Terry Simpson - Etchings of Power

Halvor’s arm swept away from him in a wide gesture. Boulders tore from around him, fell, and sent up a great showering roar of water and debris when they impacted around his feet. His tinkling voice penetrated the din, “Yes. Look to the lands. The shade advances. They are more powerful than any thought.”

His eyebrows knitting with doubt, Ryne asked, “I’ve seen a few, but surely they could be no real threat? Not after the destruction they suffered at the hands of the combined Denestian armies.”

“You invite defeat by underestimating your enemy,” Halvor said.

“What did they do with your leaders?”

“We do not know, but those who resisted were killed and their children with them.The remaining masters did not want to risk them discovering Stone and all our people living there so they gave of themselves.”

“I’m sorry, Halvor.”

The Svenzar waved a massive hand. “It is Humelen’s will.”

With that wave, the Svenzar’s stoneform changed. His great size reduced until he stood the same height as the Sven. His feet splashed through the water, sending up a shower of lilies as he strode to them. The lilies landed back onto the roiling surface of the pond in impossibly perfect order, bobbing as if they’d never been disturbed. Ryne took an inadvertent step backwards before he forced himself to stand his ground.

“Seeing as you accepted the summons, it means you have answers to what the masters asked of you, and questions for me.” Halvor stopped just before he reached them.

“Who am I? Why am I here?” Ryne asked before he stopped to think.

Halvor smiled, and stone chips fell from his face like crumbling earth kicked off a precipice. “You ask questions without providing answers. That is no way to bargain.”

Ryne exhaled. Halvor tried his patience during his last visit as well. Ryne knew better than to get angry as he did then, so he answered, “Light to balance shade. Light to show honor. Honor to show mercy.” Light’s Tenet. “Why do you require this from me anyway?”

The Svenzar’s face smoothed in quiet contemplation, his gaze fixed on Ryne. When Ryne said nothing more, Halvor’s face brightened. “You’re a warrior.”

Ryne gritted his teeth. “That’s it? The answer to my first question? So many years waiting and you tell me something I already know?” His tenuous control waned with his frustration.

“I told you. You already have the answers, yet you still seek them. Now you must complete the ceremony.”

“And if I don’t?” Ryne countered.

Halvor’s lips turned downward. “Again, you already know this.” He locked gazes with Ryne. “You stay here forever, lashed to Humelen’s and Liganen’s wills.”

Ryne knew the Svenzar spoke the truth, and he could do nothing about it. If he did not finish this, he would remain trapped by the gods of Forms.

“The elements of Mater must exist in harmony,” Ryne said. The first Principle of Mater.

Halvor gestured to Ryne’s body. “And that which covers you? Your Scripts?”

Ryne grimaced. He sought answers, and instead, he faced questions. Ryne pointed to the intricate, lifelike artwork of his Scripts. “A representation of Mater-the core of all creation and the elements and their essences that exist within it. The solids of the Forms, the liquids of the Flows, and the energy of the Streams.”

The Svenzar’s stone face crinkled as he beamed. “You have learned well that which you already know.”

“I’m not here for the games and riddles.” Ryne scowled. “If I already knew as you say, I wouldn’t be here.” The red wave began to roil once more.

Halvor’s voice changed to a monotone. “We may smile and laugh, but the Svenzar never play. And I have told you no riddles, just the truth.”

“Then tell me why you required this of me.”

“Because, in the past you abused all the Tenets and Principles when using your Scripts. You were as a child with no parent to guide you.”

Or a man drunk from his own power. “And now?” Ryne asked.

“Now, you are still a child, but one who has shown a degree of maturity. Remember, the most important Discipline is control. Without it, you are nothing.”

Ryne balled his hands into fists. “I didn’t come here for a lecture. Just tell me what my purpose is in this world?” The primal elements outside beat at him as his bloodlust rose to a boil. He wanted to strike out, while another part of him struggled for some semblance of control. It would be pointless, not to mention fatal, to lose himself within the Svenzar’s home. Something about the lily pond and its impeccable flowers drew Ryne’s attention, tickling a memory.

As if he sensed Ryne’s impending rage, and Sakari’s small shift to attention, Halvor slowly melted into the floor. His body became one with the stones in the water.

“What’s my purpose?” Ryne shouted, the boiling within him surging with increased violence. Instead of forcing back the feeling, he embraced it and guided it deep inside himself until it seemed to float like the lilies on the pond’s surface.

“To battle.”

“Is that all I am? Death, destruction and suffering?” Ryne yelled as the Svenzar faded. There must be more. Dear Ilumni, make it so there is more to me than this.

And just like that, he found tranquility. A moment later, his eyes blurred as a dizzy spell snatched at him.

Halvor’s voice tinkled all around. “You are what you choose to be.”

An emptiness filled Ryne. What was the point of coming all this way if he would end up with the same issue as before. “What if I don’t wish to make these choices anymore? What if I no longer wish for battle? What if I just wish to be left alone?” With his bloodlust gone, the Mater within the Entosis settled evenly about him.

Halvor reappeared in the wall. “That time has passed. Your enemies know you’re here. They will seek you out. Your days of rest are done.”

Ryne opened his mouth.

“A way to your answers has been provided for you. A way to make things right. If you seek it.”

“What way?” Ryne asked.

“You’ll know him when he is ready.” Halvor paused and cocked his head to one side. “Be careful what you pray for. The gods march.”

Ryne fell, his mind spinning as if he spiraled into cavernous depths. Darkness engulfed him.

Dimly aware of her eagles following high above, blood thundering in her ears as she fled for all she was worth, Irmina crashed through brush and branch, flower and fauna, vine and leaf, her breaths a burning rasp in her chest. Sweat drenched her shirt, causing it to cling to her back and chest and trickle down into her crotch. Behind her the rockhound’s heavy footsteps pounded, and more than once she heard the splintering crash of wood as it sheared through another tree trunk, head first, not bothering to skirt them in its pursuit.

She’d barely managed to reach the Nevermore Heights’ Cloud Forests ahead of the beast, having to rely on a headlong plunge off a precipice to gain her some distance. A glance over her shoulder after she landed and rolled, showed the mottled girth of the stoneform creature pacing at the cliff’s edge. Smiling, she relaxed. That had been her first mistake. The loud thud of the beast landing behind her sent her scampering away once more. Her second mistake was thinking the undergrowth and thick boles within the forest would win her a big advantage. They certainly did slow the rockhound, but it was inevitably catching up.

Thighs numb from the constant pumping of her legs, Irmina continued to flee. Through the brush, another mottled form sped adjacent to her. A second hound. Her heart thumped louder, and she drove her legs harder. The one pursuing her roared, the sound reverberating through the air as it announced its territorial claim. A whine issued from the new hound, and it drew to a halt, its gaze still fixed on her before the beast passed from the edge of her vision.