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Authors: Gary Alan Wassner

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #epic

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BOOK: The Awakening
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Ruffin bowed deeply to his master before climbing atop the largest of the animals. As soon as he was settled upon it, the beast soared upward, circled the field and then sped off into the distance to take its place at the head of the throng. Colton watched in silence as the rest of the swarming hoard took off in noisy pursuit, disappearing quickly into the dense shield of dark clouds that moved relentlessly northward.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Angeline pulled upon the heavy ropes as soon as she spotted the lone traveler on the eastern horizon. The big bell chimed loudly, resounding throughout the tower and far into the countryside. Rella dropped her small trowel onto the soft earth and headed for the gates. Bethany lifted her head from the ancient scroll, marked her spot with a silver tab, and jumped up from her seat. Dahlia, Gretchen and Sevilla put away the cards they were studying upon the table, and headed for the tower. Rose and Jocasta dropped the bucket and brushes, led the horse to his stall, and hastened from the stables for the main building. Violet, startled by the sound, dropped her embroidery, slipped her feet into her sandals, and walked quickly out of her chamber toward the great hall, bumping right into Courtney who had just bounded down the narrow stairway from the kitchens. Emmeline, startled out of her deep reverie, opened her brown eyes wide, sat up straighter at the large table and awaited the assembly of Sisters.

They each took their place around the great slab of ancient wood, silent to a one. When all of the eleven seats were occupied by those still present in the tower, leaving only Tamara’s empty, Emmeline began to speak.

“Our dear Sister has returned. Shortly she will be among us once again,” she said lovingly, her dark skin illuminated by the flickering candles, enhancing its natural beauty. “Soon, we will know what we are to do. These are dangerous days, Sisters. We must choose carefully what paths we all will tread as the days go by. I pray to the First that Tamara has been successful on her journey,” Emmeline said, bowing her head in thought once again.

“She returns alone, as she departed,” Angeline advised, having seen only a single traveler on the horizon.

A few of the Sisters sighed and shook their heads.

“Did you really think the Chosen would accompany her?” Gretchen asked, wide eyed.

“I had hoped,” Violet replied softly, eyes down.

“As had I,” Jocasta said.

“Tamara is bold of heart. If there were need, she would have convinced Liam to join her. I am glad she returns alone, though it would have been an honor to welcome a Chosen into the tower,” Emmeline commented. “It bodes better for us that he felt not the need to join us here.”

“I am so nervous, I can barely sit still,” Dahlia said, tapping her fingernails upon the wood.

“Nervous?” Bethany questioned. “What have we to be nervous about?” she asked bewildered. “I can assure you that, come what may, tomorrow I will be pouring over the Tomes as usual. And you Dahlia, will be mending the Sister’s gowns as before and preparing the next day’s menu. Change will not come to the Tower of Parth so easily,” she concluded.

“How do you know that Tamara will not bring us news that will alter our lives forever? Were you not the one who questioned our purpose to begin with?” Jocasta asked.

“No, Sister. It was Tamara who suggested that our purpose may have changed. I merely related her thoughts to the passages in the Tomes that refer to us. But, if our purpose changes, I see no reason for our lives here to change as well. We have protected the map all these tiels. But we have also created a haven for travelers, an environment for study and learning, and a breeding ground for strong and stable horses, among other things. We have also learned how to grow the best of vegetables and to cultivate plants and flowers more abundant than anywhere else we know of. The value of the examples we set for women of all ages cannot be underestimated,” Bethany concluded.

“She is correct, Sisters,” Emmeline said firmly. “If we are no longer to be the guardians of the map, there are many other things that we need to preserve here in Parth.”

“The Tower stands upon hallowed ground. Beneath the stones and foundations of Parth, lies a juncture of the Lalas, a connection between many of the trees. We have been protected by the power that passes through the earth beneath our very walls. That is why we were bequeathed with the task of protecting the map,” Gretchen related.

“As the trees die, perchance that power wanes and the map is no longer safe here,” Angeline speculated.

“I suspect that you are correct in your thinking, Sister,” Gretchen replied.

“Maybe we will be told to turn it over to the Chosen,” Violet suggested.

“I think he would have come here himself, if that were to be the case,” Rella replied.

“There are other Chosen. Liam is not the only one.”

Emmeline listened carefully to the conversation buzzing around her. She knew that it was merely anxious worry that precipitated it, as the answers were surely forthcoming with the arrival of Tamara. It eased the tension of waiting, so she closed her eyes and settled into a calm, meditative state and anticipated the Sister’s arrival, while many of the others reflected upon the events at hand.

“Angeline?” Gretchen said to the tall, blonde girl. “Would you kindly greet our dear Sister at the gate? After all, you were the one within whose watch she arrived. She must already have reached the stones.”

“It would be an honor,” she replied, jumping up from the table, her long braid flying over her shoulder and nearly hitting her in the face.

They all watched as Angeline, lithe and strong, quickly made her way to the winding stairs and disappeared in moments.

Tamara dismounted and led Hector toward the gates. She was tired, but she was happy to be home. She was also very hungry, as she had not stopped to refresh herself or her horse since leaving Oleander’s woods. Nevertheless, her nagging hunger and overwhelming fatigue could not subdue her desire to tell the other Sisters about the events that transpired, and the incredible quest that she was asked to undertake.

I must choose who will come with me
, she thought as she slipped the bridle over Hector’s head.

Tossing it into a trough beside the outer gate, she loosened the girth around his now smaller belly and then placed the saddle carefully atop the fence. She slapped him tenderly upon his rump and sent him off to graze with the other horses in the fields beyond the Tower.

Where is everyone?
she reflected to herself.
I would have thought that someone would be here to welcome me home?

Tamara walked between the two pillars of stone that marked the entrance to the Tower grounds, and still she saw no one.

I wonder what time it is?
she thought, glancing at the sun which stood directly above her.
Perhaps they are all having their midday meal, she considered. Far be it that they should miss a meal on my account. I would have thought though, that someone would be looking out for my return
, she deliberated, disappointed.

Tamara walked downcast toward the great arch that harbored the doors to the Tower, when she saw Angeline emerge breathlessly from the portal ahead. It was the most welcome sight she could imagine. And strangely, it seemed fitting to her that it was Angeline who was the first Sister she saw.

Odd
, she thought.
I have been thinking my entire journey home whom I should ask to accompany me. It is as if my question has been answered.

She felt thoroughly satisfied with her decision, knowing intuitively that it was the right one. Tamara walked directly up to Angeline and took her hand in her own. Smiling as if drunk, she pumped it vigorously.

“It is so good to see you,” she beamed at her startled friend and now unknowing partner, as the two women headed for the Great Hall and the assembly of Sisters therein.

Chapter Forty

Preston could not resist running across the soft moss of the forest floor. He was still a young dwarf, regardless of the fact that his beard was as long as that of a grown man.

“It is beautiful in here,” he shouted backward in the direction he had left Elion, Tomas and Stephanie a few moments before.

The dark haired youth stopped abruptly in front of a wall of dense foliage. The greenery was so thick that he could barely see through it, and try though he might, he could not even part it with either his hands or his feet. Frustrated, he sat down upon the spongy ground and waited for his friends. He had not realized just how tired he had become until this moment, and since neither Tomas, his pretty, young friend Stephanie, nor Elion, was yet in sight, he closed his eyes for just a second. No sooner were they closed, than he was fast asleep. His body slumped against the barrier of leaves that had prevented him from running any deeper into the woods.

Preston’’s eyes sprung open and he immediately realized that he did not appear to be in the same place he had been only moments before. Still somewhat confused by the transition from the deep sleep he had fallen into to being awake, he was unsure if his eyes were simply still out of focus. What he saw around him did not seem to be possible.

Somehow, he had fallen through the barricade of branches and greenery, and now he lay upon his back, staring at the most magnificent tree he had ever seen. It was huge. From his position, he looked upward at it and it seemed to fill the entire sky. The branches were bent in great arches all around him and they hung heavily with leaves, perfectly shaped and fragrant. The smell was almost too much to bear. He nearly passed out just by continuing to breathe it in.

He lay upon the comfortable ground, wondering where he was and how he was going to find his friends, when he thought he heard a rustling sound behind him. Sitting up briskly, he turned his head in order to look toward where he thought the noise originated from. As he looked over his shoulder, he heard the noise again, only this time he was sure it came from somewhere in front. Quickly shifting his position once again, he snapped his head around, but he could not see anything moving at all.

Preston felt no danger. In fact, he felt safer than he had felt in days. He actually found himself laughing aloud for no apparent reason whatsoever. Surrounded by dense brush on all sides and covered by a canopy of heavy branches and luxuriant foliage, it was almost as if he was inside a protected area, a shelter, and out of harm’s way. And the odor was incredible!

He stood up and walked toward where he had first heard the sound, but there was nothing there. As he turned to survey the other side of the area, he felt something touch him lightly upon his back. He knew that he should have been startled, that he should have jumped and swatted at it as one would at an unexpected insect that alights upon one’s shoulder. But, it was so gentle a touch, and it seemed to warm his entire body, that all he could do was smile. He reached his hand slowly back just to feel it, perhaps to grasp it, with no trepidation in his movements at all. When his fingers encountered the source of the touch, he laughed again, as for some odd reason it was no surprise to him at all that it was the branch of a tree that fondled him.

Languishing in the feeling of comfort and well-being, Preston closed his eyes and could have remained there forever. He shifted his position slightly so that he could face what it was that touched him while never releasing the branch from his tender grasp. Just as he was about to attempt to speak, to communicate verbally with what had already touched his emotions so deeply, the leaves shimmered and shook, creating a sweet and sonorous sound like nothing he had ever heard before. They parted slightly, and he watched as Tomas, Elion and Stephanie walked through the opening.

“I see you have met Ormachon,” Tomas said, smiling at Preston.

“Ormachon? This is Ormachon?” Preston replied, startled. “I did not have the time to think about who or what it was. I cannot believe it,” he answered. “I never felt so safe before in my life,” he said, the Lalas’ branch still resting upon his arm.

“He likes you too,” Tomas laughed in response.

“This is amazing,” Elion commented, looking around. “I have rarely smelled anything so wonderful as this, not even in Seramour,” he said.

“It is the essence of life that pervades the area,” Tomas remarked. “What could smell better?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Is this truly a Lalas, Tomas?” Steph asked him, her bright green eyes sparkling.

Tomas smiled from ear to ear, the answer apparent upon his features. Never before had either Preston or Elion seen him so full of emotion. He gazed upward, and they both watched him as a look of complete elation overcame his features.

“Has he lived here all along? Right here, so close to town?” the girl continued to question her friend, though not really expecting an answer. “I passed through here countless times. How could I have missed something as wondrous as this?”

“He is seen only when he wishes to be,” Tomas replied. “And until now, the only other person who has approached him and has been allowed to view him, was Cairn,” he said.

Tomas walked closer to the huge trunk and placed both his palms flat upon it. He closed his eyes and was silent for a few seconds. The others respected the moment and said not a word, but they watched him with awe in their eyes.

“I have never been away from him for this long in my life. I feel as if I had suffered from a great thirst and it has at last been quenched,” Tomas finally said to the group around him.

The blonde haired boy stood beside what the others could now definitely see was the trunk of the great Lalas. It became clearer and more distinct than it was even a moment before, yet it seemed so full of life, so fertile, from the very first moment they all beheld it. They were neither astonished to see it loom so obviously before them now, nor to be able to suddenly distinguish the massive limbs and luxuriant foliage all around them, as one would have expected. It was as if they knew subliminally that it was there since the moment they stepped foot into this sheltered clearing, and now that Ormachon revealed himself in all his glory to them, they felt only satisfaction, not surprise. It felt so right, so correct, to be standing beneath these mighty branches.

Tomas raced upward into the tree itself, gingerly stepping upon one gnarly knob after another, that miraculously appeared beneath his feet as he ascended. Elion, Preston and Stephanie watched from below until he was high up in Ormachon’s arms and out of their sight.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” he shouted from somewhere above. “I will be down shortly,” he said.

Preston sat down once again upon a blanket of soft grass, careful not to lean against the tree itself, and Elion soon joined him after taking a brief stroll around the perimeter of the clearing. Stephanie bent her head back and attempted to follow Tomas with her eyes as he climbed, though she soon lost him in the foliage.

Oddly, only moments later, before they even had an opportunity to talk to each other, Tomas came scurrying down from the branches above. He had a grim look upon his face and it startled them all.

“Follow me,” he said to his friends in a hushed and troubled voice.

“What’s wrong?” Preston asked, and he stood up and walked to Tomas’ side.

“You will soon see,” the boy replied, ushering them both to a spot safely out of the clearing and into the shadows behind Ormachon’s massive trunk.

Stephanie stood next to Tomas and took hold of his arm, frightened by the tone of his voice. The elf and the young dwarf watched in awe from their concealed vantage point as a horse and rider came crashing through the wall of encircling bushes and pulled up sharply to a halt. Within seconds another horse, a massive warhorse, followed the first animal, and they could all see that in addition to the rider, there was another body being transported and it was lying unmoving across the saddle. They both stopped abruptly after entering Ormachon’s domain, surveying the area with looks of confusion and consternation upon their faces. Their horses were frothing at the mouths and dripping with sweat. It was obvious that they had been ridden hard and fast.

“The first rider is a woman,” Preston whispered.

“As is the unmoving one,” Elion observed.

“And the other is one of the Knights of Avalain. I can see his sigil upon his breastplate,” Preston remarked. “I wonder what could have caused him to run at such speed.”

“We will soon find out, I presume,” Elion replied.

As they watched undetected from their position, the group of pursuers arrived, led by a dark haired woman. The bushes seemed to part slightly at their approach, yet neither Elion nor Preston could see clearly through the space that their separation created. It was as if they were peering into a polished piece of quartz which distorted the images. All they could make out were lots of blurry figures scurrying back and forth.

The images grew sharper when they approached the opening.

“Orcs and trolls,” Preston said, his voice tinged with loathing.

“And humans…” Elion commented, “…all in one group.”

“She is the leader,” the dwarf said, as they watched the dark haired one give instructions to the others.

“I am frightened, Tomas,” Steph whispered to him.

He clasped his right hand over hers and the tension she felt disappeared at once.

“There is nothing to be afraid of here, Steph. Just stay out of sight for a while longer,” he said, calming her.

The words of the intruders were hard to distinguish. The noises sounded like they were being uttered from behind some kind of invisible wall that muffled them. They watched as the regal woman who had entered the area first, dismounted and stood facing her companion. She dropped what looked like a short sword or long dagger onto the ground before her, surrendering it to someone whose features they could not clearly discern. The Knight too got down from his steed and tenderly lifted the prone body that he brought with him off of his horse’s withers. He carefully laid it upon the soft ground and stood protectively in front of it, but then both he and the first woman to enter looked around them with bewildered expressions upon their faces, as if they were terribly confused suddenly and they could no longer understand where they were.

The pursuer gave some kind of instructions to her soldiers before stepping out of the woods herself and then through the opening onto the grass. The moment her booted feet touched the ground beyond the line of bushes, her face went deathly pale. She staggered slightly and her eyes looked upward, the whites clearly visible, as if she was fighting to remain conscious. For a fleeting second, an expression of calm crossed her face, and it even seemed as if her features were being illuminated by a light from above. But as quickly as it overcame her, it was gone, replaced by a grimace of violent hatred that was almost painful to gaze upon. She raised her hands protectively before her.

“It is a trap,” she yelled bitingly to her troops, but they could not hear her any more, stranded as they were behind the opaque barrier which seemed to solidify somewhat after she passed through it.

Preston and Elion heard a voice they did not recognize that seemed to emanate from within their own heads. They looked upon each other with expressions of awe, confirming that they both heard the same thing.

She is beyond hope. Her essence is already corrupted so totally that I cannot help her.

The woman looked like a snared animal with her head darting left and right, and her black eyes searching everywhere for a means of escape. When she realized that she was alone and that the others could not reach her, she turned to her apparent prey.

“These tricks will not save you,” she said, and she leveled her left palm skyward with her arm outstretched.

Try as she might, she could produce no fire in her hand, no weapon she could hurl at her adversaries, nor any dark and evil conflagration with which she could strike them down.

The Knight stepped forward, shielding both of the women he entered the area with from whatever might be cast upon them by their attacker, while the woman standing by his side moved to cover the prone body of the other one with her cape.

They stood there like animals, poised for the attack, waiting tensely for the first strike.

Do not attempt that again in my presence—a voice boomed out from all directions at once, filling their heads with the sound.

The dark haired woman cowered before it and began to look frantically around for its source. She backed up as far as she could, but when she touched the perimeter of the barrier through which she had recently entered, sparks flew up around her, startling her. She stepped forward quickly and crouched low to the ground. Her human features seemed to fade and become less distinct, the more frightened she became.

Meanwhile, the Knight of Avalain and the Lady surrounded their prostrate friend in an effort to protect her, yet it was clear by the expressions upon both their faces that they were no longer frightened. They too looked all around, searching for the source of the voice that had addressed their adversary, but their countenances were hopeful.

Twice your evil plans have been thwarted. Near Parth you failed, and now here. When thrice you fail, he will forsake you
—the words echoed in their minds for them all to hear.

Elion was standing and staring at the first woman who had entered the glen. His expression was one of tenderness, as if he had seen a long lost friend. Preston sidled up to him and the elf nudged him with his arm.

“She looks remarkably like Filaree. Could it be her mother, the Queen?” he asked the dwarf.

“Now that you mention it, I see the resemblance too. But what would she be doing out here in the woods, so far from Avalain?” he questioned.

“Only the First knows. But they are too much alike in their features and mannerisms for it to be mere coincidence,” Elion replied.

Tomas suddenly appeared beside his two friends, with Stephanie still holding onto his arm, as if he had been there all along.

BOOK: The Awakening
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