Volume 1: Arc 3: Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This is a transition chapter. The next one is as well...sort of. You'll see. But this was important to set up his dynamic with people as he returns to Creva Mountain.

December 29, 29 R.E

The valley at the top of Creva Mountain shone in the distance like a sliver of light breaking through a door at night. It was like a beacon as it guided Rajac through the thickets and brambles of Creva Mountain.

With his soul-bound eyes, Rajac circumvented many of the dangers of the mountain as he made the easiest path up the jagged and twisted rock.

Surprise touched his face as he strode the last few steps towards the singular opening to the valley. Two Ventros stood on top of a hastily constructed palisade blocking the entrance to the valley with its high walls, as well as, its ballista-sized bolts lodged into the top third of the wall,

dissuading any from attempting to climb its height.

Rajac walked up to the palisade unconcerned. After all, this was his home. “Who goes there?” One of the men called down from his position on the top of the palisade. A single sheet of soft wind blew through the valley chilling Rajac as he tilted his head up for the border guards to see.

“Rajac!” The guard said surprised. “Yaka, its Rajac!” The other guard, Yaka, turned to inspect Rajac. “Rajac? Where’s Temos?” Rajac felt a knot tighten in his breast. This was a question he never wanted to be asked. “Kalos struck him down.”

Yaka closed his eyes in grief. His short, briskly cut hair fluttered into the wind under his leather-hide helmet that protected all but his horns. “It’s a shame Temos could not return in triumph. He was a great warrior. Kalos might have struck the final blow but it was that Identity Merchant who killed him.”

“Aye.” Rajac said in hearty agreement. He had already decided, after he spent some time with his family, he would track down that Identity Merchant and find retribution for Temos.

“Well, you’ll be glad to know we’ve taken care of him. He intentionally murdered a Council member; can’t have that, can we?” Yaka said, a pained grin on his face. Rajac sighed lamenting that dead had already been done. “No, I suppose not.”

Rubbing his hands against the cold, Rajac said, slightly impatiently, “Let me in, will you? It’s freezing out here.”

“Ah right. Danair, open the gate.” Yaka called to his fellow soldier.

The gate swung silently open and Rajac hesitated. It had been so long since he had been home. It would likely have changed much since he had been here last what with the 6500 Ventros that now populated the valley.

Taking a deep breath, Rajac walked into the valley as was met with a strange sight. Behind the wooden palisades, a city was being constructed on a grand scale. Using the stone of the mountain, cobbled streets were being laid in curving patterns around already constructed thick, stone buildings which looked to be a multitude of houses, commercial buildings and one or two governmental buildings.

As Rajac looked each and every way, awestruck, Yaka guided him through the maelstrom explaining a certain occurrence here and there as they walked through a mass migration of people moving throughout the newly constructed streets with a zeal unlike that seen in other cities.

Soon, though, Yaka guided him out of the city to where grassland still remained. Here, Rajac saw his family’s old farm. Now, though, it was surrounded by others of a similar kind. Many men and women were tending fields lined in rows with crops of many hues.

It was not long before he came to his family’s door where Yaka left surreptiously. He announced, unbidden, that he had a meeting he was late for.

Rajac stood in front of the door, his heart beating rapidly, and knocked once. A shuffling of footsteps met his ears as he strained to hear, his nose pressed right up to the door.

The door opened unexpectedly in his face. Rajac blinked in surprise as a Ventros woman, in her mid-teens opened the door. She had long, black tresses that hung to a point just below her earlobes. Strangely, she wore a tunic cut off at the sleeves showing a fine musculature. She even had a sword hanging at her hip!

“Nisa…” Rajac spluttered. Nisa tilted her head, an odd looked in her eyes. She scanned Rajac up and down taking in his thick frame, scarred body, and long, black lock, a mirror image of hers.

“Rajac…?” Nisa said slowly. She repeated herself before Rajac could say anything. “Rajac? Rajac, is that really you?”

Before Rajac knew what was happening, Nisa threw herself on him.

“Rajac!” She cried, a blanket of tears flowing from her eyes. “We thought you were dead! Only one letter got through, you know, in all the years you were gone. Just that one right after you left.”

Rajac awkwardly patted her back as he felt a surge of guilt well up in him. In truth, he had only sent a single letter to his family. He left it with Bella as he left Thrensford to send by Raven.

“I know. I know.” Rajac said absently as he guided her inside. Nothing had particularly changed inside as he ducked his head under the door.

“Come.” Rajac said as he guided Nisa to the kitchen table. “Tell me about your life. I have missed so much.”

As Nisa sat, she wiped her eyes gently and said, “Father has kept on the same as before. After you left, he took on most of your duties while I began to take some of the smaller chores. When he heard you died, he grieved for days. But, by that time, we all expect…” She paused, wiping a tear from her eye.

“We all expected that you died long ago. So, he took it on the chin like a Rashak should and continued on about his life even when the other clans, all the sudden showed up. Right now, he’s doing what he always has done. It’s harvesting season so he’s in the fields.

Mother was much the same. She coddled me more, I think, after you left. But,” Nisa gave a small smile, “I don’t think it took. I was never the most obedient child. After I began to become an age where I helped to work in the fields, mother began to go into the fields with us. That was, until the other clans arrived. She took it all in stride; as if she had expected, long ago, that you would succeed. The news of your death took her harder than it took father. She spent many days cloistered in her room and the only thing that brought her out of her room was an invitation to sit on the Council.

I think she was looking for any distraction to keep her mind busy at that point. Usually, it is the head of the clan that takes the seat, at least that is what the Council says, but it is probably more complicated than that. I heard that Temos Manos was younger than father and he was on the Council.” Nisa said conspiratorially.

As she looked at the pained expression on Rajac’s face, she clasped a hand to her mouth horrified. “My Gods, I’m sorry. Many here speak of Temos in such a way. He is like a hero to them. They shout his accomplishments for all to hear that everyone knows how he saved our race.”

Did they now? Rajac mused to himself. He felt a small pang of jealously at the fame Temos had acquired but shoved the feeling away. He wanted no glory; it was enough that his race was safe. If Temos would be the one remembered for the deeds they accomplished together, so be it. He had died after all.

Rajac would have other accomplishments attached to his name. While Temos, he had this. It was the least Rajac could do for his friend.

“It quite alright sister. I only knew him for a short time. And his death seems like a distant memory. I am glad his memory is cherished here. He deserves it.” Nodding his head to her, he said, “Please continue.”

“After Mother took the Council seat,” Nisa said, shifting in her seat so her back stood straight as an arrow, “She has spent a great deal of time helping to plan the construction of the city. There has even been talk of building a trading route to one of the ‘duke’s’ cities.”

“What about you?” Rajac asked softly. It appeared as if Nisa was reluctant to talk about herself with her longwinded explanations of the daily lives of mother and father.

Nisa ducked her head under her copious hair. “After you left, I was furious with you. So furious, I did not speak to you for weeks before your departure. I am sure you remember. I think, during that time, I was angrier that you were leaving me than the fact that you were actually leaving.

I promised myself, that if…when you returned, I would not let you leave without me. So, I began to train myself in the same way you did from when I was seven. Even though I did not have the Four Forms of the Ventros Sword Style book, I knew enough to where I could complete the first two forms without magic. I watched you practice them for years, after all.”

Nisa had a small smile on her face as she looked up. “After the other clans’ arrival, I was able to procure a copy of the book and a Sadat, and just last month, I was able to master both forms.”

Rajac was astonished. She would actually go through all that for me. Even as he felt love blossom for his sister, a thought, unbidden, began to circulate in the back of his mind. ‘What have I ever done to deserve this kind of devotion?’

“I think…” Rajac said, his mouth somewhat dry, “I think you have accomplished your goal. But, I don’t think I will be leaving anytime soon. My goal, when I left, was to help return the Ventros to the world. As they are all here now, I think I will stay awhile and help stabilize this new city.”

“Would you tell me your story?” Nisa asked almost shyly. “You now know mine.” She added defensively.

Rajac nodded and began to tell her about his time searching for the Ventros. He lamented about the lost opportunity with Bella, his journey to the capital of Gerosh and speaking to Alberon, his unexpected journey to Abria and his subsequent capture, his years in the Circle he mostly skipped over due to their violent nature, his meeting with Temos is the forest and the eventual escape from the province.

When he got to defeating Kalos and falling into the cavern, Nisa already had her hand over her mouth, scared for him even though he sat right in front of her. A bemused smile touched Rajac’s lips as he told of his many months in the cavern, again skipping over how he ‘survived’ due to its gruesome nature.

As he finished with his return to the valley, Nisa, of course, had a few questions. He had been many places and done many things in the years that he had been out in the world while she had done very little other than train.

While many of the questions were generic and easily answered, a few of her questions Rajac avoid or refused to answer due to their sensitive natures. These included ‘How many people did you kill in the Circle?’ ‘How did Temos die?’ ‘How did you find your way out of the Cavern?’

Rajac gave a vague answer on this question because, even though she was his sister, the existence of soul-bound objects was a secret all experts took to their graves. It was their weak point. If any knew of its location, they would be much easier to kill.

One question, though, made Rajac pause as he glanced out a small, stain-glass window inset into the wooden wall. “What Auxiliary Magic did you make? You said you made one a little while ago?”

Rajac turned back to Nisa at that and willed the metallic ball into existence. Nisa’s eyes opened wide as she looked at the ball and asked, with a hiss, “May I touch it?” Rajac nodded. He could see no harm in that. It didn’t seem to be of a poisonous or mind-altering nature, so there was no harm

“It’s strange.” Nisa said as her hand slid off the small ball like it was covered in oil. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks like metal but it is not rough but slick, almost greasy.” With a ponderous look, she said, again poking at the ball, “Go to a metalsmith, he should be able to help you out.”

Rajac nodded. With both of their stories over, Rajac and Nisa lulled into lighter talk. He began to feel a comfort rise in him as he relaxed in his chair and talked with Nisa, and his parents, who arrived at dusk, late into the night.

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