One evening, two weeks after the mourning period had ended, Pyaren summoned
Ryan out to the fields. There, hunkered in the shadows of the tall grass,
Pyaren finally had the heart to ask Ryan that he tell him the tale of the
nightmarish journey.
"Are you sure you want to hear it?" Asked Ryan worriedly.
"I must."
Ryan nodded, and then began explaining the dark adventure from beginning to end. He went into great detail, and Pyaren listened carefully and attentively. As Ryan spoke, Pyaren's eyes grew serious, and then gave a look of un-withering rage. His vengeance and his malice were teeming out of his eyes. Ryan saw a side of Pyaren he hadn't before; a cold, merciless, dark shadow. "You are not the first to speak of such a creature." He said suddenly in a deep, powerful voice.
"What?" Ryan was alarmed, and his eyes opened wide.
Pyaren cleared his throat, and began to speak like a prophet of the ancient Isilian scrolls. "Over a thousand years ago, the last of the Wizards lived in Isilius. They were the wisest, and most highly regarded in all of the land, for they had in their possession a relic with an extraordinary power. It was a glass sphere that could read the future and project it as an image for all who looked upon it." Ryan stared at Pyaren in disbelief. "The sphere chose when and for how long it would read, and the Wizards referred to these readings as glimpses."
"That cannot be possible!" Ryan finally broke out.
"Why can it not?" Answered Pyaren calmly.
"Because," Ryan spoke in a troubled voice. "That kind of power is beyond this Earth!"
"You mean it is beyond men." Ryan looked at Pyaren, perplexed. "Ryan, the are many powerful forces in this world beyond human beings. Just as we cannot fly!"
"But that is different!"
"Only in your mind! We cannot move objects without touching them, though a Wizard can! Neither can we climb the wall of Sarod as an insect! Would you tell me now that something greater isn't possible?" When Ryan didn't respond, and only sat in thought, Pyaren continued. "The sphere projected images, glimpses, of future events, and on papyrus, the Wizards recorded all they saw as if it had already happened, and intended to bind these glimpses together as chronicles of the future. . .but as time passed, and the events recorded began to happen, they came to realize that the sphere did not read in the order of time.
"Finally, having given up searching for a theme in the given order of the glimpses, they bound all of the recordings into six scrolls- collectively called the Eretuf- which grew thicker as the sphere continued to read. The people of Isilius grew frightened as they knew- not when the events would occur- only that they would occur. And, on an evening like tonight, Isilius was attacked by the dragons of Mount Sirus."
'So there are dragons in Mount Sirus!' Ryan thought to himself. 'Or at least there were. We did not encounter any, could they still be there?'
"The attack had been spoken of in the Eretuf, but neither the men nor the Wizards were prepared, for there was no knowing when it would come. The fire-spitting drakes outnumbered and overpowered the Wizards, who were mostly sleeping at the time and hadn't the power to stop the attack."
"I don't understand why you're telling me this."
"All of the Wizards were slain," Pyaren continued as if he did not hear Ryan. "And the city was laid to waste, flattened and decimated by the fire and force of the dragons. And then the dragons found the sphere, which was hidden in a secret temple in the heart of the city, and brought it back with them to Mount Sirus. There, they destroyed it, for it was the largest concentration of natural light in all of the land." Ryan suddenly gave Pyaren a strange look of puzzlement. "The goodness of the heart and the soul," Pyaren explained, "the Wizards called 'natural light'. The dragons sought to rid the land of it, and usher an era of darkness."
It seemed to Ryan that Pyaren had told this story many times before, perhaps to a large audience of family and friends, for it came out a long, well-prepared speech.
"How do you know all this? And why are you telling me this?" He asked.
"The men who escaped found refuge in Anchorage, and there they put in writing the history of Isilius. The scrolls are still there today; I have seen them. But the scrolls of the Eretuf, they were left behind in a cavern in the Isil Mountains, and to the best of anyone's knowledge, they remain there to this day. Now, Ryan," Pyaren said softly. "It may interest you to know that the most famous glimpse in the scrolls speaks of a shadow, in Mount Sirus, that desires only the destruction of all natural light. Somehow, it would draw power from this." He paused for only a moment and let Ryan straighten his thoughts. Then, he whispered slowly and coldly. "This shadow is real, Ryan! You have described it to me, and it is the reason why all who gaze toward the dark mountain tremble for a brief moment. It is the presence."
"But what is it?" Ryan whispered.
"I do not know." Answered Pyaren weakly. "I know only that its sole motivation is the destruction of natural light."
"And there is an abundance of natural light in humans?" Ryan uttered slowly.
"Yes." Hissed Pyaren, as he realized that Ryan was beginning to understand. "Natural light is abundant in all benevolent beings."
"And that is why it took Darren and Aaron." Ryan spoke in awe. Pyaren's eyes grew even narrower and darker than before. "Promise me this, Ryan." He said, turning toward Ilrom. "When the time comes, you will help me avenge my son."
"I swear it!"
-----
Over the next three and a half years, rumors spread throughout the land, most of which were false. In Anchorage, it was commonly told that Ryan threw his two friends into the fires out of some form of jealousy. In Oakton, they would say that Aaron and Darren ran away from their homes, but they didn't want their families to search after them, so they faked death. There were many other such stories spreading around, and few believed the one given by Ryan. Even his parents bought into the rumors, and were infuriated with him. They expressed their strongest resentment in a letter to Ryan, which he could not believe, even as he recognized the signature and the writing style, was written by his parents.
Ryan was older now, and he had quickly learned to work in the fields of Pyaren's farm. Pyaren treated him like a son, and let him stay with him in the main house, in the guestroom adjacent to Aaron's. The two had become very close, nearly as close as had been Pyaren and Aaron.
Life in these times was based on routines, and it was quiet and uneventful. The townsmen of Sarod, the villagers of Anchorage, and the merchants of Oakton went about their usual business. They worked, they played, they partied, and they gossiped. With no voice of dissent, Ryan gained the reputation of a fallacious, deceitful, liar. This was his label, but he was hardly seen, for he clung to the northern fields of the Bella Crescent. He only appeared in Oakton, and only to trade with the merchants, though, on occasion, he would stop at his old home in Anchorage along the way, and visit his parents.
The trips were long from the Bella Crescent, and he returned late at night, not arriving back at the farm until dawn. Some claimed to see him, on horse, galloping through the black night by the trails of the Isil Mountains and of the Oakwood Forest, with only the light of the guiding moon. A rumor was spread that Ryan was hiding his friends' scorched bodies under the soil of the forest, concealing his terrible deed.
Indeed, Ryan was shunned by the people, but the future had already been foretold, and fate was bound with irony.
----- End of Part 1 -----
"Are you sure you want to hear it?" Asked Ryan worriedly.
"I must."
Ryan nodded, and then began explaining the dark adventure from beginning to end. He went into great detail, and Pyaren listened carefully and attentively. As Ryan spoke, Pyaren's eyes grew serious, and then gave a look of un-withering rage. His vengeance and his malice were teeming out of his eyes. Ryan saw a side of Pyaren he hadn't before; a cold, merciless, dark shadow. "You are not the first to speak of such a creature." He said suddenly in a deep, powerful voice.
"What?" Ryan was alarmed, and his eyes opened wide.
Pyaren cleared his throat, and began to speak like a prophet of the ancient Isilian scrolls. "Over a thousand years ago, the last of the Wizards lived in Isilius. They were the wisest, and most highly regarded in all of the land, for they had in their possession a relic with an extraordinary power. It was a glass sphere that could read the future and project it as an image for all who looked upon it." Ryan stared at Pyaren in disbelief. "The sphere chose when and for how long it would read, and the Wizards referred to these readings as glimpses."
"That cannot be possible!" Ryan finally broke out.
"Why can it not?" Answered Pyaren calmly.
"Because," Ryan spoke in a troubled voice. "That kind of power is beyond this Earth!"
"You mean it is beyond men." Ryan looked at Pyaren, perplexed. "Ryan, the are many powerful forces in this world beyond human beings. Just as we cannot fly!"
"But that is different!"
"Only in your mind! We cannot move objects without touching them, though a Wizard can! Neither can we climb the wall of Sarod as an insect! Would you tell me now that something greater isn't possible?" When Ryan didn't respond, and only sat in thought, Pyaren continued. "The sphere projected images, glimpses, of future events, and on papyrus, the Wizards recorded all they saw as if it had already happened, and intended to bind these glimpses together as chronicles of the future. . .but as time passed, and the events recorded began to happen, they came to realize that the sphere did not read in the order of time.
"Finally, having given up searching for a theme in the given order of the glimpses, they bound all of the recordings into six scrolls- collectively called the Eretuf- which grew thicker as the sphere continued to read. The people of Isilius grew frightened as they knew- not when the events would occur- only that they would occur. And, on an evening like tonight, Isilius was attacked by the dragons of Mount Sirus."
'So there are dragons in Mount Sirus!' Ryan thought to himself. 'Or at least there were. We did not encounter any, could they still be there?'
"The attack had been spoken of in the Eretuf, but neither the men nor the Wizards were prepared, for there was no knowing when it would come. The fire-spitting drakes outnumbered and overpowered the Wizards, who were mostly sleeping at the time and hadn't the power to stop the attack."
"I don't understand why you're telling me this."
"All of the Wizards were slain," Pyaren continued as if he did not hear Ryan. "And the city was laid to waste, flattened and decimated by the fire and force of the dragons. And then the dragons found the sphere, which was hidden in a secret temple in the heart of the city, and brought it back with them to Mount Sirus. There, they destroyed it, for it was the largest concentration of natural light in all of the land." Ryan suddenly gave Pyaren a strange look of puzzlement. "The goodness of the heart and the soul," Pyaren explained, "the Wizards called 'natural light'. The dragons sought to rid the land of it, and usher an era of darkness."
It seemed to Ryan that Pyaren had told this story many times before, perhaps to a large audience of family and friends, for it came out a long, well-prepared speech.
"How do you know all this? And why are you telling me this?" He asked.
"The men who escaped found refuge in Anchorage, and there they put in writing the history of Isilius. The scrolls are still there today; I have seen them. But the scrolls of the Eretuf, they were left behind in a cavern in the Isil Mountains, and to the best of anyone's knowledge, they remain there to this day. Now, Ryan," Pyaren said softly. "It may interest you to know that the most famous glimpse in the scrolls speaks of a shadow, in Mount Sirus, that desires only the destruction of all natural light. Somehow, it would draw power from this." He paused for only a moment and let Ryan straighten his thoughts. Then, he whispered slowly and coldly. "This shadow is real, Ryan! You have described it to me, and it is the reason why all who gaze toward the dark mountain tremble for a brief moment. It is the presence."
"But what is it?" Ryan whispered.
"I do not know." Answered Pyaren weakly. "I know only that its sole motivation is the destruction of natural light."
"And there is an abundance of natural light in humans?" Ryan uttered slowly.
"Yes." Hissed Pyaren, as he realized that Ryan was beginning to understand. "Natural light is abundant in all benevolent beings."
"And that is why it took Darren and Aaron." Ryan spoke in awe. Pyaren's eyes grew even narrower and darker than before. "Promise me this, Ryan." He said, turning toward Ilrom. "When the time comes, you will help me avenge my son."
"I swear it!"
-----
Over the next three and a half years, rumors spread throughout the land, most of which were false. In Anchorage, it was commonly told that Ryan threw his two friends into the fires out of some form of jealousy. In Oakton, they would say that Aaron and Darren ran away from their homes, but they didn't want their families to search after them, so they faked death. There were many other such stories spreading around, and few believed the one given by Ryan. Even his parents bought into the rumors, and were infuriated with him. They expressed their strongest resentment in a letter to Ryan, which he could not believe, even as he recognized the signature and the writing style, was written by his parents.
Ryan was older now, and he had quickly learned to work in the fields of Pyaren's farm. Pyaren treated him like a son, and let him stay with him in the main house, in the guestroom adjacent to Aaron's. The two had become very close, nearly as close as had been Pyaren and Aaron.
Life in these times was based on routines, and it was quiet and uneventful. The townsmen of Sarod, the villagers of Anchorage, and the merchants of Oakton went about their usual business. They worked, they played, they partied, and they gossiped. With no voice of dissent, Ryan gained the reputation of a fallacious, deceitful, liar. This was his label, but he was hardly seen, for he clung to the northern fields of the Bella Crescent. He only appeared in Oakton, and only to trade with the merchants, though, on occasion, he would stop at his old home in Anchorage along the way, and visit his parents.
The trips were long from the Bella Crescent, and he returned late at night, not arriving back at the farm until dawn. Some claimed to see him, on horse, galloping through the black night by the trails of the Isil Mountains and of the Oakwood Forest, with only the light of the guiding moon. A rumor was spread that Ryan was hiding his friends' scorched bodies under the soil of the forest, concealing his terrible deed.
Indeed, Ryan was shunned by the people, but the future had already been foretold, and fate was bound with irony.
----- End of Part 1 -----
