Lorcán had responses from several correspondences in the hours after Merikh left. He sent for Raden and soon enough a plan was set in motion to have Raden and Azrael travel to the eastern kingdom. They were to leave Ifera as soon as possible. Raden made it a priority to tell Lorcán about the village where his horse and all their belongings had been kept. Lorcán sent out a team to retrieve what was needed and by afternoon they were back.
Lorcán had the mare fitted with the best saddle and reigns. Everything was packed carefully to fit in the saddle bags. Quick goodbyes were made and the two were off as the sun was low in the sky and the stars began to twinkle good evening.
Days had passed since they left out of Ifera. The Eastern Kingdom's borders weren't far but getting there was a challenge. The Empyrean Mountain range ran for thousands of miles deep into the north. It also created a natural shield for the Eastern kingdom. Raden and Azrael would have to cross it and meet friends of Lorcán's on the other side. The problem was... no one had survived the climb or flight across in written history. They were to be respected or you paid the price.
Night had fallen on the sixth day of travel and the pair had made their way into a minor’s town on the base of the range. A harsh-looking woman met them as they entered the town. Her lantern cast strange shadows around them. Maybe it was from the tired travel that Azrael was seeing strange shapes that weren't there. The woman walked them through the empty dirt street and to a small house. Raden thanked her and watched her leave.
He turned away from the door and watched Azrael pull out a blanket wrapping it around herself. She turned and gave him tired smile. Raden returned with his own tired smile and silently walked over to Azrael. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."
Azrael nodded lazily. Her eyes already filling like lead. "I still don't see why we couldn't use traveler's medallion."
Raden gave a low chuckle. "Lorcán wanted things done in a diplomatic sense. Which means, no traveler's medallion." He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into it. Raden slipped an arm behind Azrael's knees and around her back lifting her up. He carried her to the small bedroom and laid her down on the bed as she curled up almost instantly falling asleep. Raden smiled to himself. She was becoming his world.
~~~*~~~
Raden woke early and headed out careful not to wake Azrael. The chill of the morning hit Raden and sent a chill down his spine. The mountains cast large shadows over the town and the sun wouldn't be visible for a long while. He peered up and let out a low sigh. This wasn't going to be easy.
Do we pray to a God we don't believe in? That voice poked at Raden's thoughts. What to do indeed.
Later in the morning Azrael woke and found Raden sitting outside on the porch. "How long have you been out here?"
"A few hours." He peered up at the mountain. "Do you pray?"
"I haven't prayed in years." Azrael sat on the steps and leaned her back against the harsh wooden post. "My mother always had us pray. She would never say to whom."
Raden nodded and leaned his head back on the wall. He was soaking in the power these mountains exuded. "Were you ever told anything about these mountains?"
Azrael shook her head.
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"The Empyrean Mountain range is some of the oldest in the world. Rumor has it that they're older than the Ancient Gods," Raden explained.
Azrael turned her attention to Raden. "I thought this world was created by the Ancient Gods?"
"Mostly, but there are things here that stood long before the Ancients came to be."
"Who created the mountains then?"
Raden dropped his gaze to Azrael. His body tensed and the mountains themselves seemed to whisper in the wind. "Nameless Gods lost to a long-forgotten era." Azrael felt the sun's warmth die a little. The chill of the air sent goosebumps down her arms. She looked Raden dead in the eyes and felt fear. True terror floods her veins.
"Why are they nameless?" Azrael's voice seemed like someone else talking. She felt a million miles away and wished she was beyond the reach of this town right now.
"The mortals of this realm wanted to forget them. Lore has it that these Gods were not kind. They created what you know as the Ancient Gods. Libena, Arjan, Javaid, and Merikh." Raden's face darkened as he said his master's name and Azrael wasn't sure she wanted him to continue, but she kept silent. "The Ancient Gods decided that this world needed more than just monuments and alters of the Nameless and created mortals who would worship the Nameless. However, they thought little of these mortals and despised them. The Nameless tortured this world for a millennium and ultimately abandoned their creation. The Ancient Gods wanted this world to heal so a few Gods and Goddesses were sent out. The world was finally flourishing and humans were beginning to worship those Gods and Goddesses that would present themselves. The Ancient Gods chose to keep the names of the silent their creators. They were to be forgotten by this realm and no longer worshipped."
Azrael's breath hitched as she peered up and saw that a dark shadow had fallen across the face of the mountain.
"They became the Nameless Gods and were nothing more than whispers among humans and their stories. So they hid."
"Hid?"
Raden nodded. "The Nameless Gods placed their powers within their creations. One is this range. It's said that no man has reached the summit of one mountain because the Nameless Gods despise anyone who dares disrespects their powers." He saw the horror wash across Azrael's face.
"Then why are we trying to fly over it?"
"That is because we can't use your handy little medallion because as soon as you touch the ground on the other side then it's Eastern Kingdom territory. Secondly, there's something about your powers we need to discuss."
Azrael sat away from the wooden post digging into her back. "Is this about the war?"
"Yes and no." Raden stretched out his wings as they were going numb. "Lorcán believes that your abilities are rooted in the old magic of these Gods." He waited for her response but Azrael sat silent. Her expression was still of fear. "I'm not going to sit here and act like I know what he was talking about because I don't. He however wanted us to see what would happen to your powers when we go over the mountain."
"And the war?"
Raden sighed. "Your powers make you the perfect weapon. You were right about that, but Merikh isn't trying to protect you because the Serkan came for you. Merikh wants you for himself to use to wipe out their forces." Azrael ran a hand through her hair and tucked her knees under her chin.
"So I'm safe no matter what. I'm just seen as a weapon for war." She looked over but there was hurt in her eyes. A hurt that had been there from a young age.
Raden walked over and knelt down before her, tilting her chin up slightly. "You're far more than your powers Azrael. Don't let that define you and don't let their greed hide you away. If what Lorcán says is true, then you are capable of some pretty spectacular magic."
"That's what scares me. I can't control that kind of power. I heard the stories of those with chaos magic. No one can control it," Azrael almost pleaded. Her hands were shaking and tears were brimming her eyes.
Raden gently took her hands holding them tightly. "Were they ever taught or were they forced to contain a force that should never be contained?"
Azrael stared at him dumbfounded. She let what he said to resonate with her. Magic as all knew flowed through the lands in great force. Those who use it know that stopping that force can create a dangerous bomb waiting to explode. Chaos magic was the same, but it was forced to keep hidden. Was it because they saw it as a dangerous weapon or because it was a direct line to the power the Nameless Gods harnessed?