Red Leaves and the Living Token - Book 1 - Part 1

  The Cleric had strong, friendly eyes, accented by a prominent brow and slightly sunken cheeks. He still had smooth pale green skin, good posture, and thin strong limbs. He was of the age where time still added to his distinguished appearance. He pulled open a thick door made of spiraling tan branches that criss-crossed in several layers of beautifully intricate patterns. He motioned for Raj to go in first.

  A young Botan girl, a few years younger than Emret, sat in a chair by the corner window, reading.

  “Sinesh, could you wait in the hall for just a moment?” the Cleric asked.

  The circumference of the small room was lined with bookshelves. In front of the shelves, as apparently there wasn’t enough shelving, more books were piled on the floor. A large desk filled up almost the rest of the space. There were two chairs crammed against each side of the desk.

  Both the desk and the chairs were crafted in the Botan style. The wood was grown to create a single complex shape for each. One of the legs of the desk dropped into a hole in the floor that was filled with dirt. The desk was still alive. It made Raj curious. The school itself was old. It could’ve been built a hundred years ago. But the desk was grown in a different style. It looked new, or gently worn. Did the school have craftsmen able to grow such things here in the school? Or did they import all their furniture? How would they import a living desk? He thought the Botan culture was fascinating. What were the rules governing their trade guilds? Could any of that be done here? He always wondered how much Botan cultured survived in the city.

  Sinesh picked up her bag and book and left.

  “Thanks dear,” the Cleric said with a smile.

  Raj stood next to the empty chair but didn’t sit. He was still fascinated by the intensity of the clutter.

  “I take it, you know Moslin,” he said without looking at the Cleric.

  “Yes I do.” The Cleric squeezed around his large desk and sat in his formal chair. “She's my daughter.”

  Raj turned to the Cleric.

  “Master Cleric Bedic Verdu,” Cleric Bedic extended a hand of greeting.

  Raj shook it. “Your daughter? I had no idea she was the...”

  Bedic let out a grunt sort of laugh. “If you had would that've changed the way you spoke to her last night?”

  Raj stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “She came by my home, upset. We had a nice conversation about what happened.”

  “Listen, I like your daughter. She's been really kind to my son.” He noticed a large book on a small waist high table next to a shelf. The cover of the book, partly covered in papers, appeared to be an illustration of something similar to the carving he found at the beach. He stepped towards the book.

  “But at the same time, she refuses to respect my wishes in some important areas regarding his care. As a parent, I can’t tolerate that.”

  “Oh?”

  Raj slid the papers aside to reveal the full cover of the book. It was an image of the carving. He was right! What would that be doing here? He wondered.

  “She won't stop reading him a book that influences how he perceives his illness.”

  Bedic got up and scooted over to the book that had attracted Raj’s attention. “I see.”

  “It’s deceptive and unfair. When he realizes it isn't true it's going to be incredibly destructive.”

  “So you asked her to stop reading the book, and in retaliation, she kidnapped your son? That’s a pretty drastic reaction, don’t you think?”

  “I didn't say she kidnapped him. I... I can't find either of them. The other nurses said she came here this morning.”

  Bedic moved in to pick up the book, forcing Raj to back out of the way. Bedic continued to a nearby shelf and slid it into an empty spot.

  “I sympathize with your situation. I can't imagine the panic you must feel, missing a child like this.” He stepped to the door and opened it.

  “I think in this case, your emotions are your enemy. You’re grabbing whole-heartedly onto the first possibility that comes to mind. I suggest you go back and collect as many hard facts as possible. When my daughter returns from wherever she went to blow off steam from your argument, I'll have her contact you.” He stepped out the door. “If you'll excuse me, I need to attend to my granddaughter. You remember the way out?”

  Raj let out a frustrated sigh and followed him to the door. He supposed the old man was right. Perhaps he’d been a little quick in forming his conclusions. It was a little early to know what happened. But at this point he sure could use some help. If Moslin had nothing to do with it, he’d bet she’d be willing to help look for him.

  He watched Bedic and his granddaughter holding hands as they disappeared down the stone hallway. The image brought a wave of unpleasant emotion. What if he never saw his son again? He quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind. He’d find Emret. He had too. But… What then…

  He watched Bedic and his granddaughter turn the corner, then glanced back at the open door to Bedic’s office. He wanted to look at Bedic’s book. He wanted to see what it said about the carving. There had to be some rational explanation for the things he’d seen. He slipped back into the room and over to the shelf where Bedic had put the book. With a quick scan, he located it and put it back onto the pedestal.

  After a quick peek out the door to make sure he’d be alone for a few more minutes, he hurried back to pedestal. On the way, his arm brushed past a sloppy stack of papers leaning precariously near the edge of the large desk. He turned in time to see them sliding off and made a vain grab at them, but it was too late. They hit the ground with a loud smack.

  He cursed under his breath and listened for a moment for any reaction outside the room. Nothing. He looked at the door then back at the book. The image of the carving was clear and unmistakable. What is this thing? He wondered as he traced his finger over it.

  He flicked the cover open and flipped through the first couple of pages. Lots of small print. Then a full page illustration. He stopped. A beautifully executed pen and ink depiction of a small animal with bright red fur sitting in the underbrush of a thick pine forest. Next to it was a small plant with bright red branches and leaves. Below them was an area of bright red soil. Red was the only colored ink. A caption on the page labeled them as: The Three Reds.

  He turned the page.

  It was another illustration in simple pen and ink with streaks of color. In the upper right corner, a Bota held the glowing white carving from the front cover. A brief description next to him described what he was holding as the Token.

  Across the page near the bottom corner, a small patch of red earth stood out, drawn in the same simplified style as before and accented with red ink. Mountains and forests, illustrated more like icons, separated the person from the red earth.

  Raj turned the page. The layout was similar. This time a Petra held up the Token. And on the opposing page, a small animal with bright red fur sat under some ferns.

  The following page repeated the layout. Now a Zo held the Token across from a small plant with red leaves. Raj had never seen the three Reds associated with the races in that way. He leaned in closer to the drawing of the Zo. This illustration had a great deal more detail, especially around the Zo. He could see the figure was stooped more than usual and wore a rather fashionable suit coat. It was rather modern in style, yet the book had to be half a century old.

  He leaned in closer. The toes of the shoes ended in an exaggerated point. The Zo’s cuffs pushed several inches beyond the coat sleeves. There was a white emblem embroidered over the chest pocket. Raj lifted his arms to find his own cuffs extending the same amount. The toes of his shoes extended in a point. He tugged at the chest of his suit to get a clear look. It was embroidered with same emblem.

  His head started to spin in a sudden fit of dizziness. He lost control and fell forward towards the open book. Instead of hitting, his face simply passed through. He clenched his muscles in panic as his body tumbled in free fall. An instant later he hit soft ground.
>
  After a moment he opened his eyes and tried to move. To his surprise nothing wasn’t injured. He sat up carefully and looked around. He was now sitting in the middle of a pine forest. He got up and started to brushed the pine needles off then noticed there was something in his other hand. He was holding the token.

  A portion of the forest began to glow in the pattern of a path, starting where he stood and stretching out as far as he could see through the trees. In a jolting blur of motion, his feet lifted off the ground and he shot forward above the highlighted path. He moved faster and faster until the individual trees turned to streaks. The forest ended abruptly, and his body crumpled with inertia as he shot almost straight up, climbing above the jagged cliffs of a mountain range.

  He crested a peak and descended the other side as fast as he had climbed. At the base of the mountain, he hit the ground with a jarring impact and continued forward into another forest without pause. The trees blew by, then abruptly stopped. The sudden lack of motion caused his head to spin. He fought an urge to vomit. Below him the same little plant with the red leaves sat under the dense canopy.

  As soon as he caught his breath, he was yanked backward, as though being sucked through a sheet of glass. Then he was back in the Cleric’s office standing in front of the book. He stepped back.

  This wasn’t what he needed at all. He scooted to the door and stepped out. The hallway was still empty. He took a deep breath and cursed again. He doubted he’d have this chance again. He had to see if there was anything else useful.

  He returned to the book, leaned in and very delicately turned the page.

  What looked like a giant inkblot filled almost the entire left page. Armies of Zo, Bota, and Petra filled the bottom of both pages like ants swarming around a much larger animal. The inkblot appeared to be some sort of creature that was attacking the tiny armies, thrashing its black arms and tail.

  In the middle of the army, one man stood apart. He was drawn much larger than the rest and held a glowing white Token in his outstretched hand.

  Raj’s vision blurred, and he fell forward. He caught his balance and looked up. He was in an open field of heavily trampled grass. So much dust had been kicked up that it clouded out the horizon. Again he was holding the Token in front of him. Zo soldiers ran frantically past him, fleeing from an unseen danger. He turned as a black mass struck with impossible force, twirling the fleeing soldiers into the air. The ground trembled, and the explosion hurt his ears. The sky filled with their bodies twisting and turning. Horror trembled down his spine as he saw their faces and heard their screams.

  Raj tried to turn away from the looming black mass but his body refused to obey. He followed its form up into the sky, looking for its top but could see nothing but black above him.

  From the left, a piece of it shot out and came down towards him. His arm held the Token up to it as though it were some kind of weapon. The creature’s appendage bore down at an incredible speed then bounced back in a deafening collision. The Token’s glow had grown to a blinding glare. The appendage seemed to have collided with that glare, with the aura of light emanating from it.

  Raj’s head spun; he felt the same sensation of falling backward through a plane of glass. Then he was back in the Cleric’s office again standing over the book.

  Raj stepped back, then just stared at the book for a moment, trying to grasp the significance of what he had just seen. He felt like he wanted to throw up. It just didn’t make any sense. None of it. There had to be more of an explanation.

  On the bottom of the page a caption read: His Prison Wrent Marks Judgment Nigh.

  He turned another page.

  The man with the Token was now wearing a glowing white royal crown. The massive black creature appeared to be attacking from the left. This time he held a glowing white sword and a shield instead of the Token. Behind him, the little red plant and the animal sat on a spot of red ground surrounded by a group of people. The man appeared to be protecting them.

  A caption read: A Protector Delivers Whom Mercy Claims.

  He turned the page quickly before anything happened.

  The small white sword that the man had been carrying was now a shaft of light shooting into the sky from its hilt. The beam cut through an appendage of the black creature.

  Raj turned the page quickly.

  The drawing showed a destroyed landscape. Crops burned, earth scorched. Nothing lived. In the center of the blackened landscape sat the red plant and animal on the spot of red earth. Unharmed!

  A caption read: From Death’s Ashes New Life Springs. What Fire Burned Red Will Heal.

  “What is this fascination with that book, if I might ask?” Bedic’s voice startled him. He hadn’t heard the old man come in.

  “Oh, I'm sorry, I...” Raj tried to explain. He shut the book and stepped back.

  Bedic stood in the doorway staring at him with an amused grin. “You know this book is a compilation of many of the same stories that you yelled at my daughter for reading to your son. I'm having trouble understanding your obsession.”

  “What is this book? Where did it come from?”

  Bedic walked to the pedestal. “It’s called the book of Healing. It came to me as an inheritance.”

  “The book of Healing?”

  “Tell me something Mr. Handers, here you are digging through one of my most valuable books, causing who knows what kind of damage, and I delay calling to have you thrown out in order to save you some embarrassment, yet you linger. Is there a reason you’re still here talking to me?”

  Raj pushed past him to get to the door. He heard the old man take a deep, pensive breath behind him as he left the room.

  “Mr. Handers.” Bedic called from behind.

  Raj turned to see that Bedic had followed him into the hallway.

  “I've been thinking since our conversation. As I said, my daughter came by last night rather upset. You had quite an effect on her, it would seem. Something she said before she left has planted a seed of doubt in my mind.”

  Raj’s eyes narrowed.

  “She asked me if the stories I told her as a child were true. I couldn't figure out why in the world she’d bring that up. But now in the context of your son's illness and sudden disappearance, the explanation looks troubling.”

  Raj stepped towards him. “What do you mean? What stories?”

  “The only other time she's asked me that question she was about three weeks away from losing her oldest daughter to a horrible disease. So you can appreciate the kind of mind-set she was in at the time.”

  “She lost a child? I... She never told me.”

  “Well, we don't talk about it either. Not directly. Instead, she brings up these stories that I told her as a child. So here we are again only it's not her child this time. It’s yours.”

  “What were these stories?”

  “The same ones she's been reading to your son. Stories about healing.”

  Raj gave him an angered look. “Faith healing?”

  “You have no idea, young man, where either of us has been. You'd be wise to keep your criticism to yourself. I have done everything in my power to help her get past this. But she seems intent on punishing herself to the bitter end.”

  “I thought you said she died of disease?”

  “Does it matter? The fact is her daughter died, and she couldn’t prevent it. To her that was inexcusable.” Bedic let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. “She had completely unreasonable expectations of what she needed to do. If she'd just have been a little more daring, if she'd just had a little more... faith."

  Raj glared at him. “That's exactly why I didn't want her reading those stories to my son!”

  Bedic looked away. “If I'd known these stories would have caused her so much guilt I never would've read them to her.”

  “Where did she take my son?”

  “I told her the stories were figurative! Not to be taken literally! But, she wouldn't listen. She’d already decided what needed to
be done. But when it came time to act she didn't have the guts to do it. Her daughter died, and she saw this as being a result of her cowardice.” He whispered to himself, “It wasn’t her fault...”

  Raj rushed up to Bedic, grabbed him by the arms and shook him. “Where did she take my son?”

  Bedic looked up to meet Raj’s eyes. “This time it would seem she's found the courage. I believe she took your son to find Red Leaves… to be healed!”

  “What?”

  “I told her when she was a little girl that 'Red Leaves' grew in the center of the old capital.”

  “The old capital?”

  “Yes, Shishkameen. That's what she meant when she asked if the stories were true. She was asking if 'Red Leaves' was real, if it was still there in Shishkameen”

  “And you told her yes?”

  Bedic looked away and nodded slightly. Raj let go of Bedic. His legs wobbled, and he fell to the floor.

  “I thought telling her the truth would do more harm than good. She's fragile.”

  “She's going to feel pretty good when she finds out you lied to her.”

  His footsteps echoed down the stone hall as he stormed away.

  -

  Finally outside again, he hurried around the back wall of the school, wanting to return home and gather some things as quickly as possible. But as he turned the corner to head back into the city, a large stone archway blocked the walkway in front of him. “Not again!” he muttered.

  He took a deep breath and stepped around it. If he just closed his eyes and kept going, eventually he’d forget he saw it. He kept walking but the images from the book and his previous encounters with the arches flooded his mind, one after another, forcing him to remember. He opened his eyes and turned back. A pathway extended behind the archway and led back the way he’d come.

  His eyes followed the path as it rose towards the mountains in the distance. As before, he could see the side of the mountain in extraordinary detail even though it had to be hundreds of miles away. At the top of the path, he could see a white structure shimmering in the distant sunlight.

  “Shishkameen is that way,” Bedic’s cracked voice called with as much volume as it could manage from the school wall above him. He was pointing north towards the river while Raj was facing the mountain range due west.

  Raj looked up at him. “Thanks.”

  Raj turned back to the Archway and pointed. “What’s this?”

  “What is what?”

  Raj stared at the distant blue mountains and then back at Bedic, “Nothing.”

  “I would suggest you hurry before she gets too far ahead of you.”

  Bedic kept his arm up pointing towards the river.

  “Yeah, thanks,” he answered. “I know where the port is, old man,” he muttered to himself as he crossed the street away from the archway and headed back into the city. He had to pack first anyway.