Heroes, in the minds of the people, are those who have risked the one thing most precious to all -- their lives -- to fulfill a need to be more, and to mean more, to others than would be expected within a normal environment. An unusual circumstance and unusual factor humans may share with the gods.
We have followed our young saviors, for we now may call them this, from their naive beginnings. It now is the time of reckoning for these three, the time of the great cataclysmic disturbance I and all of the other immortals have feared would occur.
Our old enemy, Baalsa'n, is going to attempt yet another coup. We cannot allow him to have the success he had during the Varkanian situation. We must rely on children to accomplish the task at hand. This has come about because of our resistance to intrude, but no longer can we wait.
Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth, an old adage we must rely on now. There were no more choices. The people have strayed from the teachings, but the bloodlines are still there. We use them and now must wait for the consequences.
So, returning to our story, what will happen next . . .
Rab'k entered the village, asked where Rena’x's tent was and trotted his horse through the place of his birth once again.
He was tired and his injury weren't quite healed. The riding kept his wound aggravated. Also, he had to fight off a band of thieves in the mountains earlier that day. But he was more than their equal, even injured. He killed a few and drove the rest back into the canyons and ridden on. The fight did reopened his wound, but his desire to deliver his small package kept him driving toward his goal both day and night.
He found the tent, marked with the standard of his family, jumped down, identified himself to the guards by showing the tattooed emblem on his forearm and entered the tent.
"Who goes there?" A shout came from the darkness where the candlelight was low.
Rab'k recognized the voice. "Father, it's me," he answered, moving swiftly across the floor to embrace the only man he respected.
Rena’x was a large man like his son. Only age now was taking its toll and though stronger than most men, he was weaker than Rab'k remembered. Rab'k was gone for half his life now; much had changed.
"So, Father, I believe I have a map that will truly lead us to the Ahar'n," Rab'k started immediately telling the news he had ridden so far to reveal.
"Your decision to bring my life and Garv'n's together was accurate. He knew many things and was wise in his own way. I’ve brought a map he discovered over years of research showing the location. I believe we must ride immediately. The signs tell us the great scourge is at hand."
Smiling, Rena’x was always thrilled at his son's enthusiasm. He embraced his son again. Rab'k winced with pain; drawing back a bit from the great hug Rena’x was giving him.
"You're injured, son. Come, let's have something done about that wound before we do anything else. Then we’ll talk," Rena’x helped his son lie down on a divan at one side of the tent.
"Woman, come take care of my son!" he shouted to his nearest concubine. She scurried to the bedside and began to remove Rab'k's tunic carefully, trying to not disturb the wound that was now very swollen, sore and seeping some blood. Vil'n's blade had cut deeply.
Rena’x, after making certain his son was being well cared for, stepped outside his tent and began to shout to those passing by.
"My son, Rab'k, has returned to us this day. He brings with him news for great rejoicing. Let us prepare a great feast to welcome him home!"
Several of those walking by stopped, listened to what Rena’x had to say, and gave a great shout. They scampered away in all directions to spread the news and gather the food and drink for a celebration.
Rena’x went back inside the tent, walked to his son's side, leaned down to make certain all was being taken care of.
Rab'k reached into his waistcoat lying beside the couch and handed his father the small manual. Rena’x turned and walked with it to a small table, sat and began to study it closely.
After a moment, he raised his head, gave his son a generous smile, and said, "Yes, I too believe your friend, Garv'n, truly discovered the whereabouts of the Ahar'n. I often thought it was moved to such a location, and what more appropriate place for the Ahar'n to be than Voravia's land."
Rab'k was now sitting up on the couch; his wound now dressed.
"Voravia? The witch? Why is that appropriate? What does she have to do with all this?" he asked
Rab'k was surprised by the mention of her name though he did remember her from that long ago meeting in the great palace of Baalsa'n.
Living in the flat lands, he, like the rest of the population there, believed the best thing one could do with Voravia was to ignore her. Avoiding her avoided the trouble she created. He followed that simple rule and her form of trouble affected his work very little.
"Some secrets, my boy. You are not the only one who was sent from our land at the bequest of Baalsa'n. Voravia was sent to the western coast many years before you were. Now, it would seem she was sent there, though unknowing, as protector of the place where the Ahar'n is hidden,” Rena’x explained.
“Another man was sent to the central part of the country, to report the feelings of the people, to report back whether these flatlanders would take up the standards of our god, Baalsa'n.
But I believe he died recently and we lost that source. Baalsa'n ended by cursing him. He took a family there and his devotion to his daughter became more important than our cause."
"Voravia, the other, and you, Rab'k, are half brother and sister, each born to a different woman, but the offspring of Baalsa'n himself," he stood solemnly watching Rab'k as he spoke these words.
Rab'k looked at his father with astonishment. He could not believe what he was hearing.
Rena’x is not my father! How can this be possible! Why did Baalsa'n do these things? I am brother to Voravia, why was I not told this before?
Rena’x waited for his son to say something.
"If I am the son of Baalsa'n, why have these secrets been kept from me," Rab'k said, regaining his composure.
"Baalsa'n felt you should not know, but since he as returned, he watched over each of you," Rena’x explained, reluctant to continue because now he was losing his son.
"There were many things to be done. He wanted you to accumulate riches, he wanted the other to gain information, and he wanted Voravia to protect the place of the Ahar'n, it would seem.
Voravia and the other were the first to go into the flatlands; you were much too young."
"If he knows where the Ahar'n is, why doesn't he get it himself?" Rab'k asked, still angry and frustrated.
Rena’x explained.
"The Ahar'n cannot be taken by the gods from its resting place. One man, Areb’l, the first Guardian in our world, placed it in this secret place and the other gods sealed it with an ominous spell only another Guardian can release.
And there have been other Guardians, but the time was not at hand for Baalsa'n, so the Ahar'n has remained in its vault for these thousands of years, and all but forgotten. Even now there is probably a Guardian, but he or she is unaware of it.
The gods are no longer known by the people in the flat lands, they have foolishly dismissed them," Rena’x continued his story, revealing much Rab'k had never known.
"How would anyone know this Guardian?" Rab'k asked, realizing that if the foreseen event was to take place, a Guardian must be found who could possibly be forced to release the Ahar'n.
"There are some distinct factors, mostly in appearance, known about the Guardians. First, they are tremendously strong; secondly, they seem to possess even supernatural powers when drawn into a dangerous situation; thirdly, their faces seem to show a great wisdom and their hair becomes streaked, much like a sorcerer or sorceress, as they begin to become the one entrusted with the care of the Ahar'n.
They are not born with these traits, but when the need arises, the powers of the gods develop them. These are da
ngerous and ominous foes if you are their enemy.
The Ahar'n will be protected, but Baalsa'n has always felt that, by waiting long enough, all sorcerers and sorceresses would have stopped passing along their wisdom to others.
Should a Guardian begin to develop, it would be in ignorance and the potential for that person being deceived would exist. Baalsa'n feels this person could be tricked into submitting the Ahar'n without difficulty.
"Is this the great event? The Ahar'n could be handed to someone by this Guardian?" Rab'k asked, now pacing the floor of the tent, his wounds forgotten.
"Yes. You or Voravia must be there when that time comes." Rena’x answered, watching Rab'k, who had always been his son, walk back and forth sometimes holding his lip, as if in thought.
"Then this means I must return and go to Voravia. Does she know?" Rab'k asked.
"No, but it is soon to be revealed." Rena’x said, now knowing the mechanism for the great event had begun. Rab'k's full attention was now centered on pursuing the eventuality of the Event. One could almost see the plans being made.
Suddenly there was a commotion outside. The guards at the tent front stopped a small group of people. Several men were dragging a beautiful young woman to the tent and were clamoring to bring her before Rena’x.
Rab'k and his father walked out of the tent and confronted the crowd.
"Who is this woman?" Rena’x shouted, holding his hand high for quiet. The voices stopped.
"This woman had some stranger in her tent last night. She will not tell us who he was nor why he was there. He has disappeared now, but we thought you should punish this one for her wicked ways," a man who seemed to be the leader of the pack spoke up.
Rena’x looked at the girl. He noticed the attempt at petulant guile, but there was also fear in her eyes. He felt nothing for this woman and should have her stoned, but maybe there was something to be learned from her.
He was fairly certain another stranger, Arcon’n, wasn't from the wastelands though he wasn't sure. That one had disappeared only a fortnight ago.
He motioned for the crowd to release the woman and pointed toward the tent entrance indicating he wanted her to go inside. She bowed her head, ran into the tent and stopped. Rab'k and Rena’x followed.
The two men sat together while the girl stood in the center of the tent, shaking from fear, clasping and unclasping her hands.
"What is your name? What is your tale, woman?" Rena’x asked.
"My name is Jasryn, sire. I have no tale, my Lord," she answered with a quiver in her voice, looking first at one and then the other. "Something happened and I was afraid to tell."
"You can tell us without fear, my girl. Let us know what happened and we will not harm you." Rena’x insisted.
Rab'k sat without expression on his face, curious about how a stranger could have entered the encampment without being noticed. Some things were different; maybe his father was weakening in his old age.
But then Rena’x is not my father, but only human.
"I saw a man walking through the camp. He was a man of great strength as could be easily seen and his face was handsome. I thought it must be his lordship, Rab'k, whom I heard was returning.
I want Rab'k to sire my children, so I laid a trap for him and took him into my tent. But, sire, it was not Rab'k. He told me he was a scout for Lord Rab'k and I must wait for Lord Rab'k's arrival." She let the words roll from her, shaking constantly.
"How did you know Lord Rab'k was coming back?" Rab'k asked, amused by the fact this girl had no idea who he was.
"It was revealed to me in a dream, sire," she answered, trying to conceal nothing. She felt she had done no wrong; her story was theirs to hear if they wanted. She now only feared for her life.
"In a dream? How stupid, girl. Dreams mean nothing . . ." Rab'k started demeaning her, but he noticed Rena’x shaking his head. He paused a moment then added, "But let us hear yours."
The girl told them about her dream.
"There was a great play for power that ripped the skies and tried to tear the world apart. Rab'k was to be one of those involved and would be one to help change the face of the world, as we now know it.
There were others, men and women, who come to face each other in the first battle. There would come many wars; wars such as this world has never known. Rab'k will be there." the girl told her story slowly.
She paused then added, "I-I wanted to be the mother of the children of such a man. That's all I wanted. The scout said Rab'k was to come soon, so I sent him away last night to tell his master of my desires."
She stopped and watched these two men who held her fate in their hands. They looked at each other for a moment, and then turned back to the girl. She felt extremely vulnerable, shaking so hard now she could hardly stand.
Rena’x paused a moment longer then said, "You may go, but do not tell anyone else this story, or you will die by stoning Now go!"
"I have not told a soul, my lord. I will never tell it. Oh, thank you, thank you," she was whimpering as she backed toward the entrance. As soon as she felt the flaps of the tent brush past her side, she spun around and disappeared into the encampment.
"The dream may be Baalsa'n's way of telling us of what is to come. I think the Ahar'n is not going to be taken easily, if this story comes true," Rena’x said, turning to Rab'k, "but it seems your way is clear. Besides, you have a volunteer."
Rena’x chuckled at the last but stopped when he saw the look on Rab'k's face. Rab'k was deep in thought and far away from the moment.
"Who was this 'scout'? Doesn't that description make you think? Could the Guardian have been here? Why? Is there some reason he wanted to know I came back? There are too many questions about this dream -- assuming the dream means anything at all." Rab'k said, malice showing in his face.
Rena’x didn’t interrupt.
Rab'k continued, "Dreams aside, we know the man was here and only recently. There is only one explanation; he was here to determine where I was to be when the great cataclysm occurred. He was a spy to assure I wasn't where the great battle was to occur. But, I shall fool him. I leave at dawn to search out this man and kill him." Rab'k suddenly leaped to his feet. "Please have my things readied for I must rest awhile before I leave."
Rena’x only looked at his son with sadness, "Yes, my son. But you are weakened by your wounds, shouldn't you rest longer? The time is not yet at hand."
"We don't know when the time is? I think that is in Baalsa'n's hands, but there are others. If this Guardian has, or goes to the Ahar'n first, there will be little we can do to control him once he knows the power he has. He will no longer find it necessary to scurry away in the dark.
No, it is more likely he will come looking for us. And with help. We must act now." Rab'k was pacing again, punching about with his fists to emphasize the points he was trying to make.
Rena’x, without speaking, signaled to one of servants who came immediately and dropped to one of knees in salute and whispered, "Yes, master."
"Please see to it Lord Rab'k has everything he needs to travel and travel hard tomorrow," Rena’x spoke softly, so he would not interrupt Rab'k.
Today, I have lost my son. May he go with the god of our faith and may they together find a way to make our world a place we want to hold dear to our hearts. My time to die is near but my people should enjoy the blessings of the children of a god.
He watched Rab'k trudging back and forth across the tent floor and smiled to himself.
You did well, Rena’x, this man is a credit to you and to the god who claims him now. He will be known throughout the world.
Rab'k finally tired and lay down to rest, he too dreamed of great battles in magnificent wars. He was there and all knew who Rab'k and his father were.
The night passed calmly.
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