The Burden of the Protector (7 page)

Yesterday a knight protector came into my house, unannounced. I didn’t hear the door opening or his footsteps until his shadow was falling over me, him standing behind my right shoulder.

With deep disdain, he asked, “What are we writing here?” Before I could stop him, he snatched my papers, ripping some apart. He took a few back, out of my reach. He stood by the gaping window and placed the papers under the waning light of the evening sun.

I knew him but couldn’t remember his name. He was young, twenty-five, maybe thirty. So tall, his roguish black hair almost grazing the ceiling. It seemed the knights kept getting taller and larger. There were so many new faces these days. I stood, took a tentative step forward.

“Nothing of interest,” I said, unable to stop the quavering in my voice. “A bore to one like you. Just notes, of a sort, about my life. A diary for my grandchildren, to remember me by…later. Nothing, really…”

He grimaced and turned his back to me. I noticed he had a hard time reading and was trying to hide his ineptitude. I waited, as patiently as I could, given the circumstances, brushing sweat from my forehead.

After a time, he spat through the window and crumpled the papers in his hands, threw them on the floor. I fell to my knees, grabbed the pieces.

He laughed. “Rubbish,” he added. “Old man, do something better with the time you have left.” These last words held some sincerity.

The door closed behind him with a bang. I waited a little longer and tried to keep tears from flowing. I stood, put the fake manuscript on my desk. My hands were shaking violently.

The ploy had worked.

*

That was yesterday. Today, I am feeling particularly frail. The weakness started quite suddenly as I woke this morning. It kept me in bed until noon, at which point I was finally able to stand with the help of Faron.

My son brought fresh vegetables, small radishes, the first of the season. He remembered them to be my favourites. Despite his reservations, Faron’s company is a blessing. I see in him a little of myself. Just a little, but it is comforting. And for the rest, he reminds me so painfully of Eriéla.

I had the courage to enquire about his sister and brother. They are doing well.

“Can you try again?” I asked. “I would very much like to see them. I do not know how much longer I have…”

To which he promised, “I will try.”

I see hope in Faron. I almost told him everything. Surely, I should be able to trust him. But I didn’t dare take the chance. It saddens me greatly, but it is too risky. Maybe later, maybe in the end, when I am done. Maybe if I give him a little more time, he will come to see.

For now I must continue. Continue before this feebleness stops me completely from writing.

*

Afire 11, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

About a month after my twenty-fifth birthday, I crossed paths with Vìr by the main well in the heart of Ta’Énia. It had been a warm day with no wind, the tall trees unmoving. I hadn’t seen him in several months. We didn’t exchange any words, but a simple nod. It was enough.

Enough for me to notice the strange glitter in his eyes.

I stopped, but he didn’t turn or look my way. As I watched him walk away, I knew, deep down, that he had found it.

*

Afire 14, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

The knock on my front door came around midnight. I awoke instantly, looking around in a confused state. Bluish moonlight filtered through my window, presenting my room as an eerie enclosed space. The knock came again. This time I recognized it. The four knocks. One strong, two subtle, one strong.

Vìr.

The situation reminded me strongly of another night, eight months previous, when I had found myself at Vìr’s door. The roles were now reversed. Where he hadn’t hesitated to open his door, I did. For long moments. So long that when I finally made it to the door, I was certain he would have gone away.

But he was there, standing tall and large, always so imposing. I couldn’t help but look at the dangerous blade balancing on his belt.

This was Vìr, a friend…and yet, not Vìr. Not the one I remembered. Either he had changed, or my perception of him had. Either way, it had been a long time.

I reluctantly let him in, forcing myself to remember he had done the same. He entered quickly, agitated, closed the door behind him, looked outside and pulled the curtains.

“Finally,” he blurted out. “We found it. The passage, my friend, it truly exists!”

He was smiling, his white teeth a flagrant contrast to the night shades. His large frame couldn’t stay in one location. He paced, the curved blade on his hip moving precariously around with him.

He looked so foreign to me that night. Almost menacing.

Finally, he stopped, stood looking at me expectantly. I realized he wanted me to react the same way he had. Be excited by the findings.

“You should have left it alone,” I murmured.

The words hurt him. He took a step back, put a large hand on the table, as if to stop himself from falling. Even though he had come for support, I couldn’t give him any. I was seriously scared. The implications…

“But…” he started, his voice deep. “I thought…”

“You didn’t need to think,” I heard myself saying. “I told you. I wanted to leave it in the past.”

He shook his head. I saw then that he wasn’t hurt as much as disappointed. This frustrated me.

“I had thought you were different,” he said, his face down. “In a way, I wanted you to be different. Just so…just to prove I was not totally wrong.”

He looked around. My house was similar to his, newer. It was also very proper, with everything in its place, just as the house of a knight protector should be.

“Wrong about what?” I asked.

“I apologize,” he said, ignoring my question and finding a way to surprise me yet again. “My intention was not to trouble you or bring back memories you wanted to forget. One day, not so long ago, you came to me and shared a discovery. You could have gone to anyone, but you decided to trust me, almost a stranger to you. I never forgot. There are not many kindred spirits in this world, not nearly enough. And so, my friend, I wanted to come to you.”

He let the words hang. I suddenly ached for those days when we would sit together, me telling of my visions, him taking notes, sharing…but things had changed.

“I will go now,” he said, “and leave you be.”

He looked at me one last time. I didn’t move, didn’t flinch. I couldn’t. I had to protect the damn image I had been working so hard to build, to maintain, with Eriéla, with all the others. What a knight I was.

As Vìr disappeared, I realized that the pretence was important with all the others, but not with Vìr. He had seen the true Dàr, the weak Dàr. He had been there. He had been the friend I had needed.

He still was.

I should have gone after him, but I didn’t.

*

Vìr didn’t come back to see me. He went on with his research and exploration without me. Just him…and Maéva. I felt jealousy, misplaced, but jealousy nonetheless. I’d had my chance and had turned it down. I tried but could not forget, could not stop thinking that Vìr had found the passage.

It was confirmation that I had not imagined the whole thing, that everything I had seen was true. The discovery of the object, the visions and the passage, they were my own. I did not know why that was important. It was something outside of everything else, of Ta’Énia, Jarum, the Sy’Iss, the knights. I would only understand its significance many years later.

Thoughts of Vìr plagued me for a while. I imagined him needing to know something more about what I had seen, about my visions. It would be an opportunity for me to join them, maybe. Another chance. I wouldn’t go to him on my own, but if he returned…

It took a few weeks, but eventually my routine slowly returned to normal and my brief meeting with Vìr became distant.

Eriéla and I finally got paired to guard the same part of Yurita. This allowed us to patrol together when our shifts would follow each other’s. Instead of one of us relieving the other, we would do both patrols together. I particularly liked the turns at night, when we would get to watch the sunset and the stars. Those days were some of the best of my life. If I could have stopped time then, I would have.

*

Gathering 16, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

One day, I returned home to find Vìr standing on my front steps. Had he come several weeks before, I would probably have been glad to see him, ready to join him and Maéva in their excursions. But now, a month later, I had once again settled in my role as a knight. I stopped before he could see me. Turned around, almost went away. Paced…making faces, stomping, and torn yet again.

I was getting weary of the whole matter, of my constant confusion, of my wild desires to explore and learn more. I didn’t understand why it couldn’t just go away. I directed all that frustration at Vìr. If only he could go away and let me be, I would have a chance at a normal life, a happy life. It had to stop.

I made a decision. In that moment, I believed it to be the best one for myself, for Eriéla, for my family. I probably believed it to be the only one.

I started forward, knowing my words would be painful to Vìr, but not caring any longer.

It had to stop.

“I would not have come,” Vìr started first, “had not something important come up.”

His words were quick and his eyes averted mine. He was distressed. Old feelings of companionship returned, despite my newfound determination. I caved way too easily.

“What is it?” I asked impatiently.

He nodded, knowing I was allowing him but a few minutes.

“We cannot get to it,” he said. “There is a lake, as you well know, surrounded by cliff faces. The entrance is located at the far end, high above the water level. There is no way to climb the cliff. It is too high, too slippery. And there is no path leading to it either.”

My resolve was returning. If they had made some kind of significant progress, my hope might have been rekindled. As it was, I was starting to see this as being an endless quest, ever returning to haunt me.

“We need more resources,” said Vìr. “Maéva…she…she’s thinking about the League.”

I froze.

Fear must have shown on my face.

“There are some we can trust,” he tried to reassure me, but it was too late. “It is a last resort. I hope to find another way. I just…I will not do it without your approval.”

Numbness of the mind. Thoughts in stasis. My worst fear. If the Sy’Iss learned how I had lied and covered up the matter, I could…would lose everything. Everyone.

“If we go this route,” said Vìr, “you do not have to worry. Your name will never be mentioned. We will shield you, make it pass as a discovery of scholars. But we won’t do it without your consent.”

It didn’t occur to me that Vìr didn’t even need to ask my permission. What I could see was that he wanted this, that he needed this. Through fear, I saw that he would go to great lengths to make this happen and to explore that cave. Uncontrollable obsession floated in his eyes.

Without saying a word, I turned and left Vìr standing there. I entered my house and closed the door behind me.

*

Vìr disappeared for almost a full month. Maéva stayed behind. Where Vìr went, nobody seemed to know.

*

Meanwhile, my paranoia expanded. I started seeing monsters where there were none and conspiracies of all shapes and forms. The world was against me. I jumped every time I saw a member of the Sy’Iss.

I continued to make Vìr the target of my madness, made him everything he was not. I came to the only possible conclusion that made sense in the deep turmoil of my deranged mind.

Vìr had to be stopped.

*

Harvesting 1, year 2966, Dàr is 25.

The plan was executed with lunatic perfection. It hit Vìr and Maéva with devastating effect, both of them completely oblivious to its coming.

Once Vìr returned, he and Maéva resumed their activities and research, as they were bound to do. I watched from afar, their every movement, morning, night, and day. I faked sickness, tricked Eriéla into vouching for me, so I could sneak, hide, and observe. It took but a few days before Vìr and Maéva left, as I knew they would. I followed, watched them cross the bridge of Saril, follow the trail, pass by the glade, never stopping, before finally turning toward the Borders of Ul Darak, the mount of Fara, in the direction of the alleged entrance.

I didn’t go farther. Didn’t need to and didn’t want to. Satisfied, I returned to Ta’Énia, and again using the darkness of the night as cover, I broke into Vìr’s and Maéva’s houses. No one was looking for me and no one noticed me. Using some notes Vìr had taken during our discussions, I planted them strategically in both homes, selecting those most appropriate to my goal.

The next day, I made my way to the Sy’Iss’s Grand Hall, the largest building in all of Ta’Énia, located on the top of a hill, made of white stone and held up by a series of large columns. It stood in the middle of the village and there was no denying, just by its elevation and presence, that it was the governing centre of the region. As one climbed the steps to the hall, the surrounding areas unveiled themselves, forests, plains, cliffs, and mountains. A beautiful sight.

I will not write about the exact words that were exchanged inside this building on that day. In all my life, never had I dropped so low, talked with such hate, stupidity, and villainy.

In a small room with no windows, I stood face-to-face with an elderly master of the Sy’Iss. He didn’t give his name, but I knew him as Master Iirus because of his blind left eye and his advanced age. I felt so insignificant in his presence. Still, once encouraged by the master, I plunged ahead and exposed Vìr and Maéva’s hidden research, painted a terrible scheme to explore part of the Yurita Highlands without the Sy’Iss’s knowledge. When asked what was the purpose of the research, I feigned ignorance. At that point, it didn’t matter what I said. The look in the old man’s eye was telling. He had wanted this; the Sy’Iss had wanted exactly this for a long time. When pushed to say more, I willingly told about tracking them for a while in the Yurita Highlands, until I decided to return to the village and expose what I had seen. I admitted not having come right away, saying I admired Maéva and wanted to be certain before making accusations.