Chapter 7 The Hermit's TaleA Chapter by Nataliya MaizeKeira is taken to the forest of Duskmere to met the halfing, Maedoc. The halfing is an old member of the elder council, who reveals to her the hidden truths of their world's mysterious past, a knowledge that has been corrupted over time, and in return unrMaedoc's cottage stood alone in the quiet solitude depths of the misty forest. Only a short distance before the group's final arrival to the welcoming comfort of the goblin's home.
The Maedoc’s home filled her with a sense of familiarity. Several dusty, leather-bound books and paper scrolls lay scattered about as they had in the library of the Durnshire Monastery. The radiating heat of the fireplace filled every cranny, its flames casting a glow of golden flickers that danced upon the tapestry filled walls, and support beams.
The cabin was constructed of simple log and brick. Her eyes tracing the wooden banister of a narrow stairwell saw as there stood an open loft used as a spare room. Downstairs, beneath the loft stood two more doorless rooms, lined with tightly packed bookshelves, and lit candles. To the right, the living quarters and cooking area where Thomas, Phillip, and Maedoc sat in quiet discussion. The three of them enjoying a meal of biscuits and gravy with a side of buttered green beans and freshly brewed tea.
“I see you have finally awakened...” rang an unfamiliar voice. Keira turned her gaze to find the small green goblin standing next to her. She observed his large dome shaped head, long, pointy ears and almond-shaped eyes; much larger than that of a human. His nails were long, and brittle, yet his overall appearance was friendly, welcoming, and wise.
“I poured you a fresh cup of tea. It should help calm your nerves after your little... episode. Please, join us... when you're ready.” He smiled, gesturing to the table with a wave of his hand.
“You're a goblin,” Keira stated. Her body weighed heavily against her as she shifted her weight within the chair.
“Aww...” the goblin smirked. “And I see you're very observant.”
“Maedoc and I have been friends for a long time now. Though many years have passed since our last encounter.” Thomas interrupted.
“Yes... it has been quite a long time indeed old friend.” The goblin smiled, pausing in thought before continuing to speak. “Maedoc Magnar... that was what they once called me. The last known survivor of the goblin-kin. A race that at one time was thought friend to the alliance, until turned foe... out of desperation, and fear. At one time we were thought to be an extinct race, and now... well, although there are few of us, we are known to today's society refers as nothing more than a mythical creature. Existing only within the turning pages of child's fairytale. Stories of kings and queens meant to fascinate the mind. These days, to some I am known as nothing more than “The Hermit”, but that is quite the contrary. A story meant for another time.”
“Now, Keira Blakely,” the goblin spoke, as he turned to face her. His hands still grasping the metal poker he held in his hands.
“I understand you may have some questions for me?” Keira adjusted herself in her seat, unsure of where to begin.
“Yes... I guess I can start by asking you what happened out there? And to me?”
“Aww... well,” replied the goblin, his body leaning against the post of the metal poker. “What you have witnessed is the unforgiving wraith of a corrupt, and mischievous creature. A fire sylph to be exact. The deadliest of their kind. Only few have escaped one unharmed and lived to talk of it. And only those with trained skills can easily defeat the deranged fury of a sylph.”
“And me? What happened to me out there?” asked Keira.
“You? Well... that my child is a completely different story indeed.”
“Let me ask you...” he replied as he poured a stream of hot steaming tea into his cup. “I assume Thomas has already told you of the story of “The Wielders” and how they came to be, but has he told you of their Queen?”
“We covered the topic briefly. It was a bit much to discuss in one night.” Keira responded.
“But would you like to know?” he asked. A grin strenching across his face as reflections of fire gleamed upon the lense of his glasses, dancing against the goblin's glowing, golden eyes.
“It was said... that Callynndria Callowmere was born of royal blood... in all aspects of the phrase. The first and only heir to her mother and father; rulers of Dor' rithia at the time. They say she was gifted with the power of the elements, whilst still in the womb. Said to be the purest of all, in the lands of our world. From an infant, they say Callynndria emitted a pale, white radiance that stayed with her until the last of her days. She was the first born wielder to possess the most powerful abilities known to our world.”
“Wait...” Keira interrupted. “You mean... when the life-force of Evo dripped upon the earth? Like in the story of The Wielders, Thomas was explaining to me. Callynndria’s mother... she was touched by it, wasn’t she?
“Yes.” Maedoc acknowledged.
“And the life-force... that's why Callynndria was considered the first born wielder. Her mother must have been pregnant. She was born from it.”
“Precisely. You really are observant aren’t you?” The goblin nodded in approval, he was impressed.
“But... white radiance? I don't understand.” She shook her head with a look of confusion.
“A wielder's power...” Thomas interrupted. “Is measured only by the strength of their radience. The brighter the radiance the stronger their power. That is why it is very improtant for wielder’s to learn to control their powers... a dead give away. Especially in battle.”
“But she didn't need to control her powers did she?” Keira replied softly, as she slowly began to understand.
“No.” Maedoc replied. “Not as an heir to the throne. Which... is what made her kingdom so powerful. Still, Callynndria never abused her gifts, and for that... she was adored by her people. But...” the goblin spoke, as he held out a single stub-like finger. “It wasn't until during this time, when complications would arise. Time would pass through whispers... that Azazel, one of the many fallen angels of Evo, second in command only to Lucifer, had escaped before the closure of The Great Gate, along with many others of his following.”
“Azazel. The angel that betrayed Lucifer.” Keira stated.
“Yes.” Maedoc replied. “The topic caused a massive disturbance amongst Dor'rithia's exiled leaders. And a meeting of nations was called to order. The last remaining council members of the alliance rallied, and all that was left of the original order. If Azazel was allowed to live, and opened the gate prematurely of its thousand year period, he could unleash his demonic legion upon our world. Tearing the very fabric that separates our realm from that of the spiritual. The people of our world would be lost forever... if not to death... than to a lifetime of slavery, and sadistic slaughter. Our only hope...” Maedoc paused with hesitation.
“What?” Keira interrupted.
“To find the lost heir of our once great leader, who would take the key and cast the Fallen back into the abyss for eternity. Proving once and for all the worthiness of man's existence.”
“But if Abaddon is an angel, and had already cast The Fallen into the abyss once before, why couldn't he just return to do it again?” Keira asked.
“Well...” Thomas interjected, as he sipped from his glass of tea. “Before the rebellion, Abaddon was a guardian of man. And as with all angels. Abaddon was charged with the soul responsibility of watching over a single mortal soul; his charge was Callynndria. For many years he looked over her, but as the years past, the angel found himself fallen in love with his charge, and her with him. But angels were forbidden to share themselves with the hearts of mortals. Though, after the rebellion of the Fallen, for his obedience to deny himself the taste of a mortal love, and obey the commands of his lord, Abaddon was granted with a gift. For casting his fallen brethren into the depths of the Gate’s Abyss; he was granted with a mortal life. It was not long after that Abaddon and Callynndria would wed, and she would find herself pregnant with child. Twins to be exact, one boy, one girl. Two heirs to take up the crown of the Callowmere bloodline, the very bloodline of the original spirit wielders. But as we all know... a mortal life does not last forever. Years were not kind to Abaddon, and when his last days finally came Callynndria knew that it was only a matter of time before she too would be hunted down like the other exiled leaders. Callynndria would be forced to flee, and go into hiding.”
“Then... what happened to the children?” Phillip asked, overwhelmed with curiosity, as he sank his teeth into the thickness of a dinner roll. Keira and the others had forgotten of his presence, that the young man was still sitting in the room with them. They had become so intrenched in the story, that they had completely forgot he was stranded, having lost his carriage in the debry of rubble left by the destructive sylph.
Keira watched as Maedoc scurried off into one of the doorless rooms, shuffling through some old scrolls. Carefully, he pushed aside the deep burgundy curtains that hung in the entrance way, blocking his reach from a stack of dusty old scrolls that sat clustered upon a bookshelves. Finally, the goblin found what he was looking for, and he quickly returned, laying the scroll flatly across the length of the table. Keira stood to move in closer to the others, resting her body upon a long wooden bench, her eyes gazing across at the ancient scroll.
Keira studied the drawing. There was a depiction of an angel holding in his hand a thick, long, metal key. Behind him stood a man with a staff, a monk, who wore a robe similar to that of Thomas and Maedoc.
“Callynndria knew she could not go into hiding with her children, or she would have condemned them to death...” spoke Thomas. “The two would remain split amongst separate houses. One... the boy, would remain hidden in the home of a humble halfling, trained in the ways of war. The other, given to one of the eldest members of the ancient council. A monk, who would give his life to helping the child discover her destiny. Looking over her throughout the remainder of her years.” Thomas spoke with conviction in his eyes.
“Wait a second... what are you trying to say to me Thomas?” Keira interrupted, as she stood from the table, her eyebrows clinched together in a look of betrayal. The monk gazed upon her intently. A concerned expression spread across his face.
“Wait a second...” Phillip interjected, without realizing what he was interupting. “The man in this picture... that staff... this is you! The monk in this picture Thomas... this is you!”
“That it is.” Thomas admitted plainly, his eyes still gazing into Keira's intently.
“What? How though? It makes no sense! The stories of this legend happened years ago... decades even!” Phillip went on.
“This can't be happening... this can -not -be -real! I mean...” Keira shoke her head. “I knew there was some strange connection... but this? No! This can't be real!” Keira's head numbed with confusion, as she walked backwards towards the chair behind her. Her body falling limply against the cushion of the seat, as she planted her head into her hands, covering her ears with her palms, and weaving her fingers through several locks of hair. She couldn't understand, she couldn't comprehend. What world had she been living in all this time? How could such a thing be possible? So many lies, all these years. She thought to herself, and with that, the world she knew had crumbled before her into a thousand little pieces.
“Keira...” said Thomas, as she raised her eyes towards him, her hands still positioned at the sides of her head. “The woman in your dreams... the woman you've been dreaming of all these years... Clara...” He said in a questionable tone. “There was once a time when she was known as Callynndria... your mother.”
“No, no, no... this isn't happening! This isn't real.” she cried out. All along she had known there must be a connection, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought such things possible. “This just can't be happening!” She repeated aloud, shaking her head towards the floor. “All these years… everything I've known… is a lie?” She spoke, her voice shaking, her lip quivering as she spoke the last word.
“No... not a lie. Keira... these things were done to protect you.” replied Thomas. “All these things happened for a reason.”
“Protect me?! From what?! Azazel?! And what could I possibly do to protect myself... to protect anyone! I know nothing of this world! And my family?" My family, she thought feeling the anger swell up in her chest as she stood to her feet raising her arms wildly as she spoke. “Tell me... have I abandoned them too? Left them to die amongst the rest of the people of this world?!” Tears swelled in her eyes as she forced herself to push them away, there was too much anger, too much confusion, she felt helpless.
“Keira! You... are... a... Nephilim! Born of the same wielding powers as your mother! Daughter to the angel Abaddon! You carry a strength and power unknown of, unheard of, and untrained! You only lack the direction to us it. It is too early to become doubtful of yourself with needless worry!” Thomas interrupted. His stern voice carried loudly across the room.
Keira's heart sank deep into her chest. The anger growing inside her, as her chest heaved in and out with each drawn breath she took; questions flooding her mind. Had she offered her family up as bait to the unforgiving mercy of a demon lord? Had her family known all along the true consequences for accepting her into their home as one of their own? The thought of this possibility sickened her stomach, her insides twisting and churning. She was speechless as her mind continued to fill with one thought after another, her tongue unable to move, unable to mouth the words that she truly yearned to speak.
“This key you speak of... if Abaddon supposedly locked away The Fallen, what happened to the key?” asked Phillip, hoping to change the subject, and perhaps give Keira the time she need to calm down.
“Abaddon was able to transmute the key back into its original form. The five sources of natural elemental power; Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Each source entrusted to a different member of the council, and returned to where it came, hidden away, until the day when an heir of the Callowmere bloodline would return to claim them once more.”
“And what of my brother?” interrupted Keira. “What happened to him?”
“Keira... I'd like you to meet Rozlend... your brother.” © Copyright 2008 Nataliya Maize. All rights reserved.
© 2009 Nataliya MaizeAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on March 28, 2009 Last Updated on October 23, 2009 Previous Versions AuthorNataliya MaizeMoreno Valley, CAAbout- When we were young, and life was different - Check out my websites: My Twitter: http://twitter.com/NMaize A.N.A. Twitter: http://twitter.com/anaw.. more..Writing
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