Authors: Pedro Urvi
You…
You not worthy…
You of ancient blood…
But not pure…
Do not fool…
Me Temple Guardian…
Temple of Air…
Holy Temple…
Great King rest…
You insult Lord of the Air…
You fool…
You die…
All die…
“No, please! We just want to get out of here, the medallion acts of its own will. I didn’t try to fool you. You have to believe me! I swear it by the holiest, our Mother Steppe! May the evil spirits take me if I lie!”
The Guardian went back to casting the spell. The swirls began to change color, turning from a cloudy white to a nightmarish black, like that of a moonless winter night. Iruki felt an intense fear. She could not understand what was happening, but it was a bad omen.
“What’s going on?” asked Sonea. There was shock in her voice. “What’s he doing to us?”
“I pray to the Pure Light that this may not be our end, and that we may witness a new day,” Lindaro muttered in terror.
“Hold fast!” cried Iruki, trying in vain to instill courage in them.
The whirlwind which enveloped her was now so dark she could not see around her. The blackness absorbed her completely, penetrating her body and mind as if it were some evil, pestilent essence.
And she lost consciousness.
Iruki woke up with a terrible headache. Her sight failed her and everything around her was hazy and incoherent. Where was she? What had happened? The Masig had no idea, her mind could not remember exactly what had gone on before. Her head was torturing her and nothing was clear. She got to her feet with difficulty and tried to focus. She found she was on a long, narrow bridge of rope and wood, which began to sway as she stood up. She immediately reached for the rope guide. The bridge was so narrow that only one person could stand on it at a time. Fear returned with the swaying, the structure did not seem at all robust. She looked ahead, but could not make out what was at the end of the bridge. She half-turned and looked behind, but it was the same.
Am I losing my mind? What’s going on? I can’t see what’s ahead of me. But I should be able to, it’s not so far and there’s nothing between it and my eyes…
A voice reached her ears. She looked ahead and recognized the voice of her beloved father, the scene became clear before her: her father in his Masig tent, lying in his bed, very sick. He was calling her name amid the hallucinations the high fever gave him.
“Iruki… Iruki…” His voice sounded broken, dying.
Iruki’s heart nearly broke from the pain of it, and she burst into inconsolable tears. She reached for the leather pouch at her belt and checked that she still had the Sky Weed with her.
“I have it, father! You’ll be all right, I have the cure!” she cried. She felt guilt as great as the very Fountain of Life itself. “I couldn’t bring them to you before, I was… fleeing… I was… trapped…” But the pain of not being there, with her father, was tearing her soul apart.
“Iruki…” the dying leader of the Blue Clouds called again.
“I’m coming, father. I have the cure!”
At that very moment, just as she was about to run to her father, she heard the muffled voice of Yakumo behind her.
“Iruki…”
She turned round and saw her beloved lying on the ground, badly wounded, on the other side of the bridge. He was bleeding massively from a terrible wound in his stomach.
“No! Yakumo!” she cried desperately. She realized he was going to bleed to death.
Iruki howled to the wind, powerless in the face of the situation. Her heart and soul were tearing her apart.
I have to save them! They can’t die! I can’t let them die like this for my sake! But she could not decide which of them to save. She knew without doubt that the one she ran to first would be saved, but the other would perish. Iruki’s suffering made her feel as if she had been tied to two horses which were pulling her in opposite directions. She loved both men so much that she could not breathe.
I’m suffocating, I have no air. I won’t be able to save them!
She made a final, desperate effort to breathe, but the air never reached her lungs.
When Yakumo woke up, he immediately focused all his senses on grasping what was happening around him. He set himself on full alert, trying in spite of the pain of his various wounds to identify any danger close at hand. Nothing. He could not feel anything that threatened his life. He looked around, knowing he was in a familiar landscape and that for some reason it was not one he loved. Everything was hazy. He shook his head, trying to remember what had happened and why his body hurt so badly.
“It’s been a long time,” a rough, sibilant voice said behind him.
Yakumo turned round and found himself face to face with his Lord and Master. The landscape around him finally became clear, and he recognized where he was. He was in the Hidden Temple. That was where his Gift and soul had been forged by hot iron and blood, to serve his masters blindly, to carry death wherever it was needed without hesitation. Many were the memories of suffering and agony which that place aroused in Yakumo. His soul sank as he remembered them.
Yakumo knelt before his lord. “My Lord and Master.”
“Young Assassin of the shadows,” replied his Master. His voice was rough and deadly.
Yakumo stared at his lord. He had not aged a single day. There was the same cold look in his face which showed the same constrained and yet endless hatred.
“Who am I?”
“Life and death, Master,” Yakumo replied, submissive.
“It pleases me to know you are still faithful to my teachings. I would not wish you to lose your head here today.”
“I’m still faithful, Master.” Yakumo knew if he said otherwise he would be killed on the spot. He could feel several eyes fixed on his back. One word out of place, one wrong gesture and they would jump on him. He would not survive.
“My old heart rejoices to find you still alive,” the Master said with an evil smile.
“Thank you, Lord and Master. So does mine at finding you in good health,” Yakumo lied warily.
“Did you fulfill your last assignment?”
“Yes, Master, I did. I murdered the one I was ordered to. That is the doctrine of the Dark Assassin, the death of the adversary in success, death in failure.”
“I am pleased to hear that. You remember well the punishment associated with failure to fulfill your doctrine.”
Yakumo nodded. “Torture and suffering till death.”
“Why are you here today?”
But Yakumo did not know either the reason for his being there, before his Master, or how he had come there. He could not remember anything from his immediate past.
“I don’t… wish to continue on… this path,” was the only thing he eventually mumbled without really knowing why.
“This is the path of the Dark Assassin and once you begin to walk it, it cannot be abandoned. You know the doctrine well, young Assassin.”
Risking sudden death, Yakumo said: “I don’t wish to rob more lives…”
He watched his Master, waiting for the signal for them to jump on him. But the Master’s gaze was one of intrigue.
“And to what do you owe this change of heart?”
Yakumo did not wish to confess that the reason why he wanted to leave everything and begin anew to redeem his sins was Iruki —the woman he loved even more than life itself and without whom he did not wish to go on living or would even be able to.
“I don’t wish to continue on the path of bringing death to others.”
“It’s rather late for you now, Assassin.”
“Yes, Master. But I wish to begin a new life and redeem my sins.”
“Do not think, young Assassin, that I cannot read what your heart desires. The woman you yearn for and for whom you risk your life here today… I see her.”
Yakumo tensed. How could he know it? Anyway it did not matter, he just had to go on. He could not go back on his words.
“I need your blessing, Master.”
“Do you really believe yourself worthy of that woman, Assassin? Your heart is as black as mine… Your soul is condemned just as mine. Nothing you try will ever redeem you. You have killed many times. You have robbed the lives of good, honest men. Nothing you may try now will bring life back to them or repair the broken hearts of their wives and children. You have caused suffering of such magnitude that it will never be redeemed. Your soul cannot be saved, your heart will forever be black as a moonless night. Once the first blood is shed, the soul is condemned forever. You will never be free of the price that must be paid.”
“I must try! Even though I never become worthy of her.”
“Listen to the sound of your words, and in them you will find the answer you seek. Do you really believe you will ever be redeemed, that you’ll ever be worthy of her?”
Yakumo remained thoughtful. As much as he might wish it, he was aware with growing clarity that it was impossible. Thinking it made the illusion possible, but saying the words out loud made them unbelievable. With heavy heart he began to realize his Master was right, he would never manage it; he was an Assassin with a condemned soul. The pain of losing her was tearing him apart, and he could not breathe. The more he thought about losing her the more he suffocated, the greater his anguish. He looked at his Master, who was smiling at him. It was an evil smile, filled with an abysmal hatred. And the air did not reach his lungs.
Lindaro woke up dizzy, without any clue as to where he was. He was lost and disoriented. Everything around him was blurred, dark and menacing. A howling wind ruffled his hair and a sense of helplessness engulfed him. His lively spirits began to subside as his feeling of uncertainty grew. He tried to calm himself but he could not remember anything of what had happened, or where he was and how he had got there. However much he looked around him, all he succeeded in doing was to lose himself in the cloudy darkness around him, which only served to make him even more uneasy.
All-powerful Light that lights up all with your goodness, I beg you to guide this humble servant of yours in this moment of darkness and loss
.
A strong gust of wind hit him from the side, so that he almost fell. Lindaro felt a pang of fear and tried to hold on to something but there was nothing around him but darkness
. What’s happening to me? Where am I? Is this some kind of purgatory I have to go through? If it is, it must mean I’m dead…
Another gust, even stronger than the last, hit him from the opposite side and threw him to the floor. The darkness itself was attacking him. The feeling of despair flooded his soul, and he felt as defenseless as a child.
Why this punishment, oh Light? What have I done wrong? In what way have I strayed from your path?
Darkness enveloped him completely, and terror overcame his body and soul.
Two lights began to shine in front of him, one was white and luminous, the other golden and attractive. Lindaro watched them grow until they became two scenes taking place before his frightened eyes. The powerful whitish light showed him the image of the Temple of Light in Ocorum where his brothers of the Order were at prayer. Lindaro’s heart began to fill with serenity and peace. He stretched his hand towards them, trying to reach the quiet his soul needed, the quiet provided for him by his Order. The golden light shone with the strength of the sun, and Lindaro saw Sonea in front of a great mural with an enigmatic Ilenian hieroglyph engraved on it. The librarian was studying the symbols with an Ilenian grimoire in her hand trying to decipher them. The image filled him with joy, interest and excitement.
Then Abbot Dian appeared between both images and opened his arms. He looked to right and left, then finally at Lindaro.
Then the young priest understood the meaning of the test. He had to choose between the Light and the Ilenians: his two passions, his two obsessions. But he could not choose, they both gave him so much… both of them filled his soul with joy in different ways. He did not want the one without the other. He could not choose.
“Do not make me choose. Allow me to follow both paths, I beg you.”
The abbot shook his head.
“But I won’t be happy that way,” Lindaro begged.
And while his soul debated, unable to make a choice, he began to feel a terrible anxiety. The air began to turn thinner. He put his hand to his throat and tried to breathe, but there was no air to inhale.
I’m suffocating… I’m dying…
Sonea woke up and jumped to her feet. Everything around her was blurred and blackish. Her tireless mind interpreted the situation as unnatural and probably dangerous. She tried to rationalize what had happened, as was her custom, but for some reason she could not remember anything. This made her suspicious.
Not remembering what has happened to me and these weird surroundings tell me I’m in a complicated situation…
She heard a noise behind her and turned quickly. To her great surprise, Grand Master Lugobrus appeared out of the dark fog. His face was somber, his attitude threatening.