, I chanced going to the cave. I found it empty.

*

The next day and those following, I stayed away from the cave and from Maéva’s house. Everything was strangely normal in Ta’Énia, eerily normal. There was no way to know if the Sy’Iss knew about Vìr’s disappearance. The knights, protectors and soldiers, started to participate in regular training sessions, physical programs and friendly bouts.

In a turn of luck, I came across a peculiar object in the knights’ armoury during that period. Vìr’s famous sword. I bided my time and when opportunity arose, I spirited it away. I then decided to make my way to the hidden stash, which I was only able to accomplish at dusk a few days later. Again, I covered my activities with lies to Eriéla.

The stash was gone. This could only mean that Vìr was out and about. It gave me courage and hope. I hid the sword in the same location, hoping he would return and find it. If not, it was as safe a place as any.

The next days had me occupied in regular training sessions. I found some enjoyment in the archery rivalries but struggled with worry for Vìr. I knew he would not go away without Maéva. And she was well guarded and still restrained to her home, as far as I could tell.

Those days were some of the longest of my life. Waiting, not knowing where Vìr was. Yet I felt alive. I was part of something. It was wrong, all wrong, and yet so right. One morning, I stopped by the hidden stash. The sword was gone. I remember not being able to stop smiling.

Then, late one night, I returned home after a training day with Eriéla. We asked to be matched when possible, practicing swordplay and archery, challenging each other. The sun was long gone as I entered my house and made my way toward my bed. There I found a letter. I quickly looked around, inside and out, but could find no one. Knowing I was alone, with trembling fingers I opened the letter and read it under the weak flame of a candle.

My friend,

If you are still of the mind to help, we may yet make use of your assistance. If it is so, when sheets of rain fall in two days’ time, come to the bridge of Saril with the dawn.

If not, I will understand. This letter then becomes my farewell to you. Take care, my friend, and thank you for returning my blade.

Vìr

It was indeed Vìr’s signature. He would always sign the ì and r first, quickly, and finish with the V in a flourish. I imagined his hand putting the ink down and forming these precious words, as I had seen before in his house…

I sat down on my bed and struggled to stop tears from filling my eyes.

My friend, he had written.

*

Darkening 23, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

The rain was falling hard two days later, as predicted by Vìr. I awoke in darkness and made my way to the bridge. Ta’Énia was asleep, and the only sound was the constant clobbering of the rain. When I reached the bridge, no one was there. I made my way to one of the tall stone columns standing beside the bridge and put my back to it, trying to hide from the rain.

A hand grabbed me by the shoulder. It was a short man, an elder with a greyish beard, covered by a thick coat and a cape.

“Follow me,” he instructed over the rain.

We didn’t cross the bridge but went back toward Ta’Énia and made our way north. Far to the east, the sun was fighting the clouds, trying to bring light to the day but incapable of doing so. That day was to stay dark and grey.

The elder was moving surprisingly fast through trees, around bushes, up and down hills, until we reached a small, isolated habitation. It was dilapidated and almost falling down. The door was non-existent and we entered quickly. At least the roof was solid and kept the rain away.

My heart stopped as I saw a figure in a corner, sitting down. The figure looked my way, and I almost didn’t recognize him.

“He was poisoned,” said the elder beside me. “He cannot talk.”

It took me a moment to understand the implication of his words. I looked at the elder, saw him making signs to Vìr. I looked at Vìr. His face was extremely skinny, almost bony. A raspy noise came from his throat as he returned the signs. Breathing…simple breathing turned into torture every time air went to and from his lungs.

“It wasn’t me…” I murmured. “I…”

“He knows,” said the elder man. “And he is glad you were spared.”

Spared?

It then dawned on me that, indeed, it had been my doing.

The food!

I put a hand on the wall to keep myself from fainting. I suddenly felt sick, terribly sick. The world around me seemed to be crumbling. The Sy’Iss had known I was bringing the food and had used me… Bile and the taste of disgust floated in my throat.

“I left food,” I added quickly. “More food, with the equipment.”

“Do not worry,” said the elder. “We didn’t take it, but we kept the rest of what you left.”

My eyes darted from one to the other, but mostly I looked at Vìr. He made a few signs.

“He thanks you for the risks you took.”

I nodded, and then realized I had no idea who this elder was and where he had come from. He was certainly not a knight.

“Who are you?”

Vìr stood then.

“We have a very limited amount of time,” said the elder. “I am Naéd, a friend of Maéva and Vìr. I am a scholar of the League. One of the rare true scholars left, as it stands.”

Vìr took a few steps, put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Then he made a few signs. The elder asked him to repeat them, which Vìr did. I kept looking at his hands and how thin they were.

“Vìr apologizes and says we have to move. Are you still willing to help?”

I looked at Vìr, knew this was to be the last moment we would have together. I wanted to hug him, a gesture I had never made before. But I hesitated and the moment passed.

“I am,” I said and noticed that the curved sword was hanging on his belt.

*

We schemed and planned until dusk, although many details were not shared with me. It was understandable but frustrating. The plan could work without me, but if I succeeded in my responsibilities, the chances of success would improve greatly.

During the afternoon, Naéd and I had a brief moment alone, when I learned that it had taken Vìr more than ten days to recuperate from the toxin I had unknowingly fed him. Ten days of misery, nightmares, and agonizing pain. It was pure luck that I didn’t ingest some of the same substance. In some ways, I also owed it to Eriéla, as she kept insisting on spending her days with me. We often ate at the knights’ barracks or with her family.

Vìr survived. But he was never to be the same.

The wicked toxin had burned the inside of his mouth, blackened his tongue. Then it had attacked his throat. Naéd said that Vìr made it through those days without complaining, with an unflinching determination and optimism. Yet, in the end, it was too much even for him.

When he realized he had lost his voice, even Vìr, a giant among us, had crumpled and wept.

*

Vìr was gone, gone after Maéva. He would try to free her. I knew I would not see him again. Our farewell had been painfully brief.

“Are you certain?” asked Naéd.

I nodded, keeping a tight grip on my bow. I was standing in the doorway and looking outside, where Vìr had disappeared in the woods.

I disliked Naéd greatly. I was grateful for the help he was providing, but I disliked his relationship with Vìr, the trust they had built. It was jealousy. I also hated who he was: a member of the League. I respected the Sy’Iss but feared it more. Over the course of my life, I had learned to ignore the scholars as we crossed paths on the roads of Ta’Énia. To me, the Sy’Iss was an entity without a face, never a face. It was easier that way.

I looked at Naéd, a short figure with a small frame, and knew he couldn’t possibly hurt me. Still, I feared him. And hated him.

“Why are you helping him?” I challenged.

True, I had betrayed Vìr and was now helping him. Yet I couldn’t fathom a scholar doing the same thing, someone who was part of the organization responsible for putting Vìr away, for poisoning him, for trying to kill him.

Naéd didn’t reply right away. The rain was lighter. It had been a dark day, with a sun that had not shown up, nullified by thick clouds.

“Once, a very long time ago,” he started, “there was a tragedy and many a life was lost in the shadows of Ul Darak. A select few were chosen and sent to investigate. They founded Ta’Énia and started to study the region. They learned what they could, while warning wanderers of the dangers of the Borders. It was an honourable endeavour. It lasted for many, many years, and tangible progress was made. The scholars were from the League of A’ra and they formed a bond with the likes of you, knights of the realm. Those who dedicated their life to help the A’ra became the protectors. I am one of the rare who still believes that such harmony can be achieved and that we should learn of Ul Darak and try to understand it, instead of trembling at its feet. It is that very fear that grew and eventually created the divide.”