Chapter 10: Child of Winter
On the following day, the Squires said little to each other, with Lannon and Vorden spending most of their time meditating on healing their minor injuries inflicted by the Ogre. By using that Knightly healing technique, which was drawn from the power locked within their own minds rather than from any type of sorcery, they were able to make the injuries fade very quickly.
Later, Garrin joined them for dinner in the Hall, and they had to struggle to act natural around him--something Vorden excelled at, while Lannon and Timlin seemed rigid and quiet. But Garrin appeared to take little notice of them, as he was busy chatting with some of the other Squires--except at one point when he looked up, gave them a strange, piercing stare that made their hearts lurch, and then resumed his conversations. They gulped down dinner and headed back to their room.
When training began the next day, Lannon and Timlin felt fine, but Vorden was still a bit sore in the ribs--indicating the damage had been more severe than he'd thought. But he was able to compensate for it and give a fair effort. At one point Cartlan asked about the small bump and cut on Lannon's head (barely noticeable though it was) and Lannon replied that he'd suffered an accident and left it at that. Cartlan didn't press the issue, and by the end of the day, things looked like they would turn out fine.
But Lannon had another issue to deal with. He'd unlocked the Eye of Divinity and was supposed to tell Garrin immediately. Yet because their ordeal in Old Keep was so fresh in his mind, he decided to wait until he was sure he could trust himself to look Garrin in the eye and not blurt out what had happened in the mines. Also, it had taken him this long to accomplish the task, and so what would another few days matter? Besides, he hadn't actually done it on his own. He thought maybe he should wait until he could call it forth by himself before telling Garrin.
But after only a week, to Lannon's disbelief, Vorden again began pressuring him to break the rules. It was evening, their training done for the day, and they were in the Library seated at a table. The Library was a round chamber that was modeled, according to a plaque on the wall, after the famous Round Library of the North Tower. The bookshelves completely covered the walls, all the way up to the ceiling. Statues of Knights, Dragons, and Goblins stood within, big and small--with some holding books or leering down from the shelves. There was a stone fireplace with wood stacked next to it, and four Birlote torches on the walls. The only other door (besides the main entrance) bore a wooden sign that said:
OLD EAST LIBRARY.
NO ONE MAY ENTER WITHOUT PERMISSION FROM
THE EAST TOWER MASTER
Timlin was humming to himself in his annoying fashion, and looking at a book of artwork depicting Lord Knights throughout the ages. Lannon was reading a book from the library called Fairy Goblins--Do They Exist? written by a former Lord Knight named Eldrich Hawkshield. Vorden had an ancient, leather-bound book in front of him called The Dragons of Tharnin, which he had not yet opened.
"I have an idea," Vorden said suddenly. He looked around, making sure the library was empty of eavesdroppers, and then continued. "I think I know how we could see the Divine Essence." He spoke casually, as if talking about the day's weather.
Lannon's mouth hung open for a moment. Then he shook his head, his face flushing crimson with anger. "Vorden, what are you talking about? After what I went through in those mines, you think I'd be stupid enough to follow you anywhere again?" He closed his book and laid it on the table.
"I'm sorry about that," said Vorden. "And I take all the blame, Lannon. I could have gotten us killed, or ruined our chance at Knighthood. It was a really stupid thing to do. And do you know why it was stupid? Because I should have asked around first, researched the issue a bit. Well, I've done that, and guess what? I think I know an easy way to get to the Divine Essence."
"I don't care!" Lannon said. "Whatever you have in mind, forget it. After what I saw in those mines..."
"We don't have to go into the mines," said Vorden. "I've learned that the way to the Essence is through the Temple itself. There's a passage right under the altar that leads down to a wheel lock. Beyond that locked door is the crystal chamber."
"Well, go ahead and find out," said Lannon. "But I'm not going." He stared back at Vorden with determination. This was a moment he had dreaded--having to say no to his friend. But he'd decided never to back down from anyone again if his future Knighthood was at stake. He imagined Cordus Landsaver nodding with approval at his decision, and he held fast to that image, drawing strength from it.
Vorden sighed. "You know I can't open a wheel lock, Lannon. If you don't go with me, I have to give up."
"Maybe you should give up," said Lannon. "You're good at a lot of things, Vorden. You could be a great Knight. Don't waste it chasing a foolish dream."
Vorden's face burned with anger. "So the Divine Essence is just a foolish dream? Maybe to you it is. But to me it means everything."
Lannon gulped, and glanced towards the door. "Don't talk so loud. Someone might be coming. Anyways, I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that there's a reason we're not allowed to see the Essence. Even Master Garrin has never seen it. We shouldn't break rules we don't understand."
"But others besides Lord Knights have seen it," said Vorden. "And I can prove it right here and now."
"It's getting late," said Lannon. "We should head to our quarters. I'm supposed to be doing my Eye of Divinity training."
"Hold on" Vorden said. "This will just take a moment. Timlin, go stand by the doorway and watch for anyone in the hall."
Timlin rose and did as he was told, peeking around the doorway. "It's all clear, Vorden," he said.
Vorden opened the book in front of him and leafed through the pages. Then he began to read aloud.
So it was that I, Logan Firehand, broke the Sacred Laws and ventured forth to that chamber that holds the Divine One. I bear the Eye of Dreams, and I have become the seeker of lost relics. In one shining moment, I solved the wheel lock below the Temple's altar and made it to the chamber of crystal.
The Divine One was more beautiful than the light that warms our world each morning, and my heart was seemingly cleansed of all shadow--save for my deep desire to obtain the ultimate source of power that lies within those cursed hills. I was shown how to use my gift, how to reach my true potential. And I was warned to make use of that gift for noble purposes or pay a dreadful price.
Am I then a selfish man? An ignorer of gods? Will I eventually pay dearly for my folly? I cannot truly say if I am on the proper path. It is said that to meddle with the Deep Shadow is to invite doom into the heart and madness into the mind. Yet I have done so, and my sanity appears to remain intact.
The real question is whether or not I am using my gift in a noble fashion.
I believe the seeking of facts is indeed a noble task, for all of humanity benefits from the results in one form or another. However, shadows of doubt remain.
Here, in the first of seven books, I shall attempt to reveal the workings of the Dark Realm of Tharnin (that hated place called the Deep Shadow) beginning with the Dragons, for they, widely considered the most powerful of all Goblins, represent the Hand of Tharnin, which crushes life...
Vorden stopped reading and closed the book. "Okay, so you get the point. This Knight broke the rules and visited the Essence. And it helped him. So it could probably help you, too, Lannon. It might even teach you about the Eye of Divinity."
Lannon sat in silence. Had the Divine Essence actually spoken to that Knight and given him assistance? Was it simply a matter of sneaking down through the Temple to the crystal chamber? He glanced about. The Goblin statues seemed to leer at him in accusation, as if they were judging him--as if the books they held were tomes of law. He suddenly felt like he was being watched, and goose bumps flooded his back. He quickly turned his attention back to Vorden.
"Where did you get that book?" Lannon asked. "It doesn't seem like the Knights would want anyone to know about that."
"I borrowed it from in there," said Vorden, pointing toward the door marked Old East Library. "I picked the lock yesterday and poked around in there. Its full of old, dusty books that look pretty boring. This one mentioned Dragons, so I glanced through it and found that part I just read to you."
Lannon glanced around nervously. "Put it back," he said. "If someone comes along and sees it..."
"That's what Timlin is watching for," said Vorden "But even if I'm caught with this, I'll just say I found it on the shelves in here. Who can prove otherwise? How would they know I'm the one that moved it from the Old Library?"
"What has happened to you?" said Lannon. "When I first got here, you talked about wanting to be like Kuran Darkender and live honorably. But now look at the things you're doing, Vorden. You're going to end up getting tossed out."
Vorden sighed. "It's the Divine Essence, Lannon. I just can't stop thinking about it. And I'm not the only one. Aldreya told me she dreamt of it too. She wanted to know when I was going to try to find it again, so she could come with me. She told me she believes the Essence is calling to her, that it will teach her to unlock her full potential. She practically begged me to accompany her on a quest to find it!"
Lannon's eyes widened. "You must be kidding."
Vorden shook his head. "I can't believe it either. I thought she'd never want to hang around with us again."
"But what if she's setting us up?" said Lannon.
"She isn't," said Vorden. "I'm certain of it. She might be a bit of a snob, but right now she's pretty desperate. You should have seen the look in her eyes! There's no way she would tell on us. I think she's afraid of what's happening here at Dremlock, Lannon."
"So am I," Lannon admitted. "Every day I hear something new about how bad off Dremlock is--usually from you."
"Sorry," said Vorden. "I just like to keep you informed."
"I know," said Lannon. "And I'm glad you do. I just never expected this. I grew up believing Dremlock was the best place in all the land. It's still kind of like that, but there are a lot of problems here, I guess. It's hard to explain."
"I know exactly what you're talking about," said Vorden. "I expected shining towers and honorable Knights--white horses and good deeds, that sort of thing. I visited Bellis when I was younger, before my parents died. We were passing through on our way to Silverland. And you know what? That's exactly how Bellis is--like the grand kingdom you would always imagine. So I thought Dremlock would be even better. But it has a dark side to it, and I can't help but wonder if this place has seen better days."
"Yeah, it's definitely going sour," said a boy.
Lannon and Vorden jumped up, looking around. Someone was hiding behind a Goblin statue, with just the edge of his brown cloak visible.
"Who's there?" Vorden said. The lad from Gravendar had gone pale.
Out from behind the statue stepped a tall boy with bright blond hair, fair skin, and blue eyes. It was Jerret Dragonsbane, the Red Squire Lannon and Timlin had met very briefly outside the Temple on the first day they'd visited there with Garrin.
From behind another statue stepped a big, dark-haired lad. He had a pointy chin and a hook nose, and also wore a red sash. They recognized him as Clayith Ironback, a quiet Squire who was usually somewhat of a loner.
"What are you two doing here?" Vorden said. "Shouldn't you be in the West Tower this time of the evening?"
"We came to look at some books," said Jerret. "It was Clayith's idea, actually. He wanted to read about potions or poisons or something. Anyways, we heard you guys coming, so we ducked behind those statues to eavesdrop on you."
Clayith gave a crooked grin. "Yeah, we wanted to eavesdrop."
"Well, what of it?" said Vorden. "Now I guess you know we're up to something. So what are you going to do about it?"
Jerret shook his head and smiled. "Nothing, Vorden. I couldn't care less what you do--except that I'd like to get in on it. If you're actually going try to get a look at the Divine Essence, count me in."
"And me, too," said Clayith, still giving an odd grin.
Vorden was thoughtful for a moment. "You're a good friend, Jerret. And Clayith's alright, I guess."
"I wouldn't tell on you," said Clayith, with a chuckle. His grin broadened. "I like you, Vorden."
Vorden laughed. "I'll think it over, and let you know later."
"Vorden, I already told you..." said Lannon. His words sounded weak, and he knew his resolve had crumbled some. But if he ended up agreeing to go, the thought of taking two more Squires along did not please him at all. He could trust Vorden and Timlin, and possibly even Aldreya, yet he knew little about these two Squires--especially Jerret, who seemed somewhat cocky and was hard to figure out. Clayith, however, had always struck Lannon as being exceptionally polite, kind-hearted, and shy. Lannon had liked him from the first moment he'd met him at the training grounds. Yet could he be trusted? There was no way of knowing at this time.
"At least consider it, Lannon," said Vorden. "You know we can't do this without you--if there is actually a wheel lock down there. So if you don't go, the whole thing is done with. I want to go, and so do Jerret, Clayith, and Aldreya."
"And me!" whispered Timlin, from the doorway. "From what you said, it doesn't sound very dangerous--if it's just beneath the Temple."
"We'll see," Lannon said reluctantly. Again he glanced about, still feeling like they were being watched. Here they were, in the Library, discussing a plan to violate the Sacred Laws--with two more Squires eager to jump in on the action. The whole situation seemed very risky and ready to blow up in their faces. Couldn't Vorden see that, or had his desire to visit the Divine Essence become so strong it had clouded his judgment?
"We can talk about it tomorrow," mumbled Lannon, experiencing a deep urge to get away from this scene. "But don't get your hopes up, Vorden."
With that, Lannon left the library and headed upstairs. As he passed through the shadowy halls, a deep sadness and anxiety filled him. What had happened to his dreams of being a valiant Knight in a grand kingdom? Where was the nobility and the glory? He'd been here less than a year, and already he'd become a law-breaker in a kingdom where things seemed to be falling apart (if one could believe the countless rumors). He felt isolated and detached, floating free and lacking direction. He had always imagined Dremlock would be a place where everything was in solid order, where everyone knew where they stood and laws and rules were set in stone. Now he was seeing a place where the darkness and light seemed melded together, where devious plots were hatched while Knights were too busy or too reluctant to take notice. It disturbed him to think of what they had gotten away with so easily already. What else was going on here that went unnoticed by the Tower Masters? Just how deeply had Dremlock decayed?
The answer seemed to come to him later that night in a dream. He dreamt of the kingdom, and it appeared Dremlock was balanced on the edge of a dagger, with the flames of doom burning on either side. The wind howled down the mountainside, bringing winter's breath and blowing it into his soul. The snow became as thick as the Northern Hills, and shards of ice the size of continents shifted about, changing the face of the land. The ice became unstable, cracking and lurching, creating pockets deep within the stone, earth, snow, and mossy ruin. From out of that ice came a shadowy hand, reaching out over the land and growing ever larger.
"I am the Child of Winter," a voice said. "I lived even before the world was warmed, when nothing existed but the timeless ice."
For a moment Lannon was helpless within that grasp. All the struggles of life seemed pointless, and he longed for things to return to the purity and timelessness of before which the voice spoke of. Then the infinite darkness swallowed him and he realized the Shadow was indeed deeper than he could have ever imagined, even deeper than despair itself. There could be no return from such a void.
Eyes appeared in the darkness, crazed and piercing, burning into his soul. The eyes seemed all too familiar, and then he remembered the statue upon the hilltop, amid
the ruins of Serenlock Castle. They were the eyes of Tenneth Bard, the Black Knight. A hand, bound in a steel gauntlet, reached forth to claim Lannon's soul.
"I've come for you, Lannon," Tenneth Bard whispered. "Soon you will wish you had died down there in Old Keep."