For weeks the King of the South Delvakhan accompanied by Mora, Baron Burakani and Empress Elidra with her sizable Rakshar army continued to lose ground against the Rhiyan forces constantly being pushed farther and farther west away from Hnor. Opting to send the bulk of the Rakshar forces in the opposite direction, Delvakhan reduced their group to a small band of twenty or so. Losing ground even faster, by the third week they were several days travel from where they started near Blackroot. Each day they seemed to press forward or at least hold some ground, only to loose it and more as night fell and the witches kept them from sleep or retreat.
With every battle and fight it seemed as if those that fell only gave life to creatures that were more like the demon Zhandoga than a regular man. During those nights between the witch attacks, strange lights and sounds haunted them from deep within the Rhiyan forces which only ended when the faces of their own people began to assault them yet again. It was a state of madness to which they could find no answer and could only run from it.
Entering the most bitter time of winter the heavy smell of water only seemed to add to the biting cold that refused to warm even as the sun was high above them. Finally Delvakhan relented and ordered them to retreat as quickly as possible to the coast. Once they reached it, carefully they made their way through the piercing stone formations that formed the coastal face. Even jutting out of the waters monstrous pillars reached toward the sky as heavy waves crashed against them violently.
All said a silent prayer of thanks as several caves were discovered between the rock formations carving small but accommodating shelter from the direct cold and winds. Any sounds they made were covered by the crashing waters. The constant winds blew away any smoke from their fires, making them almost invisible. For the time, they were safe and protected from the cold.
Elidra was the first to hear the strange whispers that grew loud every dawn just before the sun broke the horizon. By the sixth day sleep was no longer possible as a new madness threatened to overcome them all.
“I keep hearing her voice, I can’t take it anymore.” Elidra spoke through heavy tears. “Every morning she calls out to me and every morning I am faced with a dull rock surface.”
“We can’t head back and we can’t go forward. All we can do is attempt to remain sane and hold out until the cold has lessened.” Delvakhan responded.
“We can’t hold out here, if we try to, we will go mad. Its even worse than when our own people came back to us.” Burakani sighed heavily.
Mora and Elidra remained focused on the fire trying to shake the voices. Only Burakani seemed to not be as affected. Even Delvakhan struggled with the voice of his mother in his head until the sun was almost high above them signaling midday.
“We could try to go in.” Burakani stated as he stared at the back wall of the cave. “You, I and the other Rakshar can search for more caves. There has to be an answer to those voices. Something is making this happen.”
Mora shook her head violently. “ENOUGH. I can’t take this we have to leave these caves. I can’t take it here anymore.”
Standing suddenly and moving almost robotically, Mora drew heavy furs tight around her and simply walked out of the cave and began meandering through the crags. Burakani took off in pursuit as Delvakhan nodded to him, then refocused his attention to the fire, lost in the whispering voices and flicking flames.
Delvakhan had no idea how long Burakani was gone he only knew the voices didn’t stop even as the flames flickered to almost nothing. Without warning the voices turned to a scream that caused him to close his eyes and drop his head into his hands. In the darkness of his closed eyes he found a small light that pulsated, beckoning him to get closer as the screaming refused to stop. In his mind he could see himself clawing at the earth dragging him closer yet at a terrible slow pace. His arms ached as he pulled himself through more earth. Pausing for just a moment, the screaming lessened slightly. Testing his discovery, he began to claw his way toward the still every so small light. Once again the screams increased in intensity.
From deep within him he knew something was trying to stop him from reaching the light and yet he knew if he didn’t he would be trapped in the darkness with the screaming. With renewed vigor Delvakhan clawed deeper and faster pushing past the pains and aches of his limps as he continued for what seemed hour after hour.
More than dry his mouth felt dusty and full of dirt and debris from his clawing, yet finally the light seemed to be a little larger, ever beckoning him toward it. Yelling in gasped breaths he refused to stop clawing his body toward the light. Just before him he found the light was small, but he could touch it.
Carefully he tried to grab it and found there was something unseen acting as a barrier. In frustration and anger with the last strength of his body Delvakhan clenched his fist and punch at the light. As the shrieking in his head escalated, Delvakhan swung again. As his fist connected he felt the crack of something against his blow followed by a pain that forced him to open his eyes. Vomit of bile dirt and whitish fluid formed puddle just inches from his nose as his body convulsed repeatedly.
A blast of fresh air tumbled him backwards as finally the voices disappeared from his mind. It was so dark he no longer knew for certain where he was, only that is was dark, warm and offered him surprisingly fresh air. Tasting the foul taste of his own vomit lingering in his mouth, Delvakhan breathed in deep and before he could move again, he slept and this time there were no voices to wake him.
Dazed and cloudy his mind opened and beckoned him from his sleep. Slowly and timidly he fluttered his eyelids, almost too frightened to open them. Delvakhan was relieved there were no voices whispering in his mind. In the absence of the whispering, the King of the South found the courage to finally just open his eyes. Carefully looking side to side he could see only a grey haze all around him. Outstretching his arms and extending his fingers, Delvakhan found he could see to his fingernails but no further.
Breathing deeply he felt fresh air fill his lungs. It was overall warm yet slightly chilled as if tainted with water. It was fog! Delvakhan was in the midst of a deep fog almost identical of the kind that would cover the Rakshar town he once called home. His mother often called it the breath of Xhuri, hiding what was known and leaving us only with ourselves.
As a boy the words just seemed like a fable without real meaning. But now, he could see the wisdom in her words and her story. Alone now in the fog, Delvakhan was without voices, input or thoughts other than his own. Slowly as the thoughts swarmed in his head, he sat breathing the warm air deeply as his mind wiped away his here and now. Using his years of Rakshar training he calmed all his thoughts of what was the past and what is his present.
Nothing in his life was what he wanted. What did being the King of the South grant him; pain and suffering and for a people he was born to but was not a part of. Delvakhan realized he was without a direction or a cause he cared about. His training, his journey beyond Dragonspine, ‘saving’ the Rakshar Empress as part of a war not his own and now his search for a child he truly did not care about; all because he was told to. It was not a choice, but a followed order as a child would to a parent.
“You speak with the logic of a child and not that of a king or a man.” A voice filled his head, similar to the whispers he heard before, yet much more powerful and very direct. “There comes a time when one must shed what is taken as truth as a boy and realize what it is to be man.”
“So says a voice without a form hidden in a fog.” Delvakhan stated bitterly as he tried to pinpoint the familiarity of the voice. “Your words are just another example of a precursor to another ‘order’ that I will have to follow.”
“So says the child King of the South. Continue your Rakshar meditation; you may just find truth in my words.” The voice responded without emotion. “Everything around you is a choice and there will be many more choices for you to make.”
“There is no choice when no option is offered and there is only one answer.” He realized part of it now. It wasn’t just one voice, but several voices that seemed to speak at the same time. One voice in particular kept grabbing his attention, but he couldn’t pinpoint it.
“If one chooses not to see another option and only accept what is in front of them, then even at that moment they have made a choice. But how much easier is it to run from self accountability?” Even without emotion the comment jabbed him deeply.
“Go away.” Delvakhan snapped to the fog.
He realized the person or people talking to him were gone the moment the words passed his lips. Standing again, unable to stop turning over the words the voice offered him, Delvakhan simply began to wander around the fog. In short order he found where ever he was it was much larger than his instinct offered. The ground and the walls were just like the rock walls he found in their shallow caves by the shoreline, yet he couldn’t make out or touch a ceiling.
Searching for the location he entered the larger, Delvakhan found a small hole in the rock with claw marks etched in the stone. Looking closer he could see streaks of blood mixed with the marks. Immediately looking at his finger and then touching the scratches, he realized this was where he entered and the hole was made by his own hands. Testing the rock, it felt just as solid as he figured it would. Closing his eyes Delvakhan breathed in deeply and clenched his fist. Before he could think himself out of it, he punched at the stone.
Hot streaks of pain filled his fingers and shot through his wrist and up his arm to his elbow. Gripping his fist with his other hand Delvakhan couldn’t help but laugh at him. Of course the rock was solid. He couldn’t help but wonder if he still wasn’t going mad.
Looking back at the hole, the thought of returning and hearing the whispers was simply out of the question. There was nothing back in the shallow cave he wanted. Since he wasn’t going back, there was only one thing for him to do. Delvakhan turned his back on the hole he created and simply began to walk away.
****
Within what Delvakhan felt was a couple hours, the fog dissipated and he found the cavern wasn’t nearly as large as he thought it would be. At the far end the wall closed against the backdrop of a pond blocking his way. He could find nothing to test the water with and was left with entering the water or sitting and doing nothing.
Slowly the King of the South reached and touched the water. It was cool almost to the point of cold and murky, yet without smell. Taking a deeper breath Delvakhan plunged his entire arm into the water. Although cool, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Swinging his arm about, he could feel no bottom. To his surprise he was able to reach under the stone in which he knelt on. Feeling the edge more, he was surprised to find the stone ledge was much thinner than he would have thought possible.
Attempting to reach even further, Delvakhan lost his balance and toppled into the water. Trying to open his eyes, he found the water stung smartly under his eyelids. The taste, while not foul, was odd and unpleasant. Holding onto the ledge while he rubbed the water out of his eyes, his feet found no bottom, yet he could feel a current tugging at his lower legs.
Using the thin ledge, he moved toward the far wall and found it stopped at the waters surface. Reaching under as far as his extended fingertips could feel, there was still only stone, yet the water against the stone seemed warmer. Without a second thought considering he was already wet, Delvakhan dove under the wall. Using his hands and feet to help propel him through the water tunnel, he felt for the end. As he continued to move along it, his lungs began to burn, aching for air. Clenching his eyes closed to avoid the stings he felt when he first entered, panic forced his hands and feet to work harder. Repeatedly he scratched and tugged at stone until suddenly his fingers folded over an edge and warm air blew against them.
Pulling as hard as he could, Delvakhan’s head broke the surface and took in a long deep breath. As the warm air began to quickly dry his exposed skin, the King of the South could hear the roaring of a fire. Holding onto the wall he opened his eyes and stilled with shock at the size of the fire in the room. The air, dry and warm was almost suffocating and the water pool around him seemed to serve as a run off that cascaded off steaming rocks that were almost covered by strange funnels reaching upward toward the ceiling. Even the giant fire pit had a huge similar device surrounding it and reaching upward.
Pulling himself back onto the rock, Delvakhan quickly used his cloth covered forearms to protect him from the surprising heat of the smooth rock floor. Moving as close to the fire as he could, the young king found a stairway leading up and away from the fire. Making a quick check of himself Delvakhan swore under his breath as he realized he was without a weapon or any form of supplies. He was failing on the basics of keeping himself alive and somehow he was king. Frowning and shaking off the thoughts, Delvakhan, King of the South began ascending the spiraling stairs that followed the edges of the room and followed the massive funnel above the fire.
Moving higher, the natural heat vapors reached an almost suffocating point. His breath became shallow and labored as sweat poured from his face. Reaching up to wipe it away, Delvakhan surprised himself finding heavy stubble on his cheeks and chin. Letting out a sigh as he reached the top of the staircase and stood before a large refined that appeared to be sealed. With a quick look he could not see a bottom sliver opening on any of the edges. Groaning he pushed harshly against it, only have it swing open easily causing him to fall forward.
Regaining his composure, Delvakhan quietly and quickly pushed the door back into its place. The hall he stood in quickly adjusted to a comfortable temperature a far cry from the hot room he came from. While the previous room offered much in illumination due to the massive fire, the hall only offered flickers from the various lanterns strategically placed for use. Moving carefully along the hall, the sounds and signs of life echoed softly off the walls. Between the lanterns the walls were painted in scenes as if they told a story.
One in particular showed a massive human bursting with muscles pushing past armor that seemed to be worn for show striking against a small human dressed in white and carrying a glowing sword. Behind each stood a massive force and littered with mangled, bloody and dismembered creatures, humans and something else. High above them both a female blazing in fire held the sun in one hand and the moon in another looking at another man who held a dead human in his hands while tears fell from his eyes.
Everything throughout the mural was telling a story he simply didn’t understand. Parts that seemed as if he should know about them or at least recognize simply caused him only to stare harder, left with wonder. Often times the colors seemed to be just off what they should be or the faces missing something that would put the puzzle together and stop the confusion that only continued to grow in him as he poured over the details.
Single strands of hair were painstakenly drawn to the finest detail, yet still off in some way or another. And the colors, Delvakhan couldn’t let go of the colors and how they like the rest of the picture were just off a touch. Almost as if he was looking at it through some type of filter, yet even the filter was unseen. Here and there he would think he had it figured out, only to be drawn to another section of the wall.
Finally he saw a figure he recognized although the face seemed much younger. Amadagu, the Timewalker, stood above a massive fissure in the ground, staff in hand with the head of a male and female human on each end. Never had he seen such images that called out to him. In horror he realized, the whispers had returned, quiet and almost soothing as they locked his attention on the murals. Delvakhan now knew the whispers emanated from the mural and knew he was looking at them. They wanted him to see the mural.
Looking closer at the woman holding the sun and moon, Delvakhan could now hear her voice. She knew his name and the names of all he knew. Image after image entered his head he could not explain showing him people and places that were alien, fiery and without mercy. From every corner and every angle, massive piles of dead bodies, mangled and deformed that seemed to form a wall blocking from view something he felt he wanted to see. As he struggled to see beyond, the woman’s laughter filled his head with a taunt; “you are blind boy king and for this you will fail and die”.
Turning away suddenly, Delvakhan found himself face to face with a pair of kind eyes and a warm smile. Instinctively he dropped into a stance burned into him by his Rakshar training. His actions were only met with an even broader smile.
“You have followed the voices and found your beginning journey to the One. In this you will be named and you will be chosen. But that will not be now.”
Before he could respond or move, the man’s hand suddenly reached out and touched his forehead.
“Sleep.” It was the last command Delvakhan, King of the South heard as he felt his legs crumble beneath him as he succumbed to the darkness.
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