AN:Thanks to my reviewers, SarahE7191, Dragonfly257, Shang Leopard, Alliekat1996, and Cymru na Alethaira, and my beta, KyrieofAccender. I've been slow with updates, but hopefully I'll pick up again soon! MIDTERMS ARE OVER! HUZZA! :D
Please keep in mind that this legend is a legend in a legend-format... meaning stuff is myth-y and confusing and vague and weird... but hopefully I didn't obscure my point in my labors to sound all ancient and mysterious... :P Please tell me if you spot any problems with it.
Chapter Four
The Beginning
"In the Beginning, there was nothing; a Chaos descended from the corruption of light, from the illumination of the dark, in which there were no rules and indeed no lines to cross. From within this Chaos emerged the Father and Mother of All, who created the Divine Realms, a world separate from Chaos. Within their new world, they made the Unnamed and their siblings, the Gods. The Children were divine and beautiful, but they clashed, for although the Father and Mother had given great gifts to the Gods, but they gave a Power to the Unnamed that would determine the fate of the world, a Power that inspired envy and distrust between the two groups.
To avoid the jealousy of their brothers and sisters, the Unnamed weaved their own world, between Chaos and Divine, their own escape into which the Gods could not follow. But the Father and Mother of All disapproved of the exclusion of the Gods, and so allowed Them their own way of interfering in the Mortal Realm; they created the mortal beings that walked this land with the Unnamed, through which the Gods could intervene in the Mortal Realm. There were humans and animals, both of which enchanted the Unnamed with their brilliant but finite lives.
There were children, between the Unnamed and humans, called the Seraph, and between Them and animals, called Elementals, both of whom were immortal but could die by sword or sickness. Inspired by these children, the Gods created their own races of immortals, who lived in the Divine realms, but they were made with Golden Fire, not the Fire of Mortals, made all the more precious by its impermanence, and preserved by divine blood. The Gods grew envious with the Unnamed as They built their great cities in forests, caverns, deserts, and mountains, and were worshipped and loved by all mortals of the earth.
Seeing the discordance, the Mother and Father offered a balance of Power to their Children; four of the lesser Gods were given the key to the Unnamed's Power, but were forbidden to use it themselves. At the time in which the Realms neared a Return to Chaos, the Four Gods were to bestow the Power upon Man to preserve Order. At the same time, they named Uuasoae, youngest and most beloved of Gods, Queen of Chaos, for all Realms must have a protector. It was given to her as an honor, but she corrupted it and herself with it as she assumed her instrumental role in the Betrayal and Fall of the Unnamed.
The Gods grew more and more resentful of the Power given to their Siblings as the Unnamed devoted themselves to beauty and knowledge and unlocked the deepest secrets of the world, among them the Language of the Worlds and the Balance, allowing the Old Ones to employ their magics to protect mortals against the Gods' interference, to shield them from the divine wars and wagers for Power. They eased themselves between the mortal and divine realms and refused to step aside and let their siblings use humans as mere playthings.
The Gods could not fathom this guardianship, nor the bond the Old Ones had formed with the small beings that delighted Them so. The Gods saw the meddling as a threat; they began to believe this Power would be used against Them.
At this time, there was a divide among the Unnamed; the Ysandir, beautiful and proud, were angered by the mortal, humble life that the Old Unnamed led. They saw no need for the earth; there was nothing in humans that held their interest, nothing amusing or worthwhile. They wanted the skies.
It was then that Uuasoae saw a chance to help her fellow Gods, her brothers and sisters; she came to the Ysandir, asking for their Power, promising a place in the Divine Realms for Ylon and Ylanda, the leaders of the Clan of Ysandir. When they agreed, the Gods struck with the demonic traitors at their side, and the cities burned; the Old Ones fell as they were hunted out, one by one, their Children disappearing into the deeper, darker parts of the world, hidden away for their own sakes.
But before the Unnamed- the Old Ones- could all be locked away in the insanity of Chaos, Mother and Father ended the horror, barring Uuasoae from both Mortal and Divine Realms, banishing Her to the depths of the Chaos that would destroy Her. They did not free the Old Ones; they allowed the Gods to take the roles of their Siblings, to become the guardians of Mankind, even if their interference was for their own gain, not out of love for their worshippers.
But they promised the Betrayal was not the end of the Old Ones; they would Return, in the darkest of times, to the world they were forced to abandon so many eons ago."
Silence rang throughout the room, burning in Deryne's mind like a bed of embers, sizzling with vitality, preying upon her senses with an intimation of a stirring flame. She snuck a look at Numair, who had his hands folded atop his desk as he eyed each of the youths before him, gauging their reactions and the time the legend would take to sink in before he could continue.
Han's eyes were closed, his face as placid as that of a sleeping child. Rikash glowered into space, as if he could scare his thoughts into place. Surely, if Deryne opened her mind to the gudruna lying in the air around them, she would pick up their stray, unguarded thoughts-
Deryne thrust the temptation out of her mind before she could even fully consider it; if his mind was open, it was not her fault that she heard to what he let out of his mind, and Rikash would never know she had listened to anything, but it was a vulnerable moment for them all. Even if she didn't know how Rikash felt about her "mind-reading," she would not- could not take advantage of it.
"So what was this Power? The one given to the Unnamed? The Old Ones?" Cyne leaned forwards as she asked, elbows resting on her knees, her eyes glittering.
Deryne raised an eyebrow as Numair sat back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the foreign royal. The squire would not have been able to guess that Cyne would be the first to break the silence; she had been betting on a cutting remark or cynicism from Rikash's corner first.
"It's just a legend," Sir Myles remarked, a little smile deepening his wrinkles. Cyne's gaze fell upon the old man.
"Then why would you tell us?" she asked dubiously.
"Because it is what the Guild believes," Numair said. "And whether or not it is true, it doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters," Rikash snapped, amber eyes flashing as they shot to his father. "Four lesser gods? Such as Frejonak-" His finger snapped out towards Deryne. "-who decided that a squire stranded in the middle of a desert, being chased down by Shadows, was important enough to him for him to risk flaunting an ancient ban on divine interference in the Black City and give her access to a dead, unnamed language to Seal that Vent to Chaos?" His fists were clenched, his face furious. "Such as the Wavewalker, who seems to have given a mortal the strength to tear oceans apart and fight a goddess?" His finger slid to Cyne. "Such as Yama? Fire-lady, they call her." His eyes blazed like liquid flame. "They are the gods of the elements, along with Gaian, earth-healer and plant-speaker!" He nearly hit Han as he gestured towards the last of the three. "Who better to grant this Power you natter on about?" His hand waved in Sir Myles's direction.
"Rikash," Numair began sternly, but his son stood, shaking his head.
"Haven't you been paying attention?" he hissed through his teeth. "Four! That damned number is everywhere!" He pointed at his three companions. "Even here- especially here! Unnatural magic- fire, water, wind, and earth! Four!"
"Your father can count," Deryne muttered. She met her friend's glare unflinchingly, daring him to retort.
"We could argue this for years," Myles told the whole room. "Theoretically, as an answer to your question, Your Highness, we can say that this Power would be a might beyond the gods." He cleared his throat. "You gave Deryne permission to reveal the details of your own adventures at her discrepancy; you have already demonstrated a Power beyond the gods. Beyond a goddess, at least. And you preserved order in the Isles by sending Kypria to Chaos." His lips twitched. "Very similar to what she and the other gods did to the Old Ones. If we assumed these hazy legends and prophecies are true."
"Which we aren't?" Han's lips curved into a small, knowing smile; Deryne made a mental note to speak with him later- he could have been her brother, he was so like her. But at the same time, he caught so much that escaped her notice; from the thoughtful look in his eyes, she suspected that this had happened once again. "Because what could be true and so unheard of?" he mused. Deryne's eyes narrowed at the young man's cryptic question, twinged with irony; it sounded more like he was more inclined to believe this secret was true, and not a small-minded conspiracy.
"True or false, you can see why so few copies of their story have survived the millennia," Myles said gruffly. "It's blasphemous. The Gods themselves would hunt down this to burn it." Deryne raised an eyebrow; now she thought she saw what Han was getting at.
"Instead of discrediting it? Instead of denying it as a lie?" She pursed her lips. "Maybe that story has a grain of truth in it, then?" Her jaw set. "I met Ylon and Ylanda, in the Black City," she reminded them. Their words ran through her mind, making more sense as they played over in her head.
"That's right," Numair said thoughtfully. "What did they say?" A phrase bubbled to her lips, Ylanda's mocking laughter echoing in her head.
"I would like to see this child, who plays with powers that make the gods shiver," she whispered, the words sending chills through her spine. Then she closed her eyes. "And they told me about Kyprioth, in the Isles- how he was clever enough to win the allegiance of Cyne's protector."
"The Wavewalker," Rikash said simply, disgust and anger in his eyes. Deryne ignored him; her memory wasn't finished with her yet….
"A gate and a little knowing- a twirl here, sacrifice there. We know mages who have been resurrected with less." Both Ysandir cackled. "Poor little girl- such deception! There is a tightly woven web around you, isn't there?"
Deryne clutched the arm of her chair, stiffening as their meaning finally hit her full force; she hadn't thought about her encounter with the demons in over a year- They had known! And Ylanda, that beautiful, cruel immortal-
The Shadows have acted oddly…. Violent one moment… peaceful the next. Sometimes, they let the arrogant fools through…but sometimes, they are so vicious, they must be receiving direct orders from the cruelest of men…. It's as though their loyalty is split between two people… or their master is a very troubled individual. He might not even know he controls them. How amusing would that be?"
"Gods help me," she whispered, face whitening. As the others' faces darkened with concern, a scream escaped her. "They told me!" Rage raced through her veins as she stood, shaking even harder than Rikash had. "Are you happy?" she snapped, glaring up at the ceiling. "You're probably laughing now, in whatever damned nightmare you belong in!" Tears of fury filled her vision.
"Deryne-" She turned on Numair, who had circumvented his desk to her side.
"They knew that Roger had been resurrected!" she spat. "And they knew how!"
"They couldn't have," Numair replied, but he sounded too confused to be certain. Deryne threw her chair out of her way as she turned her back on them, her hands buried in her hair.
If they could have just told her… If those demons hadn't loved to play their damned games with words….
Maybe Hadrian Malvyn would have been caught. Maybe Roger of Conte would have been sent back to Chaos, where he belonged.
"Maybe Inar would be alive," she hissed, her breath constricting as his name left her lips. They knew that Malvyn had summoned Roger, that Roger had possessed Inar…. Maybe they had realized that Inar was unwittingly, unwillingly, the Shadowmaster.
But that was before the events of last year. Before Inar had fought Roger, before he had won and Roger's soul took refuge in Malvyn. Before Roger had sent Chaos magic after Deryne, to kill her. Before Inar had stepped between her and the deadly spell.
"Inar?" she heard Cyne ask softly, and swore to herself. She had written a lot about him in her letters to the Kyprian… but just stopped after he had died. She could not bear to explain it in a letter, in words penned on a piece of parchment. She was not certain if she could bear to explain it in words now. "I-" Deryne thanked the gods when her friend fell silent.
"I'm going to kill him," she vowed for the thousandth time. "I'm going to find that mongrel, and send him to the bowels of Chaos where his sick mind can dwell for the rest of eternity-"
"If I don't get to him first," Rikash hissed; the girl looked up and locked stares with him, intensity growing between them as the moments ran on, Deryne's blue-gray eyes swelling with tears. A breeze spun through the room; the air around Rikash began to shimmer, like a heat mirage in the desert. With a look at his friend, Han stood up and walked away from the fire mage, grabbing Cyne by the arm and taking her with him across the room.
"Air combustion," he muttered in her ear. "Trust me- don't get in the way." His whisper was the only sound in the room as Numair walked over to the squire and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Maybe it would have been different," he allowed. "But maybe they were bound, like Irnai- like Frejonak, and all the other gods that you four have seen."
"They laughed," she retorted hoarsely. "Laughed, and laughed… and laughed." Her lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Laughed themselves sick. I probably would've, too, if they had let me in on the joke." She cleared her throat and broke eye contact with Rikash. After a moment, the air around the adept settled, and Han strolled back to his seat, studying his hands.
"When do the negotiations begin, Your Highness?" Myles asked; Deryne blinked. It was like the old scholar, diffusing tension with a change of topic. It didn't change the fact that she had explaining to do later… and she dreaded it. Cyne hesitated.
"Early tomorrow, but I do not know how much I will be participating; I'm more like a front for others to hide behind," she added dryly. Deryne's churning stomach calmed at the wry remark.
"I doubt that," the old man replied kindly. "Your aunt trusts you with the affairs of her kingdom; after all, she has willed it to be yours, one day."
"What, precisely, have we been called to discuss?" Cyne queried. "The invitation was rather vague." When Deryne looked, Myles was smiling.
"I expect that Their Majesties issued it that way on purpose," he answered.
"No doubt they have," Cyne replied, a smile in her voice. "But now that we have been lured, we should have a taste of the bait."
"If the business concerns Scanra, there will be no need for urgency until the snow from the northern passes clears; even a messenger couldn't get through now. I suspect all your questions will be answered in the morning." Myles raised his eyebrows at the girl. "The Yamani delegation was forced to await your arrival, you know; not a word was whispered to them nor will be until tomorrow."
"Officially," Cyne agreed, amusement creeping into her voice. "But who knows what is spoken behind closed doors- in the servants' quarters and among friends?"
"Clever girl," Myles approved, a chuckle escaping him. "I suppose Aly's always been a close teacher?" Cyne raised a eyebrow with a frown.
"Aly? Do you mean Lady Alianne, my aunt's advisor?" She shrugged, eyes gleaming. "I know her, but I would not claim intimacy." The old scholar burst into hearty laughter.
"I'm certain you don't," he chuckled. "Just as she's always told you not to." He shook his head with a sigh. "I miss that lass. Give her my best."
A sharp knock turned the heads of all six; Numair sighed as he removed his Seal on the room and answered the door.
A wide-eyed, gasping adept stood in the door, peering in as he fought to catch his breath. His gaze ranged from Deryne, who rubbed furiously at her eyes before stepping closer to see the messenger better, to the three youths rising from their seats, to Myles, who waited in his chair patiently.
"Master Numair- he sent me down to find you, now," the student said, hand against the doorway. "They need you, now- urgent meeting-"
"Who?" the black robe mage prompted.
"His Majesty," the youth answered. "There's a meeting for the delegates, now-" He swallowed heavily. "There's a man here. A messenger. From Scanra."
"I don't see why we're here," Rikash muttered, crossing his arms as he glowered across the room at the foreigner who had caused the whole stir; Igor Reuthsak of Scanra was speaking with an official from the Yamani Islands, a smug smile across his face as the Islander fidgeted. "Sure, his appearance at the gates, demanding an audience, was a bit unexpected-"
"Try impossible," Deryne interrupted grimly. "Nothing less than some twisted turn of fate would have gotten him through the mountain passes."
"Unless he's been here for awhile, biding his time," Han added quietly.
"And I'm not sure which would be scarier," Cyne finished; despite the flurry of activity, she had managed to sit herself down with her three companions. The gathering was huge; all from both delegations sat or stood in the chamber, while at least another delegation and a half from Tortall lurked, waiting for Reuthsak to address the king. "Didn't he say his message was urgent?"
"That would be why we're here now, instead of meeting in the morning." Rikash rolled his eyes. "And we weren't even supposed to be at the negotiations-"
"I guess your father decided it was time we saw what decisions go on while we're blowing immortals to bits," Deryne murmured; Reuthsak seemed too well dressed- too clean shaven- to be delivering a message directly from Scanra. "He's been waiting in the city," she decided. "And was ordered by a speaking-spell to come today."
"Why all the dramatics?" Riaksh grumbled. "Enough of a fuss that my father brought us along…." Deryne pursed her lips, then shrugged.
"I suppose they like a big entrance. All that attention."
"I know I wouldn't," Han mumbled, shaking his head. "But he's got something in his hands-"
"It's a version of a speaking-spell," Cyne answered immediately; Deryne shifted so that she could make out the small blue crystal in Reuthsak's hands. "Sort of. It's called a projection stone. They use them all the time to deliver messages in the Isles; a ruler uses a projection spell to convey their image and words into a crystal. Then a messenger can take it to another and activate the spell; an illusion of the ruler will speak their piece when the messenger chooses to deliver it. It can neither be forced from the stone or be altered, once the spell has been set."
"Why use it?" Han asked. Cyne shrugged.
"Most of the time it's to show off," she told him. "Sometimes seeing a ruler give their message in person makes it more impressive, or delivers more of a shock."
"Shock, eh?" Han eyed Reuthsak with a frown.
"He's here to show off," he said firmly. "You can tell from that look he's got; that cat's stolen some cream, and he's ready to rub it in our faces." Deryne had to smile at the metaphor; Han was right. More than right.
"Ah… but what sort of cream are we talking about?" she asked, trying to picture Reuthsak's narrow face with whiskers.
"We're about to find out," Cyne muttered as the heralds announced Their Majesties of Tortall; the king and queen swept in, surveying the bowing crowd before turning their attention to Reuthsak.
"I hope not to keep you all long," the Scanran called out; his voice attacked the syllables of Common harshly, causing a hoarse hacking in the back of his throat. His smirk was clear even from where Deryne sat, in the back of the chamber. "Your mages have already inspected the stone; my king and I only wish to impart a message to you and your conference." Deryne's eyes fell on Numair; her teacher was scrutinizing their visitor, his face grim. "In fact, this comes from the closest advisor of my king- he has aided our country through a hard winter, and now, we hope, that he will be able to…." He paused, grinning as he scanned the crowd. "Heal old scars." A chill went down Deryne's spine as his gaze stopped on her and her companions; she shot another look at Numair, who was frowning now. "He wishes to unite our nation, and bring about a peace that Scanra and its neighbors have never fully enjoyed for our youth."
"I hate him already," Rikash muttered.
"You hate everybody," Han pointed out practically; Deryne would have smiled if she had not been watching Reuthsak so keenly. His cold stare fell to the stone in his hands, and he raised it to eye-level.
The air before him shivered; a translucent figure formed in the center of the chamber, tall and broad-shouldered, with brown hair and a ring on his hand. But his face….
"Aren't Scanrans' blond?" Cyne muttered, but Deryne could not answer. For the second time in two hours' time, all the blood seemed to be drained from her, leaving her lifelessly staring into the horror that stared her back in the face no matter how hard she scorned it.
She did not have to tear her eyes from that face to know the ring on his hand: a black opal, with the insignia of the Guild in gold-
"To Tortall, the Copper Isles, and the Yamani Islands," Hadrian Malvyn drawled, turning in their direction as he gave an elaborate, ironic bow. What was left of Deryne's blood turned to ice as he rose with a small smirk in her direction before turning back to the king and queen. "Your servant, Sar Heolstor, Chancellor of the Royal Affairs of Scanra and advisor to His Majesty, Warlord of all of Scanra, King Hauk Ingmar, at your service. I greet you with all the honor and respect your position demands, and make a proposal too enticing to reject."
Then the smirking illusion burst into flames.
AN: Guesses? I'm going to write now... I'll have another chapter up as soon as I get, say, seven reviews...? ;D