After they walked for some time without incident, Nijal finally dared to break the silence. He whispered to Vilmos, “Why don’t we just do that illusion thing again and walk back through the city and get some horses?”
It took Vilmos a moment to snap out of his reverie and realize the voice had not emanated from his mind. “I don’t know, but that is a good question.” The two broke from their position in the middle of the group and dropped back to talk to Xith, who was taking up the rear position.
“Yes?” asked Xith quizzically when he saw them slow down so he would catch up to them. “We were wondering, why don’t we just disguise ourselves and go back to the city or somewhere and get horses?”
“The main reason is that Noman and I fear that it will give away our position and lead the dark forces to us.”
“But how?”
“Yes, how?”
“Shh. Remember back in the caves when I made the passage through the wall?”
“Yes, but what significance is that?”
“Noman and I long discussed how they had found us, and the only logical conclusion was the magic he and I used. There was no other way. Vilmos, you should understand. How does one use magic?”
“You reach back into the power of creation and guide it through your center.”
“Exactly, but if someone else also understood the workings of magic, they could detect where the energy was being focused, especially since an illusion requires constant guidance and continues for very long periods of time.”
“But I thought no one else could use magic?”
“Remember the dark forces that attacked the City of the Sky? Evil like that was created from the wild energies. They are closer to it. That is how they could detect it.” Xith had told a partial lie to Vilmos and Nijal, for which he was sorry. He convinced himself it was for the best, and by saying it aloud, it was also based partially on truth.
“How did you create the passage through the rocks? Is this not a good time to talk about it?”
“Oh, it is, all right. I was only lost a second in reflection. What are the two opposing forces in nature?”
“Positive and negative,” Vilmos answered.
“Yes, they are the very root of the two forces; the basis for all forms of opposition springs from these two forces. All things in nature contain and are joined by these forces. Some things are truly positive and others are truly negative like raw energy in its pure form. The rock of the wall is no exception to this rule. It, too, contains the energy. To fully understand how the principle works, you must also know that all things are created from the four basic elements: earth, water, fire and air. In all of these four groups, positive and negative exist in equal proportions. In the element earth, the other three elements must also exist to some extent, for it could not exist without its brothers in opposition; thus from the two very basic forms, positive and negative, stem the elements of earth, water, fire, and air. To walk through the stone of the wall, which belongs to the element earth, I relied on those other elements that exist within the stone, the air primarily. I opened the way and guided our friends through it to us.”
Many expressions passed across Vilmos’ face as comprehension came to him. Nijal’s expression remained one of perplexity. Xith smiled as he watched the two. He hadn’t expected Nijal to grasp the fullness of what he had said, but he had hoped that Vilmos would. He was most pleased with the results; Vilmos understood.
Vilmos and Nijal returned to their positions in the march, leaving Xith alone at the rear. Noman led them all through the long night. He was very thankful for the overcast skies that enshrouded their movements.
It was almost dawn when they reached a small town far along the northern road. He knew the farming town well. He had passed through here on many a dark night, ages before.
He stopped just short of the village and allowed the others to catch up to him. “We shall rest here for a time. Hopefully, we will be able to get horses and leave just short of nightfall. When we reach the inn, allow Xith and me to do all the talking and follow our lead. We are mercenaries heading to the Barrens. Vilmos, it was you who lost our mounts through carelessness. Do not worry. They will see Adrina as our baggage, nothing more. Remember, mercenaries are a loud lot. We must act the part. We will go to our rooms; I will go last. Amir, you will bring Adrina up to the rooms immediately and remain there.”
They all nodded agreement. Noman closed his eyes and formed a picture in his mind. He wasn’t surprised that the local inn still stood in the same place along the tiny dirt road. They entered, following Noman’s lead of grumbling and complaining about sore feet and the like.
Noman dumped some coins on the innkeeper’s counter and demanded some rooms for him and his companions. Amir followed Noman’s instructions and went upstairs to the rooms the innkeeper had given them. “And give me four tankards of ale and something to eat—quickly!” said Noman, taking a seat at the nearest table.
Vilmos had never had ale before. He wondered if he would like it; nonetheless, he was looking forward to trying it. The innkeeper soon brought over four steaming pints. “Nothing like warm ale to put me to sleep!” bellowed Xith. He and Noman toasted and brought the tankards to their lips. “Ahh!” they both said at once, setting down the empty containers.
“Stew and bread is all I have at this hour,” said the innkeeper as he placed four large bowls of stew and some chunks of bread on the table. No one offered any complaints as they eagerly ate the food. It didn’t matter if it was tasty or not, just as long as it was warm and filling.
Vilmos was the first to finish eating. He sponged up the remainder in his bowl with some bread and reached for his tankard, only to find it missing. Xith winked at him and slurped the drink down loudly. “You will learn soon, lad,” said Xith, burping and leaving the table.
Vilmos dejectedly stared into the mug. He was surprised to find it still contained some ale. He smiled broadly and drank it quickly. It had indeed tasted good. A warming sensation swept over him, and he felt sleepy. He decided that he did like ale, very much so. He retired a few minutes after Xith had.
Nijal and Noman finished their stew and ordered another round of drink. The second glass went down as smoothly as the first had. The two stomped heavily up the stairs slightly before the first lights of morning appeared.
A chill swept over Vilmos. He awoke cold and frightened. All thoughts of sleep were scattered into the coolness of the air. The dreams had returned again with increased intensity. They ran through all the corridors of his mind. He could not escape their wrath.
He cradled himself tightly, easing away his inner shivers. He looked around the room. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness before he could see. No one else was in the room with him. He was alone.
Alone, he confronted the wildness in his mind retrospectively. He closed his eyes and focused on his inner self. He found his center; it could not be denied him. He remembered the lessons Xith had taught him. They seemed like distant memories as he replayed them in his mind.
He saw the conquest of his self from the two. He saw them through the eyes of another, though they were his own. He saw what he had become, what he was.
The battle of the City of the Sky exploded through his soul. The vision ended with the fall of the two, first sons of the Father. They had left his dreams. They were only memories. They existed no longer. Once the summation overtook him, his mind became his own. He had succeeded in controlling the power within. It retreated into the recesses of his intellect.
Vilmos forced his eyes open. As he focused the blurriness away, he thought he saw someone standing before him, a large, hulking figure with a golden locket in his outstretched hand, but when his eyes cleared, there was no one there. He was still alone.
He wondered what time it was. Was it day or night? He felt as if he had slept forever, so it must be night. “But where is everyone?” he asked himself, standing and looking for a window. He found it and pulled back the curtain. It was pitch-black dark out.
“Damn, I wish I could see something,” whispered Vilmos. The lamp near his bed blazed alight. He whirled around and stared at it. It had lit by itself. “Strange,” thought Vilmos.
He stood there staring at it, wondering how it had happened. “Off,” he whispered and the lamplight dimmed and was gone. He laughed loudly, darkly, to himself. “On!” The lamp blazed again. He played with it for a time, lighting it, extinguishing it, back and forth.
Something inside him enjoyed the tiny display of power. Vilmos knew what the something was and forced his mind to quit. It was only then that he came to fully understand how he had subconsciously lit the lamp. He remembered well the skill that Xith had taught him.
He had unknowingly divided his thoughts. All his concentration had been trained on his dilemma. Lighting the lamp required no concentration, so it required little thought. Now that he understood how he could do it, it didn’t frighten him so much.
“Wait a minute!” he yelled within. His cogitations were playing tricks on him. As he screamed, all thought came to an abrupt halt. It was then that Vilmos noticed that he had been levitating off the floor because he fell heavily along with all the furniture in the room.
The crash resounded throughout the room. The door opened quickly and Xith, followed by Amir and Nijal, ran into the room. Amir had his blade drawn and cast his eyes frantically back and forth. “Everything is all right. I just fell out of bed,” said Vilmos rubbing his head. Seeing Xith’s steely stare, Vilmos quickly added, “Yeah, and I hit my head on the corner table and it fell over too. What time is it anyway?”
“Late afternoon.”
“Afternoon? Why is it so dark out?”
“The windows are coaled over.”
“Oh, why did you let me sleep, if you are all awake?”
“You ask too many questions. Come on, there is food in the other room.”
“Great! I am famished.”
Vilmos wolfed down two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread before he stopped and caught his breath. He washed it down with a large mug of watered ale. “Yuck!” said Vilmos as he emptied the tankard, “More water than ale.” Xith smiled and said, “It is the drink afternoons are made of so one can continue to drink in the evening.” “Oh,” responded Vilmos, pretending to understand, though he really hadn’t.
Nijal and Amir returned to their swordplay. Amir was teaching Nijal how to defend himself better. “You see, your attack is good, very good, but you constantly leave yourself open,” said Amir parrying and thrusting. His blade stopped just short of Nijal’s belly. “No man can keep up with your speed, Amir,” pleaded Nijal.
“No man, indeed!” exclaimed Amir, looking to his ancient compatriot. “Speed isn’t everything; skill is.”
Vilmos watched the two with amusement for a time and then became bored. He let his attention wander to Xith and Noman. They were in the opposite corner of the quarters, talking quietly. Adrina lay in the bed nearest to them. She appeared so pale and lifeless, thought Vilmos. He felt sorrow for her.
Vilmos joined Xith and Noman. They were so heavily engaged in conversation that they barely registered his presence. He sat with them for a spell and listened. The topic of their words was lost on him; all his attention was somewhere else.
He turned and peered at Adrina’s form. Unconsciously, he stood and walked over to her. He sat beside her on the bed. Her warmth reassured him; she was indeed alive.
Vilmos took one of her hands in his two and held it. A tear rolled down his cheek. He pictured the other who had died to save her. To Vilmos, they were both so beautiful and pure. He hated those who had attacked them. He loathed them with all that he was. He wished Adrina were conscious and well again.
He brought her hand to his cheek. The water of his tears touched her hand. Vilmos took her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, then stood and walked away from her.
He went back to watch Amir and Nijal. They were still hacking at each other. Nijal was clearly exhausted; Amir had barely broken a sweat. As Vilmos watched, he could see the frustrations build up in Nijal. He could also see that Nijal’s swordplay was improving.
Amir also saw the improvements in Nijal and continued to pummel Nijal’s senses. Although Nijal’s energy was spent, still he would not quit. He had never been one to give up. Only determination maintained the movement of his arm, his blade blocking and striking.
“Your power is your persistence, my friend. It is good,” stated Amir. He held his blade outward and still. “We shall rest now.”
“Good. I’m tired,” said Nijal sheathing his sword. He wearily sat next to Vilmos, toweling the sweat from his body with his tunic. Amir seated himself across from Nijal and Vilmos with a pleased expression on his face.
“I am starving!” said a sweet voice behind them. All eyes in the room turned to look astounded to the source of the voice, with one exception. Vilmos didn’t look, because he wasn’t surprised. He knew this would happen. He had wanted it to happen.
Adrina brushed the sleep from her eyes, sat up, and yawned. “Where are we? Am I home?” Her eyes cleared; and as she searched around the room, she knew she wasn’t home. “What happened?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear.
“Everything is just fine. Here, eat this, Adrina,” offered Noman. He watched her devour the food before he told her anything further. “You do not recollect what occurred? The tunnel, the attack.”
“No. I remember Galan; where is she? Is she all right?”
“The ‘Little One’ has passed.”
“No! It cannot be!” yelled Adrina throwing the bowl to the floor and jumping out of bed. Noman was quick to catch her as her leg collapsed under her weight. Noman placed her gently back onto the bed.
Her screams renewed as she looked down at her broken leg. “Where is she? Oh, my leg, it hurts,” she cried pitifully. It was then that she noticed the pain in her crumpled hand also. Her tears increased in velocity as they streamed down her face.
“She has passed, Adrina. She has fulfilled her service. She rests with the Great-Father now, in peace.”
Adrina didn’t offer a reply. She wept in silence, her tears for a lost friend. With her good hand, she absent-mindedly rubbed the dragon mark on her stomach, the food had settled warmly. “Will it be all right?” she said suddenly, wildly.
“Yes, rest easy.”
“The pain. It will not go. Please help me,” Adrina cried out.
Vilmos could not take her cries any longer. He ran over to the bed where she lay. Without hesitation or thought, he touched her leg with his hands. He ran them along her leg from toe to hip back and forth. Adrina’s screams of agony intensified. “Stop, Stop!” she yelled.
“Vilmos, stop! You’re hurting her. Stop,” Noman, Xith, Nijal and Amir urged. Vilmos did not heed their pleas. He continued his actions. Noman attempted to pull Vilmos away, but he could not. Vilmos knocked him to the ground.
Noman stood, and together he and Xith grabbed Vilmos and tried to force him away from Adrina, but could not. Vilmos latched on to Adrina even tighter as they sought to pry him away. Amir and Nijal ran across the room. Nijal leapt upon Vilmos and knocked him sprawling to the floor.
Vilmos rolled and knocked Nijal from on top of him. He stood and reached for Adrina. He grabbed her broken hand in his and caressed it. Amir gripped Vilmos by the waist with both hands and swung him high in the air with his mighty arms until Vilmos was forced to release Adrina’s hand.
Amir carried Vilmos to the opposite side of the room and set him down on the floor. “Are you mad?” he asked. For an instant Vilmos cowered from Amir’s towering form, then he stood. His eyes were wild and staring. His body shook convulsively. “You dare to interfere with me? You shall pay for this quite dearly.”
Amir watched Vilmos, quite confounded. He was unsure what to do. The others rushed over to his assistance. They all stood and watched. “You dare to interfere?” Vilmos repeated. “Watch!” he exclaimed. He created a bolt of white energy between his hands. It flashed so brightly that they shielded their eyes from it. The light even hurt Amir’s senses in a way he could not understand. Xith took a step towards Vilmos. “Don’t move again, old man!”
“Vilmos, it is I, Xith. Don’t do this. Find the control and use it; don’t let it control you.”
“Me?” interrupted Vilmos. “Don’t let it control me? It does not. I control it, you foolish old man. Watch, as your paltry comprehension of the forces of nature are torn asunder.”
In his left hand a blazing blue light glowed. It danced around his fingers. His right hand was consumed by swirls of red energy. “You see, teacher. On this hand we have positive; on this we have negative,” said Vilmos madly.
“Vilmos, don’t!”
“Don’t what? Do this?” cackled Vilmos bringing his hands together. The others gripped themselves for the end they knew would come when Vilmos joined the two forces. The end did not come.
They watched in amazed horror as the two forces dazzled in unison all around Vilmos’ hands. The energy spread to his arms and body. It seemed to grow with each passing second until it consumed all of Vilmos, save for his face.
“Vilmos, it is me, Nijal, your friend. Don’t do this, please. I beg you.”
“Vilmos, you know not what you do! You must stop!”
“It is too late to stop; even you know this, teacher. I now know why you came. Do you think I am a fool? I know why you came. I know all the lies you have told me. I know all the answers to the questions that you would not tell me. What you have feared has already happened. I have learned from the past. I am more than you could ever understand. I am neither man nor god. I am not dead, nor am I alive. I shall outlast time, for I am not in time. I am not held by its boundaries as you are. Even Dalphan or Rapir would fear me though both would have welcomed their creation. Nor do the Father or Mother hold domain over me. I am outside their reach. The Father will kneel and worship me. The Mother will be my—”
“Never!” swore Xith as he jumped upon Vilmos. A tremendous explosion rocked the room. The sounds of hideous laughter resounded from the walls, then all was quiet. Darkness fell over the room for an instant, then the windows shattered outwards. The light of the waning day poured in. When the haze cleared, only Xith lay dazed on the floor; there were no signs of Vilmos.
“Where did he go?” yelled Adrina. She lay in bed, afraid to move. “Is everyone all right?”
“Yes, Xith will be fine in a moment.”
Xith stood and shook his queasiness away. Amir and Noman helped him walk to the nearby bed opposite Adrina’s. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, “I’m just a little dizzy that’s all.”
A loud knock sounded at the door. “Open up this instant. Are you tearing apart my inn?”
Noman answered through the door, “Just a little disagreement between my associates. You needn’t worry about them any longer.”
“I heard something break.”
“Yes, yes. We will pay for all the damages. Don’t worry. Now leave us in peace!”
They heard the innkeeper walk slowly away, stopping every couple of steps to turn and listen for more noise. Noman sighed in relief. “Come, we must leave now! The stables are just down the road. I have already purchased the horses. Let’s go. Adrina, are you okay to travel?”
“Yes, the pain is gone. It’s funny. My leg tingles.”
“Tingles? Can you move it? Try slowly.”
Adrina gritted her teeth in preparation for the pain and flexed her leg muscles. The pain did not come. She reached down and rubbed it methodically. The others stared at her, wide-eyed, as she did it. She was using both hands to rub her leg. She felt no pain in the hand that had a short while before been forever rendered useless.
She stood and tested the leg. It was perfect, as if it had never been broken. In glee, she performed a little dance, around and around in a circle she danced, laughing and smiling the entire time.
Xith turned and whispered to Noman, “Well, at least we can go straight to our destination. No place will be safe now, and in the end, none will prove safer.”
“Yes, I am so foolish. I should have seen this coming. You know he will return.”
“Of that I am certain.”