The Death of Promises (8 page)

L
athaar searched inside the Sanctuary, but it was outside that he found Keziel.

“I wouldn’t think the cold air would be good for an old man like you,” he said, bowing before his elder.

“The air’s cold everywhere, and a walk amid nature does me far better than the dim light inside.” He continued to shuffle along. “You have something on your mind, child? Out with it.”

“Have you thought about the curse on the girl I told you of last night?” Lathaar asked.

“If Calan cannot cure it, and believes that I cannot as well, then I trust his judgment,” Keziel said. “But you knew this before you ever came to me. What is it that really bothers you?”

“It’s about Mira,” he blurted. “I think there’s more to her than what you told me.”

“I told you everything you needed to know,” Keziel said, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. “She’s a special girl, one rarely born upon our world. Protect her, keep her safe, and nothing else should matter.”

“But I’ve found another,” Lathaar said. The old man halted his walk and stared at Lathaar with disbelieving eyes.

“You shouldn’t lie to an old man.”

“No lie. I have seen another, by the name of Tessanna. I witnessed her magic, and even fought against her. She rivals Mira in power, and she may well be her twin.”

Keziel resumed his walk. “What I can tell you will not ease the fears in your heart,” he said. “And it will not aid you in choosing your next path. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

“I must know,” Lathaar said. “I made a promise to a friend.”

Keziel sighed and scratched his long white beard.

“I don’t think even Mira knows what she really is. Few do. Are you sure you want to hear?”

Lathaar nodded.

“Very well,” the old man said with another sigh. “Then listen carefully.”

The paladin did listen. And when Keziel was done, Lathaar knew a lot of riding awaited him in the coming months. Tarlak needed to be told. Mira too. And Keziel was right; his fears were not eased. Not in the slightest.

W
here is it you think you’re going?” Jerico asked him as Lathaar saddled up his horse.

“Stonewood forest,” Lathaar replied, pulling tight one of the leather straps. “I need to find Mira and bring her to Veldaren.”

“Who’s Mira? You have a love I don’t know about?”

Lathaar chuckled.

“She’s a young woman. She helped me defeat Darakken not so long ago.”

“What’s so important about getting to her?”

“Too long a story to tell.” The paladin hoisted up a rucksack just behind the saddle and began tying it on. “At least at this moment, anyway.”

“So I finally find you and now you’re going to leave me? So rude, Lathaar. I expect better from a fellow paladin.”

Lathaar laughed.

“I assumed you would come with me, whether or not I asked you.”

Jerico leaned back against one of the wood beams that made up the stall.

“You assume wrong,” he said. “I’m still needed here. Ashhur has been quite clear about that during my prayers. If you bring this Mira girl here after you find her I’ll travel with you to Veldaren.”

The two paladins embraced.

“I know what you mean,” Lathaar said. “I hear his warnings too. Five days is all I ask. Stay safe until then, and throw me a prayer or two.”

“Toss me a few as well. I can’t imagine what need I have here in the Sanctuary, but if something or someone is crazy enough to attack here, I may need all the help I can get.”

At this Lathaar turned, hiding the trouble on his face. Jerico caught the look and refused to let it pass.

“You know who approaches, don’t you?” he asked.

“Five days,” Lathaar said, his back still to Jerico. “Four if I leave now and ride hard. They should not have caught up to me, but if they did… just be careful.”

He mounted his horse and grabbed the reins. Jerico frowned, displeased with how much he was being kept in the dark. As Lathaar rode south, Jerico decided he and Keziel needed to have a nice, long chat.

O
nce he was several miles from the Sanctuary, Lathaar closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind as he rode along a faded road once traveled by pilgrims seeking healing from the clerics of Ashhur. It was many miles between them, but Mira had communicated beyond farther.

Can you hear me?
he whispered in his head. No voice responded. The sound of his horse’s breathing grew louder in his ears. The clomps of the hoofs were like thunder.

Mira? Can you hear me?
I’ve returned.

His eyes flared open as a female voice suddenly pierced into his mind in a cascading shriek.

OH GODDESS HELP ME!

He awoke still atop his horse. The sun had set, and when he looked around, he realized he had traveled many miles since he could last remember. He rubbed his eyes. It felt like knives shredded everything within his skull. The fear in Mira’s voice lingered within him. He remembered what Keziel had said, and his gut sank further.

“Please help her,” Lathaar prayed. “Keep her safe until I arrive.”

He stopped his horse and dismounted. There was no time to build a fire, so he pulled out his blankets, wrapped them about his body, and laid down to sleep. He let his mount wander in search of food and water, knowing she was well-trained enough to return before sunrise. The surrounding landscape was full of hills, and plenty of springs ran between them.

Lathaar thought of calling out to Mira again, but the ache behind his eyes deterred him. He needed rest, and he needed to hold faith in his god that she would be well when he arrived. He offered another prayer for her safety before succumbing to sleep.

J
erico had hounded Keziel much of the day, until finally the old man promised to tell all he knew once the sun was down and the rest of the Sanctuary was asleep. The paladin waited by the fireplace, polishing his shield to pass the time. When the priest finally entered carrying a plate with bread, butter, and a wide knife, he sighed at Jerico.

“Thrilled as I am to find another paladin alive, you certainly aren’t helping me forget the worries of this world,” he said.

“That’s what I am here for,” Jerico said, putting away his cloth. “Prayers aren’t enough for what I do. I carry my shield and mace for a reason, and that’s because this world is trouble.”

“In trouble, really,” Keziel said, sitting in a wooden chair next to the fire. He cut a slab of butter with his knife and began slathering it across the bread. “Something is coming, some event that all three gods have been preparing for. My heart tells me Mira has her part to play.”

“Who is Mira?” Jerico asked. “How you speak of her, I guess my question should be
what
is she?”

“Mira is a daughter of balance, granted life by Celestia’s own hand. She has been made in the goddess’s image. Our order has written of several daughters of balance, and they always have pure black eyes and long hair dark as the night. Their mothers conceive without need of a lover and then die in birth. These daughters are barren, at least we believe so, for none are ever recorded as being with child.”

Jerico shifted by the fire, trying to imagine what one such girl would look like.

“Why does she make them?” he asked.

“Because Celestia represents the balance between Ashhur and Karak. She wants their war to wage eternally in punishment for their transgressions against her and her world. As she sleeps amid the weave of fate, she can sense turning points in time. When the world would turn too far to the side of either brother god, she gives her power to a mortal girl, a girl whose entire fate is devoted to preventing any disruption to the balance.”

“So this Mira girl, she’s one of these daughters?”

Keziel took another bite of bread.

“I am certain of it. I once thought that her purpose was the slaying of the demon Darakken, and I still may be correct. But if Lathaar is correct, and a second daughter has been born, then something far greater is at stake.”

“Why would it matter?” Jerico asked. “If Mira’s was to prevent things from descending too far to darkness, why couldn’t this other girl be to do the same?”

“With the destruction of the Citadel, it would seem likely,” Keziel said, licking butter from his lips. “But not once has anyone recorded two daughters of balance existing within fifty years of another, let alone at the same time. Let me show you why.”

He cleaned the butter off his knife and then balanced it on the tip of his finger. With subtle twists of his wrist, the knife began to teeter.

“Imagine the left side being Ashhur, and the right, Karak,” he said as Jerico watched intently. “Our world constantly shifts between the two, as is the nature of such a war. But sometimes things are not even, such as when the Citadel fell.” He shifted his finger more, so that the knife was perilously close to falling off the right side of his finger. “It is then a daughter of balance is born.”

As Jerico watched, Keziel tapped the left side of the knife with his other finger. The knife rocked back and forth for a moment and then settled down into a gentler balance.

“As you can see, once a daughter of balance intervenes, everything is chaotic. The future is uncertain for a brief stretch of time. And if a second daughter exists…”

He smacked the knife with his finger so that it began to rock violently, and then hit it a second time. The knife careened off his finger to the stone floor, the clear ring piercing the quiet hall. Both stared at the knife, not saying a word. Keziel took another bite of bread, chewing it as he thought.

“I fear Celestia has grown desperate. The world may be approaching a point where one side must win, Karak or Ashhur. If this is true, then Mira may well be the key to victory. I respect the goddess’s desires and commands, but I would greatly prefer Ashhur to take control of this world than let it descend into Karak’s madness.”

Jerico grabbed one of his blankets, wrapped it about his body, and lay down upon the stone.

“And this other girl,” he asked. “The one Lathaar met in Veldaren. Isn’t it possible she too has her part to play, for good or ill?”

“I’m sure she does,” Keziel said, rising from his chair. “But from what he told me she is far from a beacon of light. She is dangerous, a wild creature. Go with Lathaar when he returns to Veldaren. He will need your help to deal with the threat she might pose.”

Again Jerico remembered that look on Lathaar’s face, and as he watched the flickering flames he prayed that the five days passed quietly. He found sleep in the simple logic that whoever this other daughter of balance was, she couldn’t possibly have reason to venture across the rivers to come to the Sanctuary. In that simple but proud building of wood and stone, he could think of nothing anyone might want. Nothing at all.

But Keziel could.

5