Crane opened his eyes with a gasp of pain as a small feline tongue swept along his face. It was a cat with silky black fur and pure green eyes. He knew her. She was Mefdet. One of the kinder spirits on the isle.
“You alive son?” Mefdet asked him, slowly tapping her little paw on his face.
“No,” Crane grumbled. “I feel dead.”
“You look dead.” The edge of her mouth curled up as she stretched her small body. Hearing the cracks coming from the feline spine reminded him of the moments right before he passed out.
“Ouch.” Crane let out a gasp as he tried to sit but failed. A few of his ribs as well as his left collarbone was broken. His broken bones poked his flesh beneath his skin, making him shriek in every breath.
“Come here.” Mefdet got closer and opened Crane’s shirt, ripping the cloth with her claws in a swift swing. Besides many bruises, Mefdet saw a thin, hard-covered book. It was tucked in the belt he wrapped around his waist and the cover of the book was broken.
“Good thing you like to read.” Mefdet chuckled as she put her paw on his chest and the pain got covered by a faint veil of comfort. “Easing the pain wouldn’t do much if Anem punched a hole through you.”
“Thanks.” Crane tried to get up, this time successful thanks to Mefdet’s spell. Crane needed to learn how to do that if he really wished to leave the island for good.
He then leaned on to Mefdet and scratched the black cat’s back as it licked itself. “I thought he would stop after a few hits.”
“Oh yeah, that’s the spot.” Mefdet let out a content purr. “I mean yeah me too. But it was fun watching you scream.”
Mefdet stopped licking herself clean as Crane abruptly stopped scratching.
“What? It was kinda rough but not that overboard, you know? A Kavna usually ends with one of the mages dead if not both.” She defended herself and quickly glanced at Azavel, only to turn immediately back to Crane. He felt like Mefdet couldn’t get the reaction she expected from Azavel because now she was looked at him with her white eyes wide open, showing a small hint of guilt.
“On the second thought, he was being a total jerk.” Mefdet rubbed her forehead to Crane’s hand.
“You know how hypocritical you sound, right?” Crane gave her a questioning look.
“Sounds fair.” Mefdet nimbly got onto her little paws. “Then let me help you get back into shape again.” She walked deeper into the forest. “I know a place.”
Crane struggled to get up on his feet for a while but when he finally managed to do it, he collapsed face to the ground on his first step.
“You coming or not?” Mefdet asked looking back.
“You want scratches, right? I know a great place right behind the ears and…” He was going to continue but he saw Mefdet grow in size. Sizes for spirits were not as set in stones for material folk. They could manipulate it at their will to some degree.
Mefdet, now the size of an overgrown tiger pulled Crane up to his back and gave him the book and as she slowly walked to his destination, Crane asked.
“So, where are we going?”
“To the willow.” Mefdet briefly asked to Crane’s surprise. That place was only good if one wanted to kill oneself. Not to heal.
“You sure it is fine?” Crane asked again. “No one can pet you if I’m dead.”
“I know.” Mefdet agreed with him. “Trust me.”
“But Anem told…”
“Since when you listen to whatever the hell that old man says?”
It was a valid argument and Crane had no strength to protest. So, he simply laid down on the fluffy blanket that was Mefdet’s back. Soon, the surrounding trees grew weaker and weaker and Mefdet’s paws dipped in wet soil in each step. “Here.” she showed a small tree, a few hundred meters away from the giant willow tree right about the place where the air got heavier, and the mists of poison began.
Beneath the tree was a tunnel, its roots serving as a roof to the entrance. Mefdet grew smaller in size, small enough to squeeze through the narrow cavern yet still large enough to carry Crane.
“Should we go to the light?” Crane asked Mefdet, seeing the glimmering white light at the end of the tunnel.
“Ha ha.” Mefdet pouted. “Very funny.”
The cavern was a lot different than what Crane expected. What he expected was a cave his height and a small puddle, maybe a few drops dripping from a stalactite. What he saw, however; was completely different. The cave or the hall was big. It was massive. At the center, there was a tree, stretching up almost 15 meters, penetrating the ceiling. Its branches spread out like the bars of a birdcage, creating the skeleton that kept the cave standing, and beneath the tree, there was a dark monolith, trapped by the roots of the Willow and they both stood on a small island, encompassed by dark, black water.
Small fireflies flew aimlessly around the emptiness, giving an eerie light to the cave and their light was reflected by the pale white runes covering both the monolith and the lower parts of the tree, getting weaker and less visible as it got higher.
“Is this the pond you were talking about?” Crane raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a bit ominous?”
“It’s not more ominous than challenging Anem to a Kavna.” Mefdet blurted out as Crane got off her back. “Why do you ask for his permission?” She continued. “Why don’t you just… leave?”
“You think I haven’t tried?” Crane groaned as he finally took off whatever was left of his clothes and turned back. “You see this?” He asked Mefdet, showing scorch marks in the shape of a leafless autumn tree. “We live in the eye of a fucking storm, kitty. There is no sound or sight of it, but I have seen it.” Crane soaked in water, too tired to even take off his clothes.
The pond was dark, not because the cave was dark as it was full of thousands of fireflies, but because it was indeed black. He couldn’t see the parts of his body submerged in the smokey water, and no light reflected from its surface.
“Ahh…” He continued. “I tried a few times. Every single time waves washed me immediately back to the shores but one day, ohh one day I almost lost sight of the island once but then something happened. A storm engulfed my raft, appearing out of nowhere. It felt like I passed a veil of illusion and as soon as I crossed to the other side, the storm noticed me.”
“What?” Mefdet asked as she watched Crane right on the edge of the water. “You must have hit your head hard.”
“I did.” He agreed, laughing bitter. “But not before the storm smote me. I blacked out that instant and found myself lying on the coast, Anem standing right beside me.”
“You think it’s his job?”
“Not exactly.” Crane raised his left hand instinctively to scratch his chin and expected a sharp pain in his collarbone, but the pond had done its work. He was completely healed.
“Holy shit.” Crane turned back to Mefdet, surprised. “It works a lot faster than I thought.”
“Right?” Mefdet got closer to Crane. “You think you forget something?”
“Oh, right!” Crane started to scratch the back of her head.
“Eww…” Mefdet protested. “Your hands are all wet.” Though she was protesting, she didn’t move an inch and enjoyed the treatment.
“Anyways,” Crane continued. “He looked really worried when he saw me lying down. If he were the one who controlled the storm, he wouldn’t hit me in the back with lightning. Turning the raft down he could do but he wouldn’t go that far.”
After a brief pause and questioning look from Mefdet, Crane continued. “All right. Maybe he would. I don’t know. But I’m sure I felt something else. It wasn’t as humane as him.”
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“Then why you ask him?” Mefdet was puzzled. “Shouldn’t you be asking the clouds instead?”
“I would have if I could, but I don’t need it. Anem has a way of leaving. He has a familiar. A god damn wyvern!” Crane hit his free hand to the water. “Can you believe it!”
“How do you know it’s his familiar anyways?” Mefdet asked again. She was fairly old, maybe older than Anem but living on the island for her all life, she had never seen a familiar.
“It was reeking of Anem’s aura.” Crane’s face soured. “One day I was walking around the eastern hills, hiding from Anem, and out of nowhere and Azavel started to scream that Anem was there. Luckily, he had misidentified the wyvern as the old man, or we’d be done for. I might have done a few things that made him go mad.”
A feline giggle escaped from Mefdet’s mouth. “I think you could have just taken the beast without him noticing and left? Bribing it with a few sheep maybe?”
“First of all, no. I am not going to sacrifice any of my friends. No one can touch Black and White while I still breathe.”
Mefdet rolled her eyes. She didn’t get Crane’s affection for the sheep. He could have eaten them ages ago! Yet, he had chosen to only feed and fatten them. Those two were so fat that even only one of them would feed her for a month. Not that she needed sustenance like mortals but, still mutton tasted great no matter how full you were.
“And secondly.” Crane continued. “Familiar and the master are quite alike. They both start breathing flames as I get closer to ask for something.”
“Makes sense.” Mefdet purred as she curled into a ball. “I’m really sleepy.” She continued. “Have you read any good stories lately?”
“Not anything interesting that I haven’t already told you about.” Crane stretched his arms, slowly yawning as a single tear glided through his cheek. “Or… Would you be interested in cultivation methods used in Northeast Nevra?” Crane raised an eyebrow, showing a slight smile.
“You poor thing.” Mefdet licked her paws. “You know Nevra is nothing but desert nowadays, right?”
“What a shame.” Crane sulked. “There were a few illustrations of delicious-looking fruits.”
“Now we know why you bothered to read it!” Mefdet chuckled. “What about the book that saved your life? What is it about?”
“Ah… That diary. Can you bring it to me?” Crane asked Mefdet. “I haven’t started reading it but if you want, I can read it aloud.”
Mefdet agreed and purred in joy, quickly bringing the book that was lying around with Crane’s clothes.
Crane held the diary in his hands, his body still under the water, lying on the coast. The green hardcover was broken into half, bearing the marks of Anem’s knuckles. He opened the book gently, fearing that the loosely attached pages would fall. It was already a miracle that the book was still in one piece.
He opened the book and looked at the first page and a cursive handwriting welcomed him. Marivek, it wrote in cursive and continued, Son of Cadeghan. It was a diary of a traveler from the lands of the north, Cadeghan, and his journey. Crane loved reading the logs of these travelers, they almost made him feel like he had already left the island.
“I am sorry Therialt.” Crane started reading the book. “I know I have sworn to never write again, but I had to. Last night, I met a young man. I was watching a storm on the coast of Maw’adril. If I hadn’t known that he died alongside you, I would think that Adril was still mourning for your death.”
Crane stopped reading. “Adril sounds familiar. Wasn’t he a spirit? I thought you guys were immortal?”
“Immortal to the age.” Mefdet opened her green eyes, her tail firm and erect. “Still, no one is safe from the embrace of death.”
After a brief pause, Crane continued. “Sky cried and the bolts of lightning whipped the waves of Maw’adril. Amidst those waves, I saw a young man who dared to sail on such a dreadful night. Even in the storm, even in dark, he wasn’t hard to miss. He worked one magic after another, ordering the winds to keep the sails steady, deflected every lightning that struck his small boat, he pushed the waves as hard as he could but, in the end, the sea was the victorious one. It swallowed him.
I thought that he would be lost in the depths of the Maw’adril and feed the Ezrag slithering on the seabed, but the sea refused to be his resting place. The waves washed him to the shores, and I went to see him. The night was gone, and the storm was dead. He lied there still, drenched in saltwater, and washed by the sand. I saw him, and as I did, I realized why the sea didn’t accept him. He had grown a lot but there was no way I wouldn’t recognize him. Two empty holes in his left earlobe, a book he deemed to be holy in his hands, tightly gripped even though he was unconscious, and pair of short swords, of dark steel of Yrid lying beside him. Had the Ezrag known who he was, they not let him escape. Adril’s children would avenge. He was the last son of the Kinslayer. He was your murderer.”
“Wow.” Mefdet cut him. “You found a hell of a diary.”
“I think so too.” Crane continued. “But I’ve never heard of this Kinslayer guy before.”
“He must have missed the island.” Mefdet tickled the young man with her tail. It wasn’t uncommon finding names that they didn’t know in the books. All the archive the temple had was centuries old, knowledge obsolete. Still, Crane enjoyed reading them. They were better than nothing.
After a while, Crane realized that he was not reading the diary as Mefdet poked him with her paw.
“Hey!” She shouted. “I wanna learn what happens the next.”
Instead of the book, he was looking at the monolith. The black wall was of marble and covered in white runes that made Crane remember shining stars. He had no idea what those rules meant. As soon as he focused and tried to understand it, they changed their shapes and meanings. Still, the carvings were the same. Whoever did this, was the top of his job Crane thought.
“I thought of slitting his throat in his sleep but that would be too merciful for that beast.” He continued reading. “I’ll wait for when he wakes up, and then I will avenge you. I will fight him, fair and square. I will exact the price of your lives.”
Crane looked at Mefdet, who was sleeping peacefully, and let to book by her side.
“I’m going to the monolith.” He talked to Azavel. “Stay alert. I feel something is coming.”
Crane waited for no answers and slowly swam to the island across the pond. He needed to go there. There was something, something he couldn’t see yet but deep in the soul that called for him.
Each time he swung his arm, his stroked were heavier. His limbs got slower and slower as he got closer to the monolith. He urged his body to move, but it didn’t listen to him as the water slowly swallowed him. He wasn’t anxious. He wasn’t afraid. He felt like meeting an old friend as he closed his eyes and let himself into the water’s will.
*****
Crane found himself on his knees, his hand reaching out to a lying silhouette. His vision was hazy. It wasn’t crystal clear as always; everything was blurry and unstable. It felt like looking behind an old looking glass.
The place looked like a temple. Above him stood a giant dome, with frescos and statues ornamenting it. The walls of dark stone and the long white pillars that held the dome surrounded him in a circle.
“You thought no one would reach from the other side?” Crane laughed, his voice alien to him. “What a fool.”
Before him lied down a man, clad in dark robes once but now only below his waist had the luxury of being clothed. Above his waist, his whole body was scorched. His molten dark skin revealed patches of dark bones. No hair, no eyes no lips. The man should have been dead already, yet he was full of live.
He then felt his hands touching the cold flesh after briefly looking at the body, but the hands didn’t belong to him. Some unknown hand with claw like nails stood where his hand would be. It was out of his control as well. Crane could do nothing but feel the shock as the hand sank deep into the stomach, and crept in. It found its way amidst the wet and cold organs and finally reached on to the heart, ripping it in a swift motion.
“I told you.” Crane giggled, but it didn’t sound like him. The cold and sinister hissing wasn’t like him at all. “I told you.” He elongated each word as he repeated himself like singing a song.
“You will not get away.” The calm reply from the corpse surprised Crane. “You can’t hide. Neither in shadows, nor in light. I’ll find y…” The dead man was going to continue but Crane ripped a part of the man’s robe and shoved it up his mouth.
“Who says I’m going to hide?” Crane laughed as he got up. Dozens of disfigured bodies laid around the huge room. All dark as coal. Some beheaded and with torn limbs. At the center, there were an altar with another man lying on top. He was fully naked and stabbed right through the heart with a dagger. He walked away, ungracefully stepping onto those poor souls.
He walked to the door and grasped handle with his cold and blue scaly hands but suddenly stopped.
“Oh! How forgetful of me!” He turned back and rushed to the altar at the center of the hall. He picked the dagger from its golden hilt and pulled the dark blade out of its resting place.
Blood dripped blade reflected Crane’s face like a mirror, however; it wasn’t his face. A pair of uneven horns crowned his rotten head. Better half of his disfigured visage was covered with blue ashen scales. The other half fashioned an empty eye socket on his left side, surrounded with charred black skin that failed to completely cover his skull. A few of his teeth could be seen even as his mouth was closed in a wretched smirk.
“I salute you!” He smiled at his reflection at the blade, at Crane. “From one fiend to another. It's horrible to see you.”
****
In sweat, he jumped out of deep slumber as he felt Viran staring right back at his soul with his sole eye. In fear, he woke up from his dream.
The ground was shaking. He was lying down on the ground, where the pond was supposed the be. All the water was gone, and the Willow barely stood against the earthquake.
The fireflies were all gone, but light still accompanied him. The runes on the monolith were shining like thousands of stars.
It was hard to stand as the earth kept shaking. So, he waited until the earth had calmed down and got up on his feet. On the monolith, amidst the shining runes; there was a small crack.
He climbed the once island and now hill, getting closer to the wall. He looked at the shining runes and touched the crack. Just as he did it, the earth shook for the last time. The crack widened again now as wide a fist. Shocked, he took a step back and saw that all the runes had lost their light except a dozen, which were all scattered around the wall. They were shining even brighter. Crane could read them. He could feel them. But he didn’t know what they meant.
Crane looked behind the wall through the crack. He heard a voice, a beast growling, and a pair of eyes opened amidst the darkness. They were crimson as blood and bright as fire. Crane froze the moment he saw those eyes. It was like looking at death itself. He felt the warmth leaving his body and started to tremble as he heard chains slowly scratching the ground. This time, he trembled not because of the earthquake but because of terror.
While he was frozen, he saw the shining runes again. He tried to read it. He tried to shout them but what came out of his mouth was nothing more than a frail whisper.
The rune, however; was much stronger than what he anticipated. Wording it took all his power and instantly made him collapse onto the ground. His consciousness faded away in a flash and just as he closed his eyes, he saw the crack closing like a flesh wound healing and heard the howls of the beast echoing inside.