fantasy mythology

Lura Syllana

I spend the next several days reading and rereading the book, trying to puzzle out the notes, and doing a lot of chores required for my hours. I knocked out quite a few doing six hours a day. There are quite a few notes in here that tell me what I should focus on for passing the test. It is like the person who wrote the notes provided us with a cheat sheet. What he says about the journey in the notes seems to be personal, as if he lived through what was written in the book. It really makes me wonder how life was like back then, living in the presence of gods.

All four of us, Biremeril, Ralodan, Melyis and I, take the test at the same time and all pass without getting a question wrong. Unfortunately, we had to hand the books back.

Thankfully, level one is taught by a stray, Haemyish, and she is far more helpful than Olizara. Unfortunately, the book we are given is The Light of the World by Mathienne Naesalor instead of Terel. Sadly, Terel is said to be dead, so we can’t go to him for answers. He died a while after the Angel Akrasiel sacrificed himself. His death was a mystery in and of itself. He was one of the strongest in the Light, so he should’ve lived for a long time. In fact, most of the original disciples of Akrasiel are still alive, including the High Mother, Mathienne Naesalor, the author of the current book. I heard that Damaris is one of her closest disciples, along with Mother Vedana Oddheart and Mother Nostra Longswitch. The latter two were also among the original disciples of Akrasiel, along with Riluaneth Waeszeiros, Colvardonn, Anfather, and Amaranthae. All of them are of the ranks of Mother and Father. Strangely though, the High Father, Arbelladon Warmspear, and several other Mothers and Fathers, including Chaetris Rapidbirth and Fylson Greran, were not among the original disciples of Akrasiel and weren’t even with the church at the time of his presence.

The book was written by the High Mother and is quite interesting and teaches about the history of the church itself. Some of it overlaps with Terel’s book, but it also goes into detail of the time after Akrasiel and even Terel’s deaths. Detailing the creation of the Paladin order and how the ranks of the church were formed along with the election of each High Father, including Arbelladon, which is strife with controversy. It was between him and Anfather; however, it was rumored that he won over Anfather because of rumors that Anfather was in a relationship with an Accepted, although they were later proven to be untrue.

I was completely shocked to find that there are notes hidden deep within The High Mother’s book as well, and they must be by Terel also. They’re in the same handwriting as Terel’s and it’s a bit different from the High Mother’s. Shockingly, they question the church’s decision to outlaw attachments and relationships. Are these Terel’s notes? He wasn’t alive when this was publicized. What if it’s actually Mathienne’s notes? Maybe she also has secrets. Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it… I really need to get my hands on the rest of those books.

All three, Biremeril, Ralodan, and Melyis, also have the same notes. After class one day, all four of us decided to approach Haemyish about it.

“I’m not surprised you four can see the notes,” Haemyish says as she considers us. “Sister Damaris has an uncanny knack for recruiting people who seem to have whatever qualities or traits that Terel was searching for when he placed the charm on the books.”

“So, he did write the notes?” I ask, trading glances with the other three.

“I take it none of you have read the hidden books, then?” she asks. All four of us shake our heads no. “They’re in the hands of someone else.”

“Well then, we can’t talk any more of this until you have. None of it will make sense otherwise. So, I advise that until you can read the books you focus on passing the test. You already know what you need to focus on since you have the notes, but if you need help, you’re more than welcome to come to me.” she says.

We all nod and make our way out. “That’s exactly what Sister Damaris said…”

“You spoke to her about it?” Ralodan asks.

“Yes… It was a while ago.” I say with a nod. My eyes go wide. “Oh, I nearly forgot. She confirmed it was Terel who wrote the notes. At least in the first book, but I don’t see how he could’ve written them since the book was published after his death.”

“And you’re telling us this now!” Biremeril says with wide eyes, pulling at his curly, black hair.

“Yeah, I forgot with all that was going on,” I say.

“Well, we all assumed that anyway, it’s not like it’s anything new,” Ralodan says.

“We need to get our hands on those books,” I say.

“Why don’t we just talk to Charinva and get them from her, or at least one or two? How many are there, anyway?” Ralodan asks.

“Who is Charinva again?” Melyis asks.

“Another stray,” Ralodan says.

“I don’t know. She’s rather stubborn,” Biremeril says.

“We should go to my dorm first and grab Chalia. She is good at convincing people to do things,” I say.

“What if she won’t give them to us?” Biremeril asks.

“She will, or at least one or two books we can share amongst each other,” Ralodan says with that confident smile, and I believe he can convince her if not Chalia. That smile can convince anyone. 

Biremeril reluctantly agrees and we head back to my dorm to find Chalia just getting back from her own class. “Hey… Didn’t realize we were having a party. I would’ve put on my nice brown robes.”

“We want to confront Charinva and convince her to hand over the books.” I spit out.

“Or at least one or two of them. We don’t need all of them just yet,” Ralodan says.

“Okay, let’s do it then, but I get first dibs since I’ve been waiting longer for them,” Chalia says.

We all agree, and Ralodan adds his own two cents. “We should probably just go in order of arrival, so Biremeril should get them next and then me, then Lura, and lastly Melyis.”

“That seems fair,” Biremeril says.

“I suppose,” I say with a sigh. That means I will have to wait for all three of them to finish the next book before I can even begin reading it. That might take forever, depending on how long it is. At least I’ll get them before Melyis, which is a petty thought.

We all follow Chalia to Charinva’s room down the hall. Chalia doesn’t even knock before barging in, and she’s fast enough to duck before a book comes flying out of nowhere and hits poor Biremeril right in the forehead. Thank the Light, it wasn’t me this time.

“Seriously!” Chalia snaps at Ochilysse. “You nearly broke Biremeril’s nose!”

She only shrugs. “Next time knock! You’re just lucky it wasn’t a knife.”

“You are insane,” Chalia says as she forces Biremeril’s hand away and looks at the bump growing on his forehead as tears water his cheeks. “Fortunately, it’s just a little bump. You should be fine. Maybe we can get Haemyish to heal it. She’s pretty skilled.”

“What do you all want?” Ochilysse asks.

“We came to speak with Charinva. It doesn’t concern you,” Chalia says, her annoyance showing.

“Go ahead,” the other girl says, never glancing up from her book.

“We want the books. You have to share. You’ve had them forever,” Chalia says.

“Maybe a simple please would work better, Chalia,” Ralodan says as he steps past. “What she meant to say is, may we please see the first book or two?”

Chalia rolls her eyes. Charinva puts a bookmark between the pages and snaps the book shut. Her face seems to contort in contempt. “You can have them all. I’m done with them. I don’t even want to look at them anymore. I still can’t believe what I read. It’s… I’m lost for words. It’s absurd. It’s blasphemy. It’s… It’s very likely true, which is… I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“Is it really that bad?” I ask and my teeth bite into my lip.

She looks up at me with eyes that look strained and tired. Has she slept at all? “I can’t really tell you, but just take everything you know and throw it into the trash. What these books say change everything.”

She goes over to her chest and pulls out six very thick books. “The first one is just another copy of The Light’s Embrace. The second one is Terel’s Revelations. Then the following are secrets told to him by Akrasiel. Book one is Truths of the Cosmos. The second book is called Divine Secrets, part one. Book three is Divine Secrets part two and lastly, an Encyclopedia. You need to start with Terel’s Revelations before moving to the Truths of the Cosmos and so on. Read each book in order. It makes more sense that way. If you have any questions, don’t ask me. Ask someone else. Maybe Damaris or whoever. I would like to forget I read them.”

“How could they really be that bad?” I ask.

Charinva only shrugs. “Not bad, but what is written in them is hard to comprehend and even harder to accept. Tread carefully, if at all.”

The rest of us trade disparaging looks with each other. I finally speak up. “So, I guess Chalia will take them first, then… Ochilysse?”

We all look over at her. She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll read them. I won’t be quick about it.”

Half of us roll our eyes. “I wonder who else still needs to read them,” Chalia asks.

“Let’s find out after we finish with them,” I say.

That earns a smile from Chalia. “I quite agree.”

“So, after Ochilysse gets them, then Biremeril, then Ralodan, then me, and then Melyis? Does that sound okay?” I ask.

Everyone nods. Ralodan speaks up. “So, I guess we should probably just focus on completing the levels as quickly as possible so we can put ourselves in an excellent position within the church to prepare for when we finally get the books.”

“That sounds like as good a plan as any,” I say. Biremeril, Melyis, and Ochilysse all nodding. “I’ll help Chalia move the books to our dorm, and then we can get to it. That and get those Light-forsaken chore hours done.”

The others all sigh, but agree.

“Don’t cheat and start reading the books before me, Lura!” Ochilysse says.

“Don’t worry. I have plenty to do until it’s my turn,” I say, then look over at Charinva. “Say, Charinva… Would it be possible to borrow some of your books on Arcane spells?”

“Sure, why not,” Charinva says, then nods over to towers of stacked books in the corner of the room. “Have a look and take what you like.”

“Can we also have at it?” Ralodan asks.

“Yes, I don’t mind, but I want them all back!” she says, as she grabs the book she was reading and returns to it. Everyone besides Chalia sifts through the stacks of books. I find a few on basic Arcane spells and figure I should start there.

We all help Chalia get the books back to our dorm. They’re quite heavy and thick. Then I go with Ralodan, Biremeril, and Melyis to study our current level. With Terel’s notes in the back of Mathienne’s book, we make quick work of studying.

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Bothvar Beorcolsson

I travel back with Amalasontha back as we head to her village because I’ve decided to pay my respects to Tonna. Forsa village isn’t all that different from Stormfront. It lies directly south across the bay from Stormfront. I have never actually been here before, but like Stormfront, the town is protected by a giant wooden wall that separates the buildings from the woods. They have two separate harbors; one is on the side of the bay that is directly across from Stormfront and the other looks out to the sea. The seaside harbor is less protected and therefore only takes in visitors while the bay holds all of their ships. The village itself is nowhere near as big as Stormfront but is not small by any means. Mostly women with only a few men who I presume are most likely slaves.

The women gawk and stare as we walk in. They must not see many men aside from their slaves. I follow Amalasontha all the way to their hall where the body of Tonna lies, along with the other fallen warriors. I see two women I remember from my wedding. Amalgunda, the chief if I am correct, who looks slightly older now with her golden hair showing streaks of white. She still has the dignity of a leader as she sits up straight in her throne-like chair. Or at least the closest thing to a throne aside from the chair that the other woman I recognize sits in. Their matriarch, Dasyra Ragnarsdottir, who doesn’t seem to be a day older than she was at my wedding. Of course, the wedding was only just over a cycle ago. I continuously forget that. It seems like a long time ago.

Behind Dasyra is another woman I recognize. The same woman I sat with at the docks during the All-Clan Meeting who also came to my wedding, Almedha Dasyrasdottir. She, like all the rest, grieves for the fallen. All three women look upon me with hard eyes. None seem to be sure of what they see.

“Mother Dasyra, Chieftess Amalgunda. Bothvar, son of Earl Beorcol of the Kraken clan, has joined us in honoring our fallen sisters and daughters who gave their lives in battle,” Amalasontha says. Both of the women stare at me long and hard. Even Almedha seems to be in disbelief.

“This couldn’t possibly be the same man we saw get married at the end of fall just one cycle ago,” the Chieftess says.

“It is him,” Dasyra says with those eyes that seem to glow like an emerald under the light of the moon. “He has changed much. I see he’s been eating the glow mushrooms. They leave the skin that dark color. Your weapons, is that Nedraetium?”

“I don’t know what that is, but I crafted these weapons with the glow ore I found in the mountain. The same place where the glow shrooms are,” I say.

She half smiles. “Nedraetium is what the dwarves call it. Their mountains are rich with it. Unfortunately, it is too heavy for most humans to lift. But you seem to have no trouble.”

“I did when I first found it. Couldn’t budge it. But I grew strong during my self-exile,” I say.

“Right. I’m sorry to hear about your brother. It is tragic,” the Matriarch says.

“He’ll live on within his children. I’ll make sure of it.” I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the loss of your fellow Valkyrie. During the battle, I wish I had been more disciplined. If I would’ve stayed back, they might still be alive.”

“Don’t be foolish, child. You are not to blame. The blame rests solely on the Bone Eaters. Tonna died so that the rest of our people can continue on to live. She will be remembered for her sacrifice and the younglings will know that she paid with her life to make sure they get to live theirs. That is the reason we fight, is it not? To provide and protect the ones we care about?”

“It should be…” I admit as I shift my eyes away.

“Well, we can’t fault you for wanting revenge. I know above all that the lure of revenge can be rather tempting,” Amalasontha says with a bitter tone. Her hand clenches her sword at her belt. “Sometimes it takes a journey with young cubs to remember what is important. One must not forget it is the next generation that we must protect. It would do no good to die seeking revenge and leave the future of our own people unguarded.”

“Right, you may be, but I still think justice must be exacted,” I say.

“Do you not know the difference between justice and revenge, young Beorcolsson?” the Matriarch asks.

“Is there a difference?” I ask.

“Perhaps. Talk to me again when you find out the answer,” she says. Leave it to a woman to always leave questions unanswered.

Dasyra turns to Amalasontha. “Now that you are here my child, let us lay to rest those who made the ultimate sacrifice.”

Amalasontha nods, clasping her fist against her chest. Dasyra and Amalgunda rise up and make their way past. I follow Amalasontha and Almedha behind them as she joins the women to lift up and carry out the bodies of Tonna and the others.

They head out onto the ice-cold docks facing the sea, where several small boats decorated to honor their dead are placed on the frozen ice. Amalasontha and the others lay the dead upon their final resting place within the boats. Dasyra stands in front of the crowd, made up of mostly women. “Today is a sad day. A sad day indeed, for we have to say our last farewell to those we know to be family. Some see them as daughters, others as sisters. Some even see them as lovers, but we all share a bond of kinship with these brave fallen warriors. They stood against those who seek to harm us. Not only did they stand against them, but because of them we all get to live another day in peace. Because they sacrificed their lives, we may live to see tomorrow. We owe them a life that is worthy of such a sacrifice, and I will demand of you that you live your life to earn that sacrifice. Remember their names and who they were. Carry those memories and share them with the next generation so they can be immortal within our hearts. For they still live and dine in the halls with our beloved Fridgerd, the mother of us all. Now, say your goodbyes for now, but not forever. For one day we will meet again in the next life when we too must make the final sacrifice to ensure our people live on.”

Everyone bows their head with their fists against their chest. I follow their lead and show my respect. Then the women kiss their fingers and raise them to the heavens above as I do the same. “Now, my children, let us send our fallen to the halls of our beloved Fridgerd so they can dine with our ancestors and watch down upon our people.”

Archers light arrows, notch, and draw. A teary-eyed Amalasontha gives them the command and they release, lighting the sky in flame before they set fire to the dead. Their flames light up the darkness, melting the ice until their lights are taken by the gods above.

Amalasontha falls to her knees and weeps. Just as I am about to turn to leave, something happens. The clouds part, and a light shines down on the sea. The women all gasp and point out. It’s like the real Valkyrie themselves came down from the heavens to take the sisters home with them. But just as soon as it comes, the light is gone, and snow rains down as if the skies themselves wept.

As the women say their farewells, the harbor empties for all but Amalasontha. I walk up to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She lets out a long breath before she climbs to her feet. “I wish it was me instead.”

“I understand. No parent should weep for their child.”

She looks up at me. “You’re an honorable man, Bothvar. Tonna knew that to be true, and she had the best judgment of the character of others.”

“That she did. I will never forget the day we met as children. She helped me prevent my brother and his friends from killing a little rabbit. She always had a heart of gold.”

Amalasontha smiles. “She told me that story. You and her share the same heart. I take warmth in knowing you carry that same warm heart on. Do not let it grow cold, Bothvar. Keep it warm.”

“I’ll try, but it is hard.”

“I know that all too well. Now come, join our feast to celebrate the lives of the fallen. Of my daughter,” she says.

“I cannot. I must go back. Feels like it is time to return home. I have been gone far too long. Even though I didn’t succeed with the goal I set out to achieve, I have found something better instead. With a new purpose, I will return to my family. I will honor Thorkel in another way. I will make sure his child lives on to carry on his name and legacy. And I would like to see my own wife and child. I’ll make sure no one forgets Tonna’s name, nor the other fallen.”

She nods, her face shows compassion and respect. “That I can respect. Cherish them, Bothvar. You will never know when it is time to say goodbye.”

I nod and hold out my hand. She takes it and meets my eyes. “I hope we meet again, Bothvar, son of Beorcol, but under different circumstances.”

“I feel the same.” With that, I let go and head into the storm.

—

Snow comes down as if the sky is mad. The tears of the clouds are frozen with a vengeful pain. It isn’t just cold; it is so cold that by the time I got to the river the water is completely frozen over all the way to the bottom. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve heard stories of a woman known as the Queen of Winter. She’s a dragon who brings winter wherever she flies. The dragon named Azyra, the Queen of Winter. She must be mad to make it snow with such ferocity.

But fortunately, I can cross the river without having to swim. It is frozen down to the dirt. But the snow does not make it easy to get back to my cave. Even I can barely see past my own hand. It is very tempting to take a left and go home, but I must return to the cave first. I nearly lost all sense of direction with the snow, and as I leave the forest behind, everything looks the same. The cold seeps down into my very bones. It’s hard to deny the chill. I don’t stop, just keep going. Even though my skin has been hardened by my exile, it feels the icy burn of the blizzard.

I reach the mountain and force myself to go on. It’s just a little farther now. The steep slope of the mountain makes it hard to get a footing within the snow that continues to blind me.

I do not want to lose sight of the secret passageway that leads to the cave we found so long ago, but I can hardly tell the signs and nearly miss them as I find it.

As I find the entrance to my cave, I collapse with relief once I get inside. Then, an overwhelming sense of loneliness creeps down to my very heart. Blue-Eyes is gone, and her family along with an old friend are dead. The very thought saddens me. Then, I realize I am not alone. I pull out my sword and ax as I climb to my feet. Hidden deeper in the cavern, someone stands with a weapon drawn. I can smell them. I can hear their breath and their quick heartbeat. Who dares sneak into my cave?

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Lura Syllana

I’m in time for the sermon as I head over with Chalia. We take our seats within the Cathedral Hall and join the other strays near the back. But my heart stops dead in its tracks when I see a man I recognize dressed in the most over-the-top, rich robes I’ve ever seen. The robes themselves are white with gold trim and crimson embroidery. Gold chains and ropes hang from his neck with the largest white crystal I’ve ever seen. He has one of the tallest, gaudy hats ever with more crimson on it. But it is his face that makes my heart cease its beat. I’ve seen that face before. That fancy mustache with the sharp little goatee and a grin as wicked as it is charming. Those eyes that glow blue seem to have a sinister guile under the surface. He approaches the pulpit and greets the hall with that rich and welcoming voice. The same one I heard him use towards Zaralraden at the brothel just before they head off into a room. Now, the allegations about him seem to carry more weight.

Yet his voice seems to carry a somewhat mesmerizing charm to it. His words drip with desire and make you want to listen to every word. He’s so convincing and seems so sincere and passionate. It is like I have to not only hear him out, but also follow his word and take it as truth. He speaks about our duty to the church and how we need to stay vigilant in the Light and do our duty. He speaks about sins and their consequences. Specifically, the sin of speaking out against the church and the blasphemy of other religions and their desire to hide the truth. The lies spread by those who want to destroy the Light are what he speaks about. He warns us about temptations to listen to these lies and falsehoods. He says we need to confront them and destroy them. Take no quarter to heretics and show no mercy. We need to purify the pagans at all costs. Convert them or show them the Light’s mercy. He talks with so much conviction. I don’t understand… I know this man to be a hypocrite and a pervert. He is not worthy of the title, and yet I want to do as he says. I want to follow his word. It’s as if his sermon puts a spell on me to listen and follow. I close my eyes and breath to regain my own thoughts.

I look around to see that everyone else seems to be within the same trance that I felt. Everyone except Ralodan. He doesn’t seem convinced at all. In fact, he doesn’t look happy about what the High Father is saying. His arms are locked across his chest and his normally smiling face is transfixed into a frown. His eyes shift and lock onto mine, and I feel as if he is trying to tell me not to listen. He looks around at everyone else and seems to grow fearful.

The sermon finally ends, and we are released for supper. The Accepted and Novice strays all gather around the same table. All talking about the High Father’s sermon, but the tone has all changed. They aren’t talking about the allegations or his hypocrisy. It’s as if that was all forgotten. They only talk about his sermon, and they all agree with him. It’s like they have been mind controlled to forget their mistrust of him and follow his words. They talk about seeking out those pagans and forcing them to either convert or lock them away, even killing them if they have to. What is going on?

“Do you all honestly believe the Light wants us to destroy those who don’t stand within its shine?” Ralodan asks. He looks as surprised as I feel. “Do you truly believe that Akrasiel, the angel who speaks of mercy, love, compassion, and forgiveness, wants us to kill all the nonbelievers?”

“Well, I mean… I don’t know,” Haemyish says, averting her eyes.

“I can assure you all that the Light is about peace and love, not bringing death to the nonbelievers. This High Father speaks lies,” Ralodan says a little too loud. Several tables quiet down around us.

“Ralodan! You can’t say such things. That’s blasphemy,” Chalia says, in a hushed tone.

“Is it though? We were taught by Terel that the Light wants us to spread love, not hate. Does he not share with us the words that were spoken to him by Akrasiel himself? The High Father speaks about what the Light wants, and yet he himself hasn’t even met the Angel Akrasiel. There is something not right about all of this,” he says with eyes burning full of righteousness. Those eyes travel around to meet the faces of everyone listening. Ralodan’s words seem to strike at the heart of everyone. No one says anything, and shame seems to wash over them. He sees this and softens his tone. “He is right about one thing. We have to remain vigilant against those who call themselves pure and would demand that we follow them, as spoken by Terel.”

Whispers and confusion seem to spread to those who are sitting nearby, but those who sit among us seem to nod in understanding. It is clear out of everyone listening to Ralodan’s words who has received the notes for they nod, acknowledging him while the others seem to look around, confused.

Strangely, Ralodan’s words make me feel as if I should listen and follow him as well. But the feeling they bring is far different from that of the High Father. He fills me with a warm light where the High Father’s words make me feel angered and stir my emotions into a fire. A fire that demands to burn. Why is this?

After supper, Chalia goes to Damaris’ and she’s not back until late. She must’ve been gone for hours. Maybe she did some labor? She looks a little disheveled, however she wears a genuine smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” she asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. You were just gone for quite a while. What did Damaris keep you there for so long?”

“Oh, we just always have so much to talk about. Especially books. We could go on and on for hours,” she says as she practically falls like a feather on the bed. She’s acting rather more elated than usual. Odd. I shrug it off and continue reading the rest of the book.

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