Chapter 7

Chapter

Seven

TAMAS

There were four, two men and two women, richly adorned in warm colored clothes of luxurious fabrics of silk and velvet, intricately embellished, elegantly designed and tailored to perfection.

The men's long cloaks were trimmed with ermine, their belts studded with gemstones, and their fingers covered with thick gold bans. The women sumptuously attired with brocade bodices threaded with gold and the hems of their skirts covered in elaborate embroidery, intricate lacework, and embellishments. Their hair, woven into braids, were pinned using jeweled clips and ribbons of silk.

I rose, thinking I was on my bed only to find I was lying on a stone floor underneath the starry sky, which couldn't be right. Osmud and Garrat had thrown me into my bed after the fateful clans' meeting, and I continued to sleep fitfully. Not even enough ale to drown a bullock would rid my mind of the dozen or more problems I faced. I shook the heavy feeling from my mind, then rubbed my eyes, feeling like I'd run all night with nothing to eat or drink.

‘Welcome, young Razohan,' said one man. His thick gray beard and mustache concealed the movement of his lips. ‘I am Carthius.' He extended his hand.

I simply stared, my brain refusing to wake up.

‘Time, Carthius. He is understandably confused.' The woman's face was narrow, her nose long, but her deep green eyes were striking.

‘Wisdom is yours, Fivia. Impatience is mine. Forgive me, young soul.' Carthius withdrew his hand and backed away, allowing Fivia and the other woman to come forth.

The second woman smiled down at me, her small, wide-set eye seeming to grow wider with excitement the longer she stared at me. ‘My name is Ovia.'

‘O-k-a-y,' I replied, drawing the word out as I tried to clear my head. I glanced around me, noticing the large flaming torches set to the wall by great iron brackets, casting a flickering yellow glow around the room.

I swiveled on my ass to see behind me the great expanse of the room, then curled my fingers in, drawing my nails along the stone floor. The white flecks in the floor mimicked the starry sky above, but it was not the sky I was looking at. With the realization, I lurched to my feet, then staggered sideways, clutching my head, feeling like hammers pounded my skull from all sides.

‘We were too eager,' came the other male voice.

Looking out from under my palms, I watched as the last man came toward me. Tall and willowy in his long robe of rich purple. I could see patches of scalp through his thinned hair.

‘Humble apologies.' And he bowed before me. ‘My name is Ineth.' One eye focused on me, the second appeared to be looking to the side of the room.

I ignored the four people and turned slowly in a circle. ‘If this was at all possible, I would say I'm standing in Emberforge. In the room of the Bone Throne. Only I don't see the throne anywhere.'

‘Yes, my friend. And no,' said Ineth.

‘That makes no sense.' I pinched my brow in a lame attempt to rid the pounding in my head while I tried to tease apart what he said.

‘We stand within Emberforge, but what you see is not where you are? It is an image found inside your mind. The details are poorly sketched, I am afraid.'

I buried my head in my hands, pressing my fingers into my temple. ‘Romelda,' I growled. ‘What're you doing to me?'

‘There is much anger in you for this woman,' Fivia said.

‘I get it. This is a dream, right? Either that or I'm going mad.'

‘Not mad like your father,' Ovia said.

I jerked at the mention of my father. ‘What's going on here?' I backed away from the two women who'd moved suffocatingly close.

‘Perhaps we should be clear,' Carthius said, moving in front of the two women. ‘We found a memory comfortable for all of us. '

‘Wait.' I jab a hand to my hips, pointing a finger at Carthius. ‘Is this real?'

‘Very,' replied Fivia and Ovia in unison.

‘Who are you?'

‘It is my turn,' Ineth said, moving Carthius out of the way. ‘We are the Eone.'

‘Am I supposed to know that name?'

Fivia gasped, placing her hand on her heart. ‘Forgotten. After all we did.'

Ovia fingered one of Fivia's braids. ‘Not by all, and not for long.'

Fivia rested her head on Ovia's shoulder. ‘We must speak plainly. I am feeling weak.'

‘Yes,' Ineth announced. ‘We are not yet strong.'

My throat felt grazed with sand. My pounding head was making it hard for me to concentrate. If this was a dream, it was the most real dream I'd ever had. I dragged one of my extended nails down my palm and stared at the split skin; the blood beading out, and felt the sting.

‘Dream, huh?' But why was I dreaming about strange people I'd never seen or heard of before? ‘This is my repayment for the things I said to Kaldor.' I turned slowly in a circle as I eyed the room.

It seemed I was destined to continue my mistakes, this time plunging the Razohan into a possible war with the northern clans. If Kaldor could gather enough support, he would choose to take my threat as an incitement to war. And judging by how quick he emptied the hall, I'd say gathering clans to his side would not be difficult. Fear could be manipulated or redirected as easily as loyalty. And Kaldor had evoked fear for the Razohan.

‘We are the Eone,' Ineth reiterated, interrupting my thoughts.

‘Tell me what that means, before I throw up at your feet.'

Carthius came alongside Ineth. ‘We are the makers of the Etherweave.'

‘That's impossible.' They would have all my attention if the pounding in my head had not intensified.

Fivia joined the two men. ‘We were once the greatest power, ruling over all the land and seas. Unfortunately, great power does not grant immortality, no matter how hard we tried.'

‘We struggled to beat our end,' Ovia continued.

‘So you forged the Etherweave,' I finished for them.

‘And failed,' Ineth said.

I shook my head. ‘The Etherweave is the greatest power to have ever existed.' As far as I knew, but all I had to go on were ancient tales, given the Etherweave's entombment for a millennium.

‘We still died,' Carthius said, his expression as sombre as his voice.

‘But there is hope,' Fivia interjected. ‘An ember of our combined life-force lives on in the Etherweave. We ensured it would be the case. Weak as it is, it is enough to give us the power to enter your dreams when your mind is not full of other thoughts.'

‘What? Twenty-seven years and you turn up now.'

‘Young Razohan, you have touched the Etherweave. It has entered you, become you for a brief time.' Carthius said .

‘And that's given you a way in?'

‘To your mind, yes,' Fivia said.

‘You have no right to invade my mind, and I'm pretty sure I won't like it.'

‘Trust, my friend,' Carthius said. ‘Soon, the Etherweave's tomb will no longer hold it. But the power of the Etherweave is great.'

‘It needs a great mind to wield it,' Ineth added. ‘The four of us barely managed. Yet there is only one of you.'

My first instinct was to protect any memories of Tressya from their prying.

Given the Etherweave was forged so long ago, there were no lingering tales. We called the people responsible the ancients because we had no better name for them and had always supposed they were allies.

But were they? Memories, thoughts, emotions were private affairs. Anyone who violated the inner privacy of another like this was a foe in my eyes. Bonded to Tressya through my mark, I could destroy Tressya's emotional privacy, but I never would cross that boundary without consent. The Eone had done worse. They'd entered my memories without welcome, rummaging through them to find a place they felt comfortable within.

‘What about those that came before? King Ricaud for one. Were you also interfering with his dreams?'

‘Interfering is an adversarial word, young Razohan.' Carthius's cautionary tone flared hackles along my back, invisible in my human form, but felt nonetheless when my emotions were strung. It seemed, as always, my instincts didn't deceive me. ‘I take that as a yes. '

‘Without us King Ricaud—' Fivia said.

‘Any of those who came before,' Ovia interrupted her.

‘Thank you, sister. Any who wielded the Etherweave's power without our help would not survive.'

Carthius moved alongside the two women. ‘It was forged by four, to be wielded by four. You do not stand a chance on your own. The Etherweave will burn through you, consume you if you do not let us help.'

I retreated a step, partially turning away as I pondered their words and reflected on the moment in the cave. There, I had miraculously liberated a fragment of the Etherweave from its entrapment, using it to save Tressya. This feat had nearly cost me my life, as I had wielded it without the aid of the Bone Throne to harness and amplify its power. Instead, the Etherweave had come perilously close to depleting my life's energy. At least, that was my understanding of the harrowing experience.

‘Wasn't the Bone Throne created for that very purpose?'

‘The Bone Throne was not our doing,' Ovia said.

Carthius gently placed his hand on Ovia's arm, subtly raising his eyebrows as she turned to look at him. The silent exchange between them was inscrutable to me. Whatever understanding they reached, Ovia dipped her head in agreement with Carthius. She then directed her serene gaze back toward me, offering nothing but a simple, enigmatic smile.

‘Who created the Bone Throne, if not you?'

‘One who became corrupted by the Etherweave's power,' Carthius said. ‘For some, no amount of power is ever sufficient. The one who carved the Bone Throne was a king whose ambition exceeded even what the Etherweave could offer. He grew restless with our warnings and the threats of withdrawing our assistance if he failed to curb his insatiable desire for something greater.

‘Using the Etherweave's power, he carved himself a throne to amplify his already formidable abilities. The Bone Throne achieved what he desired, intensifying the power of the Etherweave, but in doing so, it made the power uncontrollable and volatile. Sadly, without our help, he greed consumed him.'

This was not what our legends told us. ‘You're saying the Bone Throne makes the Etherweave dangerous?'

‘Yes, without our assistance. The successors of the Bone Throne learned from King Agropea's errors. They embraced our wisdom and guidance.'

‘And how did you deliver your wisdom and guidance?'

The four glanced at each other, each sharing a thought neither seemed willing to speak. I assumed the truth was not something they felt I should hear.

Possession was merely a superstition, a perspective that placed me in the minority. For the northern clans, however, superstitions were the bedrock of their existence. Their laws, religious beliefs, and daily life practices were all deeply entrenched in fanciful tales.

Finally, Fivia spoke. ‘Through cooperation and trust, young soul.'

I eyed each of them thoughtfully as I mulled over their words. I'd never heard of this king before; our legends only extended as far back as King Ricaud, the last monarch known to wield the Etherweave. We knew nothing beyond his time.

If King Ricaud had been guided, influenced, or even possessed by the Eone, then they must allies, their motives righteous, for our legends spoke of his courage, bravery, and benevolence, suggesting any force aligned with him would have virtuous intentions. The blooded Nazeen, whose linked memories transcended time, would not have dedicated their life and loyalty to a throne corrupted by power.

‘What do you want from me?'

‘Countless lifetimes have elapsed since the Etherweave fell into slumber, and there are no longer any who recall the lessons of King Agropea. These realms are as much our home as yours, and though we may no longer walk with the living, the reawakening of the Etherweave summons us as much as it does you. We hope to prevent the same devastation wrought by King Agropea's greed from befalling these realms once again.' Ineth said.

Thoughts of Tressya fought to surface, but I forced them away, filling my mind with Kaldor and the clan problems I faced.

I didn't believe unequivocally, and although much of what they said seemed plausible, I couldn't ignore my instincts. The tightness in my gut urged me to proceed with caution.

Ovia came toward me. ‘For now, young Razohan, we only ask for you to consider what we've said.'

‘And do you plan on invading my dreams often? I warn you, I won't be happy if the answer's yes.'

‘Your privacy is of the greatest concern to us. However, we strive to be honest with you in all endeavors,' Ineth said. ‘For your own good?—'

‘For the sake of your life. '

‘Thank you, Fivia,' Ineth replied. ‘To prevent you from succumbing to the same folly as King Agropea, we urge you to open yourself to us and welcome our guidance. It is the only path to your survival.'

Each stared at me with candor, their expressions imploring me to believe in their sincerity. Unfortunately for them, it wasn't my way, and with this niggle, irritating my instincts, I wasn't about to make promises. Rather, I took what they said as a warning for what lay ahead.

Power could become an addictive curse, tainting the souls of the honest as easily as the wicked.

Again, thoughts of Tressya flittered around in my head. I couldn't let the Eone know about her being a bloodborn. Given she'd also carried a fragment of Etherweave within her for a short time, did that make her mind susceptible to their invasion? At the moment, they seemed ignorant of her, and I needed to keep it that way.

Before committing to any promises with the Eone, I needed a deeper understanding of the four and King Agropea. Was he even real, or a fabricated tale used as leverage to secure my cooperation? I was sure within the sanctum of solmira, I would find the knowledge I needed. And this meant returning to Emberforge in the disguise of one of the key masters: Tortilus, Plesy or Selisimus. Tortilus, as lore keeper, was my first choice, but I'd take the souls of the three to gain what I needed.

‘You've said your piece. And now I demand you let me rest my pounding head.'

‘Of course, young Razohan,' Carthius said.

‘I want a warning next time you plan on dropping by.' I pressed a finger to my temple. ‘Or I swear I'll find a way to shut you out. I'm sure the Nazeen should be able to help me with that.'

The four exchanged another look. This time, I scrutinized their faces, hoping to detect any subtle sign my threat had garnered their attention. However, they were adept at communicating with few facial expressions, revealing little.

I felt the slightest tickle in my head, like small spider feet creeping across my mind, as Ovia turned her narrow-eyed gaze on me, my first hint at her thoughts. But then she smiled, and the warmth carried up into her eyes. There were definitely conflicting emotions warring within her, and she'd adeptly covered one for the other in the eye's blink.

‘Yes… The Nazeen,' Fivia drawled, but I didn't for one beat accept her nonchalant tone, not after Ovia's slip.

‘I thought you said my inner privacy was your concern?'

‘As it is, young Razohan,' Ineth counted.

‘Then perhaps Ovia needs to stop rummaging around in my head.'

Ovia's eyes flashed, the change almost imperceptibly.

I prowled around the four. ‘Yes, I felt it.'

Each turned to follow my pacing. ‘This will only work between us if you follow my rules.'

Fivia inhaled, opening her mouth as if to speak, but Carthius placed a silencing hand on hers.

‘Of course, young soul. We aim for cooperation.'

‘A fragment of your life-force lives within the Etherweave, you said, which means your ability to influence me is weak.'

Fivia straightened her shoulders and tilted her head upward, seeming to look down her nose at me while Ovia's eyebrows arched.

‘This is how it will go. You'll give me a warning first before you invade my head, or drag me from my sleep for your entertainment.'

‘This has nothing to do with?—'

I held up my hand. ‘I'm not done yet.'

A faint ripple of unease wafted through the air, causing the hairs on my arms to bristle. The four exchanged sidelong glances, seemingly making a silent decision to avoid direct eye contact with each other, suggesting they were communicating with their minds—an ability I'd never encountered before. But, considering I'd never heard of the Eone before, this shouldn't come as a surprise.

‘I'm also yet to decide if any of what you've said is true. Give me time to think on all you've said.'

‘The time draws near when the Etherweave will be free,' Ineth said.

‘Then you all better hope I've decided before then. Now, I'm going to lie down right here.' I lowered myself to the starry floor. ‘And close my eyes. I expect when I open them again to find myself in my bed.'

‘You have—' Fivia began.

‘We have said what we came to say,' Ineth intercepted her. ‘Now it is up to the young Razohan to decide.' Ineth turned back to me. ‘We hope your decision is wise, Tamas, for the sake of the seven realms.'

Closing my eyes, his solemn warning echoed in my mind, stirring up dormant fears. Was I truly worthy of ascending the Bone Throne? Would the will of Tressya and myself combined be enough to control the Etherweave and prevent it from consuming us? What if the power corrupted one of us, or both of us?

With the weight of such a thought, I lurched up to sitting and found the dawn sunlight filtering through my window. The sudden movement roused the pounding in my head. I bent forward, cradling my head in my hands until the pounding eased, then dragged my fingers down my face and sat straight.

At least I was in my bed. I slid to the edge and stood, stretching through my headache and stiff limbs, then paced to the window and stared out onto the gentle falling of snow.

Resting a hand on the windowpane, my breath hitched with the sudden cold. I left it there until my fingers felt numb, while I pondered on my dream, then turned my right hand over to see a red tear now healed, running down the length of my palm. The scar didn't prove the reality of the Eone's fragmentary existence, just that the dream was real.