Mickey Reichert - Flight of the Renshai

Treysind and Colbey both laughed, and the elder continued, "We sort of thought you'd realized that when we passed through the Weathered Mountains."

Calistin could only stare. How could I miss a range of mountains? He recalled traveling amidst green hillocks and deep valleys, but he had expected rugged, snow-capped peaks and naked stone. Bearn lay nestled among the mountains, the castle carved directly from the granite slopes, so he supposed the terrain had not seemed strikingly different from normal.

Treysind sprang immediately to Calistin's defense. "When ya cuts through passes covered in green stuff, it ain't that diff 'rinter than normal forests is. An' it ain't like ya gived 'im much time ta look 'round an' enjoy tha view."

None of that mattered to Calistin. He found himself staring at the barren landscape with new eyes. Ultimately, the Renshai belonged here; or, at least, they once did. The tribe sprang from this hostile land at a time when their infants spent their first nights alone outside, to assure only the strongest received benefit of scarce resources. Here, the ancient Renshai lived and died in bloody battles fought against their neighbors. It had become a mantra to the Renshai that they would one day return to the homeland they had not occupied for centuries. "Next year," went a common celebratory prayer, "may we dance in Renshi."

"Where?" Calistin said softly, somehow knowing Colbey would properly interpret the question.

Colbey went right to the heart of the mostly unspoken query. "Renshi used to sit just east of Aerin. Now, some of it belongs to the Aeri but most to Shamir.You will travel right across it to get to Nordmir, which sits even farther eastward."

Calistin could not imagine a better tour guide. "You can show me where my people…" He amended, "Where our people originated. So much history-"

"No, Calistin." Colbey looked out over the Northlands with a clear wistfulness that defied his words. "I can't go with you any farther."

Calistin's heart felt as if it froze in his chest, no longer beating. "But… I… need you. Now most of all."

"No," Colbey repeated. "You never needed me. I just satisfied my urge to assess and interfere."

Calistin supposed the immortal Renshai spoke truth, yet he knew his life would have taken an entirely different turn without their meeting. "How will I ever know if I mastered those maneuvers you taught me?"

"You'll know. And you'll invent the rest and more. You have the drive, Calistin. And you're lucky enough to have the build and natural talent, too."

"But it will take me years."

Colbey laughed so hard, several children looked up curiously from their wool gathering, and Treysind smiled broadly.

Even Calistin could not stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upward. "Am I that funny?"

"Apparently, you inherited at least one thing from me. My damnable impatience. And that, Calistin, is no fair gift." Colbey glanced into the sky with an almost apologetic look. "I suppose it goes hand in hand with practicing oneself into oblivion in a quest for perfection. We cannot wait for anything and find fools nearly impossible to suffer. And it is that very curse that makes it impossible for me to accompany you any longer."

Calistin knew Colbey had been born in Renshi, had lived there for some time prior to the tribe's banishment. He had participated in the long and ancient exodus which had resulted in the Renshai leaving a trail of destruction and devilry through the West and East, earning the hatred of all the peoples of the world. "You're saying you don't want to look upon the world of your childhood?"

"I'm saying," Colbey said slowly, "that I can't. Everything an immortal does on Midgard leaves a mark well beyond his intentions. If I enter a city of Northmen, there will be a battle, and it will not end well for Aerin. I no longer have a right to participate in mortal combat, no matter how much I might crave it."

Calistin supposed he understood, but he yearned for Colbey's knowledge more than anything in the world. Like a drug, it had entered his system and become all-consuming. Nothing mattered but his next practice; it gripped him with all the raw, basic desire of an addiction. "Then I'll give up my battle.We can go back West, and you can train me."

Aside from a pained wince, Colbey ignored the suggestion. He had made his point. He had come merely to talk, and that decision had had consequences far beyond his intentions. "Calistin, I came to tell you something that I never actually said. Every time I broached the subject, we wound up burdened by explanations, in a different place."

Calistin studied his torke, trying to focus on his words rather than his own urge for just one more spar. Colbey's leaving bothered him beyond this one need. Once the elder left, Calistin would find himself with too much time on his hands to ponder all the information dumped upon him. He would have to decide how he felt about his past, his family, his blood. He would have to consider emotions he would rather pack away forever. His very platform, his understanding of reality, would collapse beneath him. "It's about my soul, isn't it?"

Colbey nodded, his expression unreservedly sober. "Your only hope to enter Valhalla comes through the bloodline you otherwise would never have needed to know. Had it not been for the spirit spiders, I would have left your situation as it was, your family foundation solid, and your mind unfettered with concerns for heredity."

Calistin lowered his head, uncertain. He waffled between wishing he had never found out and rage that no one had told him as a child. Once, he had demanded to know why his parents had kept this secret from him; another time, he had berated Colbey for telling him at all. He had a right to know where he came from, yet that knowledge came with pain and burdens for all involved. He realized now that he struggled with the same ambivalence about knowing what to do for his lost soul. "Without a soul, what hope do I ever have of reaching Valhalla? The purpose to which I dedicated myself since infancy, to which all Renshai dedicate themselves from infancy, no longer exists."

"The Valkyrie should never have told you."

Calistin might have agreed, had Colbey not since offered him hope. "But then I would have died worthy and never found Valhalla."

"Yes," Colbey agreed, "and her mistake opened the way for me to help you. Because now, instead of interfering with mortals, I'm only making up for another immortal's lapse. Calistin, I believe your only hope of finding Valhalla is the same way I did it."

"Immortality?" The suggestion confused Calistin. "But you said I'm not immortal."

"You're not," Colbey explained. "Yet."

Guarded hope arose, mingled with confusion. "Yet? Isn't immortality something you're born with?"

"Usually." Colbey glanced at the wool gatherers to assure none of the children came near enough to overhear their conversation. Though Northern, they also likely understood the Western tongue. "Because it's extremely rare, even since the beginning of the world, for immortals and mortals to interbreed. And, of course, you realize even immortals can be killed, they simply don't die of disease or age."

Calistin had never paid much attention to such details, or anything that did not pertain directly to Renshai and swordcraft. "I've heard elves have an end age. That they're not true immortals."

"Semantics." Colbey seemed resigned to the necessary tangents that allowed him to make his point. "Elves live centuries at least, millennia at best. When an elf 's time comes, his soul gets recycled into the body of a newborn. Without a passing, there can be no new elfin life. Cyclical immortality some call it, but immortality nonetheless. The Cardinal Wizards, when they existed, had a similar system. They chose their time of passing, and their souls joined that of their chosen successor, which allowed each to become subsequently more powerful." He winced at some distant memory. "Unfortunately, in my opinion, it also made them more and more crazy. Whether or not the previous Wizards became spiritual guides and assisted with magic, it could drive a man beyond insanity to have the thoughts and voices of others in his head."