Knight In White Satin - Chapter Seven

Crow’s Pass fell sometime during the third night. When the sun rose, Nohric covered in blood and gore, with quite a bit of it his own, was woken by the burning sun beating onto his face. All around him the smell of death and blood filled his nose and caused bile to threaten the back of his throat. He wanted to move, cursed it to move yet nothing responded. The general realized he couldn’t feel his legs or his arms. A ringing in his ears made his head pound. Wanting to turn away from the sun he could only resort to closing his eyes. Quickly he was once again asleep.

Slowly opening his eyes, Nohric could feel the fever burning his cheeks hot and pouring sweat down his face. A sweat fly landed courageously on his cheek and dug deep into his skin. He wanted to yelp and swat it away, but nothing in him responded. No hand answered the call. No arm raised in assistance. No sound emitted from his throat and even his lips refused to part. Paralysis was setting into his body, bit by bit. He remembered part of it now; Zhandoga had himself stormed the pass. Still wounded the General lunged forward to meet the attack. The foul blade the demon possessed shattered the man’s weapon. The force was so harsh; it rattled through is entire body. Pressure shot through is arm into his shoulder and then his chest, ripping open his previous wound. Immediately his strength passed and when the second blow landed Nohric only knew terrible pain as he crumbled to the ground. Without a second thought, Zhandoga stepped past him and continued to slaughter the defenders of the pass.

Tears formed in his eyes; he had failed. He never formed the message to warn Sorc. All those that fled to the city would be dead in a week’s time. Aura, who he promised to watch out for, would certainly be dead or captured. Dargo’s family would fall without mercy. Harris’ sons would surely be killed. He could see the proud young men charging into battle as their father would. Once Sorc fell it would only be a matter of time before Windra befell the same fate and then the legacy of the south, his proud family who had served the south for all of history would be wiped from history. General Nohric had failed in the one task of his life that couldn’t accept failure; protection of the south. Sighing deeply or at least feeling the burden of the sigh, Nohric closed his eyes and he knew with all he was it would be the last time.
“They didn’t take the pass you know. They retreated.” The aged voice he recognized filled his head and snapped him awake.”

Much to his surprise Nohric’s eyes snapped open and looked sternly at the robed figure sitting next to him. Every time things were terribly hopeless he would show up and offer something. But this, they didn’t take the pass, how could they not?

“With us beaten, by the Light, why wouldn’t they take it Ama?” Nohric questioned with a slight twinge of anger toward the old druid.

“Recalled unfortunately.” Amadagu stood and then turned to look Nohric directly in the eyes as if he were studying the effects of his words in the general’s face.

“They would have no reason to do such. Either you have gotten senile or I am dead and this is a dream.” He responded as he attempted to move and still found his body not responding.

Bending slightly the druid started laughing. “That is rather good Nohric. I guess I am old enough to be senile. But I am not there yet. As for a dream, well I think that is rather wishful thinking on your part.”

Attempting to look at his body, Nohric returned his look to the druid. “I can’t seem to move nor feel anything.”

“Oh that.” The old man responded absently. “I suppose we should attend to that wound and unpin your body. That stone did quite a number on you.”

Nohric held his eyes opened wide and suddenly he could see the giant stone not an inch from his chin. Straining his neck he could see a splash of red at his side and against the stone. Breathing deeply he looked up again and saw the clearness of sky. Just at the corner of his view, he saw where part of the ancient wall had broken free. In that moment he had to chuckle at himself a bit.

“A damnable rock eh?” Nohric looked back at Amadagu.

“Zhandoga isn’t much a swordsman. Strong yes, not very accurate though.” The Timewalker responded.

Clarity filled his thoughts, he indeed fought Zhandoga and his wound reopened. When the demon lifted his weapon and then swung it down to kill him, he clipped the wall edge and broke free a large chunk of stone which crashed into the General before he could jump out of the way.

“I saw a completely different vision when I woke earlier.” He commented as his dropped his head back, closed his eyes and thanked Xhuri for the blessing.

“Fever dreams; surely your chest is infected. I think this stone has rested on you long enough.” Placing his hands on the stone the druid paused for a moment and a quirky smile formed. “This is really going to hurt when the blood returns to your limbs, you might want to bite down on something.”

Nohric knew the truth in his words. Over the years he had to hold down men that had been partially crushed from a battle accident as the blood returned to injured limbs that caused them to lash out and scream in pain. The general couldn’t feel the wound on his chest and he knew it was going to surge through ever part of him.

Instinctively he squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the air around him compressed. Thunder exploded into his ears as the rock exploded into billions of pieces and fell around him as dust. Tingling sensations shot through is body as blood once again flowed to his limbs. Almost immediately pain in his chest exploded his senses. Clenching his teeth harshly his voice threatened to scream out into the air. Although he couldn’t see him, he could feel the compressed air move around him as the druid worked his craft on his beaten body.

So very different was Amadagu’s gift from his own. Nohric couldn’t even begin to understand how the druid worked; he only knew it always worked. As much as he wanted to believe he was the protector of the south, the general knew this man known as the Timewalker was its true protector. It didn’t matter how terrible, when the darkness threatened to consume, he would arrive to offer light and hope.

Strong arms lifted him to his still wobbly feet. Pain still wracked his body, but Nohric felt some strength in his legs and new the worst had passed. As the old druid held him in support, it amazed the general just how strong and comforting Amadagu was. Nohric moved to offer thanks but Amadagu lifted his hand and nodded.

“Go to Sorc General Nohric, bring them news of relief. Once you have done such, return to your family in Windra it is not yet time for the calamity that is this war.” Amadagu stated as they began to walk.

“What am I to tell them?” He questioned in wonderment.

“Tell them the Rhiya’s retreated in order to fulfill their version of the Prophecy. In that we are blessed with a reprieve. Tell them to find some enjoyment.” Once again there was a great sadness in the druid’s eyes.

Concern and disappointment filled the general’s voice. “But what of Delva and his destiny?”

“It is filled, for Delva is not the chosen, but his bloodline will be. Minoc has been raised and he knows all too well if Delvakhan and the south are killed now, they will lose the final battle. He will not allow any to risk it. He was there the first days and knows what is at risk.” Amadagu had taken the general by the shoulders and now looked directly into his eyes.

“What of me? They will want retribution against the Ministry.” Nohric questioned.

“You will have them prepare, stand ready and rebuild. In the end you will serve your nephews. Delva is corrupt of heart and the people will never love him or trust him. His sons will be beloved and in that, hope resides.” The druid responded.

His head began to swim, everything returned to being blurry. “But what of the seers and the prophecy? Even the things you have told us.”

“Follow the heart tempered by the mind and you will understand.”

****

“He is starting to reject certain images.” A female voice stated concern deep in her words.

Another voice responded deep and resounding voice, “Then he has become useless to us.”

“No not useless.” The female voice responded quickly. “So much and so many years have gone into this. We only find that much resistance when it involves his family a few places... There are other ways”

“Stay away from the family and those places then.”

“No, we have need there too many details would be overlooked. I have to probe and find what specifically causes this reaction and stay away from those.”

“If you push too much, he will awaken before the time.” The male voice dropped into a whisper. “Should we talk in front of him?”

The female laughed lightly in response. “No, it is perfectly safe. There are words and triggers set that render any such outside conversation as noise and prattle.”

“What of his bro…..” The male voice was stopped abruptly.

The woman responded quickly. “Even from very early on, he reacts in violent backlash when I have attempted that subject. Too close of a tie to the core of him.”

“How does he react to the prophecy? That is rather key in all of this.” Again the man’s voice returned to a normal tone.

“That is the easiest part of all. Each image is taken in with out any pulsing of his will. I would almost say he readily feeds on it. Even when I mention the Timewalker I sense no pulse and no reaction, just acceptance.” The smile on her lips passed heavily onto her voice.

“Then perhaps we can push more of it?”

“Maybe, a delicate balance has to be maintained. Overall the different images have to be cohesive. Not necessarily strong and iron clad, just enough to be believed as a whole.” She responded with pride. “Just a while longer and he will prove the… our prophecy true.”

“Our rewards will be great as She returns to us.” Jubilation rang strong in his statement.

****

But he had heard them, every word as if they came through a long distance away and merely haunted his ears. Still it was far away, but he knew deep within him they were filling his mind with images and memories day after day. His only reprieve came at night when new images filled his head, not from them but from a much kinder source.

“You really need to stop this.” He had heard this voice before; always at night with more images. In fact over the countless years that seemed to pass by so very slowly, the voice had come to him often. Aged, strong and full of knowledge, the boy felt a calm come over him whenever it visited.

“I have tried, I don’t know how.” The boy answered meekly. He had struggled time and time again to stop all that he saw and heard. He had known before the new image of his Uncle Nohric and Amadagu filled him what he saw about the pass wasn’t true. Yet his eyes would see nothing but the images he had no control over. Something in him wanted to fight, but it simply wouldn’t come to the surface.

He was frightened by it. Too much pain followed too much struggle. It never stopped him from trying again, but it quickly put his efforts to rest. Always just a bit more rest was needed. In fact many times he called out for someone anyone to hear him. Whether it actually made it from his lips, he couldn’t tell, everything was such a blur of pain and torment. The name of Xhuri came to him and at first he desperately called out to that name for help aid or something, anything to end the pain. Finally as the days then weeks then months passed by to the point he was sure several years had passed, he cursed that name. Something inside told him it was wrong, but he didn’t care anymore. No thing, no name, no creature could allow so much pain if they had a way to stop it. And thus evidently that name had no way to stop it. As such, there was no more reason for it. That name fell no more from his lips or upon his ears or a thought in his head. When it wanted to creep up, he simply shoved it back down.

“It is not a matter of knowing boy; it’s a matter of doing. You simply have to want to. You do want to don’t you?” The kind voice questioned.

The boy stopped. His mind stopped for a moment as he took in the question. Did he want it to stop? What would happen if he did? What was out there beyond this? The question was a trick it had to be. He had asked that before hadn’t he? And when he brought it to words he was awash with pain and torment. To request anything was wrong, it was selfish and cruel to ask for something of him, wasn’t it? Surely it was they had told him so. He was suffering so others would not. Wasn’t that noble and wasn’t he noble for doing such?

“No I don’t want to. This is what I must do.” He answered, pride swelling in his chest yet the words didn’t ring true to him.

“Ahh. And that is why you haven’t. One must want a thing before one can accomplish a thing.” There was sadness in the calming voice that made the boy want to cry. From the corners of his eyes the boy felt the wetness fall as tingles of sensation filled his face. “What of your brother?”

Rage filled him instantly. From deep within the name exploded forth. “KELVA!” He screamed out as he became aware of more and more tears falling from his face. He became aware of the sensation of his fingers digging into his palms as his fists clenched tightly. Warmth oozed from his fingertips as blood from his finger nails piercing his skin created tiny pools of blood that spilled over his knuckles an onto the floor.

“Would he want this from you? Would Kelva want you to do this?” The calm voice pushed more.

“I would suffer this for eternity so that he would not have to. That is my life that is my purpose.” The boy answered viscously as he began to fight back the tears and rage that continued to fill him. “That is enough.”

Still pushing the voice continued, “I didn’t ask if it was enough. I didn’t ask for the purpose. I asked if he would want this from you.”

The boy knew the answer. It bubbled and churned inside him like a massive wave. He could remember as a very young boy playing with his brother, sharing dreams and desires. Even when they were in trouble each felt the pain as the other was punished, no matter how light the punishment was. Surely as any siblings they would tease and walk the line of getting the other in trouble, but never in severity and never did they let each other stand alone. No, this is not what his brother would want. But more importantly he would never want this for his brother. So for this he would endure, he would hold out and he would continue. Sometimes what his brother wanted was simply not what was best for him. Yet the word was there, in his mouth fighting to press it beyond his lips. Formed cold and true his mind wanted one answer and his heart wanted another.

As if the calm voice could hear his inner turmoil it commented. “The wise use their heart, tempered by reason to find the answer that is correct and true.”

“NO!” He blurted out. “No he would not want this.”

“Then my boy, we have a start. You hold onto that and you remember it. Think on that point, dwell on it and let it temper your heart. Then perhaps you will find the want you so terribly desire. Always remember, you did nothing wrong boy; nothing wrong at all.”

Cut deeply by those words the boy curled up into a ball and wept until he finally fell into a deep sleep.




In the vast darkness while the night lay cold around him, the message was understood. Parts of his mind snapped awake and understood even though his mind looked to preserve him from the pain that immediately washed over him. Opening his eyes he saw the small room he was in. The bed of straw covered with rat urine and smelled of a combination of the rats and his unwashed young body stench. Harsh cold stone against his heel offered only pain from his foot that lay against it. His clothing was tattered beyond the point of rags and refuse covered in dirt and grime unfit for any creature. There was nothing else in the room. No, not a room, this was a cell and he was a prisoner. His fingernails, long and dirty, were also pointed and thick. Carefully, just within the door he began to scratch out the letters. Without thinking he spelled out a name, then a phrase.

‘Narvakhan, Chosen of Xhuri.’

For several moments he looked at it and took it all in. For a brief moment everything became clear. Everything he saw in his head he no longer trusted. She had done this. Ahryn had done this. Ahryn would pay. As the words echoed his mind, crushing pain filled him causing him to retreat. The retreat was easy, but this time, slowly and carefully the boy put up several mental blocks so he wouldn’t forget. Yes, he retreated, but even in his retreat he would remember.