Once Forgotten 2.6

Ugh...I'm not that pleased with this one...I feel like I got a little off track. Should I edit? I don't know yet.

I am pleased with the end, however. The great enemy is finally named!
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Brint walked at the head of the men assigned to him, Rya beside him. Every now and then, he would catch snatches of whispered conversations. From what he gathered, the soldiers held Rya in a state of awe, fear, and not a little resentment. To them, she was an upstart, to be feared and watched for any unusual signs. He sighed. The Freedomists may have had the same goal as the Overseers, but they failed to fully understand. He had just about given up trying to convince the Council to work fully with Kadrin and his companions. They readily accepted Flamian and Dylan, as they were already well known as warriors. Everyone knew that just because Dylan was an advocator of peace she wouldn't fight. And then there was Flamian. Even before his involvement with Queen Dylan, he was a renowned warrior. A Hunter for the Drax, the ruling class of the mighty draigons. He had suffered much, having his soul torn from him, stripped of all his might to live life as a human. Yet now, he was once again the feared Hunter. Dylan had started out reluctant, more inclined to run than fight. Flamian had taught her, guided her, and had shown her how to make a stand. The result was a warrior queen willing to do whatever it took to regain her throne.

To Brint, it made perfect sense that they were Overseers, even though they had only recently discovered their identities as such. The Council had begrudgingly accepted that view as well. Yet it was so much more difficult for them to accept two elderly men, each having a few centuries under their belts, and even harder to accept a figure who was borderline myth. To them, Kadrin was a ghost, a wraith, a spirit that refused to move on. Just how old he was, none knew but he himself, and so far, he had never divulged such information. Hardly anything was truly known about him at all.

Then there was Nadar. The man had simply appeared one day, seemingly out of nowhere, yet with a head full of knowledge. Or nonsense as a large mass thought. Yet he was even more mysterious than Kadrin. He seemed to know just as much, or even more. He would advise people, guide them along a certain path, then simply vanish within a minute. Could he be Nadarin?

Brint shook his head. Too obvious, wasn't he? Rya's cry of pain broke through his thoughts. The whole company halted as she sank to her knees, her back arching into the air. Brint threw himself down beside her.

"Rya! Are you alright?!" He asked, concern seeping into his voice. "Where's the healer?!" He demanded of his men.

Rya shook her head as she fully collapsed. "I-I…I'm fine." She gasped. "I-It was just a brief spasm." She lay curled in a ball, gasping with pain. She smiled up at him weakly. "It's passed now, whatever it was." She grabbed her scythe and hauled herself to her feet. Brint couldn't help but notice her slight grimace, how her jaw clenched as she straightened herself into a fully erect position. "We best move out. If it is a M'rachtkenta that is attacking the Rising Sun, then we need to hurry."

Brint kept a close eye on his friend. She walked with a determination, her pain apparently forgotten. She had no other outbreaks the rest of that day, and she slept peacefully. Dawn came the next morning, and they continued on to their destination. A day later, they arrived at the town where it had been arranged for them to get transport. Rya gazed in wonder at the rare contraption before them. It was an LG, which stood for Land Glider. It appeared as a stone structure with a rectangular shape, yet it was rounded. She needed no explanation as to why. Very few knew what aerodynamics were, but she had been tutored by some of the most intelligent minds of the Realm. Besides, a few scientists were even trying to develop a machine that could fly. She couldn't help but scoff at their attempts. But still…she couldn't help but wonder what type of wonders was built before the Sealing. The LG had been found, not built. Could it be a relic from that now forgotten age? Kadrin had admitted that the machines had not been destroyed, but rather hidden. As though they knew magyck would be released…

A brief burning along her back shattered her thoughts. She clenched her teeth and waited for it to pass, hoping Brint wouldn't notice. To her great fortune, it passed by the time he came and sat next to her. He raised an eyebrow, but she simply smiled and turned to stare out a viewport. LGs were incredibly convenient for traveling long distance, yet they needed twenty four hours to gain enough energy to move twelve leagues, a week or more of walking. And the Kingdom of the Rising Sun was a lot more than twelve leagues away. They would be passing through Quinland, where the majority of the food for the whole of the Six Nations was grown.

Quinland was farmed by the gentle Caladorian people. They were a race of humanoids, yet they had the features of what some called horses. She had never seen an actual horse, as they had gone extinct eons ago, yet she had met several Caladorians. They stood much taller than humans, which had unnerved her at first, but they were one of the gentlest of races. As a farming nation, they primarily worshipped Darlan as their patron.

With a twinge of guilt, she sent a silent prayer to Sanshi. As the Goddess of Protection as her patron, Salcar welcomed refugees of all sorts, offering safety to the oppressed and innocent. Although this caused some dissention with other nations, they were never openly attacked due to the alliance with the Six Nations. Yet they too had suffered during the Calrian War. Calrius' rebellion had caused much chaos and destruction for not only the Six Nations, the draigons, who had waged a savage civil war, but Salcar had also greatly suffered. They had had to fight on three fronts. Calrius from the west, Calima to the east, with the small kingdom of Dalgra to the south. Somehow, Salcar had survived, but not without its casualties…

She watched as the ground flashed by beneath them. It was rather funny; it seemed like the ground was moving, not them. Beside her, Brint was in deep discussion with one of his comrades. They were in argument over some tactic or something. She didn't bother to pay attention to it.

"You are, or rather were, the princess of Salcar, no?" An accented voice asked beside her. She turned to see a female Katar. --AU: For those that are not familiar with them, they resemble humanoid cats:-- Rya nodded. "I thought as much. I met you once. Yes, about a year ago, yes? A strong people are you from. Mighty warriors. The Katar have always admired you."

Rya nodded, rather surprised. "Uh, thank you, I suppose. I always thought the Katars admired only themselves? No offense." She added.

The Katar chuckled. "None taken, young great one. My people is indeed a proud people, but we also know whom to respect. Long ago, the Jilds, our long term enemies, tried to take our land from us. Those jackals nearly succeeded. Then the wolves came. Led by the Ulfrics, they brought us peace. The draigons, who had watched from the shadows for centuries, finally showed themselves. They fought against the wolves, claiming this land as their ancient and sacred land. They claimed that Alacandis himself had granted them this land. The wolves were adamant, saying that the Great Mandar had declared them free to take whichever land they chose. The two sides fought, with the draigons gaining a quick advantage. After many years, the King of the Wolves, the High Ulfric himself, called forth the leaders of both sides. Together, they sat and made a pact, a treaty. The result was magnificent. Both my people and the Jilds had both paid tribute to the mighty draigons for the use of their land, and we had both pleaded with the wolves to do the same.

"They finally did. The draigons were appeased and allowed the wolves to build their empire, which expanded to engulf five other kingdoms, forming what is now the Six Nations. Even today, we still pay tribute to the draigons. In exchange, they provide us with military support, and they police our land, maintaining the peace." The Katar cocked her head. "I am wondering if you already heard our history? You have study our culture, yes?"

Rya smiled and shook her head. "Not nearly as much as I would have liked. Although, as an Overseer, I certainly shall be learning everything I did not get the chance to as a princess."

The female Katar nodded. "That is a blessing, yes, but a burden as well, no? I saw you at the camp. You took down a strong gorbac tree with one slice. Certainly, you have been touched with power. Perhaps even more than you think, yes?" Hear she lowered her voice, so only Rya could hear. "You had another spasm, when you first boarded. It started recently, no?"

Rya nodded. "A few days ago. Actually…I've felt strange every since…" The Katar waited patiently as she formed her thoughts. "It all started after I was attacked by a demon. Brint and Kadrin said it was called the Mauler. He's out there now, stalking me. Our use of the LG won't hinder him. He's…different from the other demons."

"The M'rachtkenta are growing stronger, Rya Windseer." The Katar said grimly. "Yes, I know of them, know the truth as you do. Relax, you have nothing to fear. I belong to a sect of priests. Warrior priests. We are called the Order of Nadarin. He is our patron. Just as he works from the shadows, maintaining the balance of things, so too do we. That is, we do what we can. Yes, young Rya, we wish to see him restored. If the Great Demon is released, we shall all perish. He wishes to remake the world in his own image, twisted, malignant." She paused. "Ah! Forgive my utter rudeness! I am called Alda."

Rya frowned. As she reached out with her mind, she began to hear something. It was inaudible to her ears, yet she knew she could hear it. Trust her. She speaks truth. Her eyes widened and she gave a laugh. "The wind! I can hear the wind!" She exclaimed. Everyone around her stopped talking, staring at her with various expressions of incredulity, shock, and laughter.

"This unit is sealed tight. There's no way you can hear the wind in here!" One soldier mocked.

Rya shook her head. "Not like that! I meant I can hear its voice!" She gave a sigh of satisfaction.

A soldier nudged his friend. "She's gone off the deep end into madness. I knew the 'Overseers' were all just a bunch of adics!" He whispered.

Rya turned to him. "Would you care to say that for all to hear?" She smiled at his expression. "I told you, the wind has a voice of its own. Eventually, it hears all secrets. As the Windseer, I've grown strong enough to hear it." She settled back down, saying no more. Slowly, they all went back about their business, their talk mostly about her. Rya shrugged and smiled at Alda. "Terribly sorry about that."

The Katar shook her head and chuckled. "There is no need for apology when one has a revelation." She grew serious. "Regardless, you must be careful, Rya. Your friend, Careen, is dealing with our enemy. I'm afraid she's fallen in with the Seekers of Truth."

Rya frowned. "I thought they were priests of the Gods?"

Alda shook her head. "No. They are not. The Seekers of Truth portray themselves as being pure and in the light, but they are advocators of the Great Darkness that even now seeps more and more into our land. Thyninairnn cannot take much more. You know what will happen once the balance has been tipped too far."

"The Seekers of Truth…I bet they're the ones who rewrote the Book." The Katar nodded in agreement. Rya stiffened. "She's here. Among us." Alda began to scan the crowd, but Rya stopped her. "No. She's alone. We will watch her, but not take action. Perhaps she will be persuaded otherwise?"

Alda's eyes widened. "You intend to show her what the M'rachtkenta actually are?!" She exclaimed quietly.

Rya nodded. "My master, Kadrin, did the same. I killed Maldis. I can kill another one if I had to. I just…I am learning what my master was trying to teach me."

The Katar nodded slowly. She frowned as Rya stretched her shoulders. "You are in pain, yes?"

Rya nodded. "It's manageable." They lapsed into silence as the land glider continued on.

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Upon the high seas, Gartrand sat within his cabin, poring over an old volume, determined on learning all he could about the land he and Lirand were heading to. Lirand, on the other hand, continually walked about the ship. If it could be called such.

Lirand approached the captain, completely at ease being on the sea, yet completely unsettled by the ship he was on. "How much farther is it?"

The captain turned to him. "It be but four days' sailin' now, sire. From the werd I 'ear, there be much trouble brewin'. Ye'll have yer work cut for ye, sire."

Lirand sighed. "Is there any way we can get there sooner?"

The captain scratched his beard. "Only if ye be the Windseer."

"Afraid not there. I control Light, not Wind." Lirand sighed.

The captain nodded. "A pity. Not that ye don' have an important role, sire."

Lirand nodded and walked off. He made his way down below. "Four days!" He said, barging into Gartrand's cabin.

"Yes, that sounds about right." Gartrand said without looking up. "And you really haven't changed a bit! As High Wizard and rubbish, not once did you ever leave Jastire?!"

Lirand sighed again. "Is that really important or relevant right now?"

Gartrand scoffed. "I at least went to Calrin. The Old 'Maid is the best place for good info."

Lirand rolled his eyes. "And is also filled with all the scum of this world."

Gartrand snapped his book shut. "Even within them is there some residual good! Not all of them are the hopeless wretches you always make them out to be!"

"They reek of Dark." Lirand shrugged. "Have you any idea what that is?" He waved the copy of The Book of the Damned.

Gartrand snatched it away. "Of course I do! I'm no fool. Yet I choose to recognize the good that remains!"

"Good? What good is there? With that traitor out there, there is no good! Nothing to keep back the overwhelming darken…" A fist silenced him.

Gartrand kept his hand in a fist. "Stop sniveling and actually be the man you are supposed to be. We are all stressed to the breaking point because of the imbalance, but that gives no excuse to be imbeciles. Now, you are going to get up and act your age."

Lirand climbed to his feet. "Th-Thank you. We need to kick the tar out of that M'rachtkenta."

Gartrand clasped his shoulders. "That's more like it!" With that, he went back to his book.

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The cold north wind blew about; its harshness all but lost upon the figure walking through it. Kadrin paused, his cloak billowing about him. He spread his arms, basking in the wild glory of the harsh blizzard. A weary reminiscence fell upon him, memories beginning to stir. He let his arms fall to his side and continued on.

Before him loomed the Keep. A crystal labyrinth of passageways that descended for miles beneath the ground. And the resting place of something he had spent centuries looking for. Without hesitation, he entered into the only entrance.

"So, you've decided to come? It has been…quite some time. Hasn't it, Kadrin?" A voice called out. The young man that stepped from the shadows was anything but young. Power seemed to curl about him. His silver hair was shoulder length. Cold eyes surveyed his old enemy.

"How unpleasant as ever. Salazar." Kadrin responded.

Salazar paced the chamber. "Did you think that I would simply let you have it?"

"No." Kadrin said. He clapped his hands, summoning his sword. Power quivered in the air as Salazar fashioned a sword of his own.

He held up the black sword. "Like it? My Master granted it to me."

Kadrin chuckled. "You think I fear a weapon forged from Demon metal?" Soulcleaver gleamed with a strange light. A white light shone between the two blades, connecting them. The blade whistled a deadly tune as he twirled in preparation.

"It's time you died, Kadrin. You have grown to much a nuisance to let live." Salazar said. With a cry, he sprang at his old adversary. Kadrin leapt back, swinging up to meet his enemy's downward slash. The two blades met with a shockwave, the ice cracking about them. Salazar held on with both hands; Kadrin stood with one arm raised. The two swords clanged and crashed as their wielders sought the end of the other.

One clash sent them both stumbling back a step. Salazar clenched his teeth in a sneer. "You can't beat me, Kadrin. Not now. Not when I have the power of true Gods!" He leapt at him again. Kadrin threw out an empty palm, catching his opponent in the gut. He drew back and spun, throwing his leg in a powerful kick. Salazar crashed into the already cracked ice, sending him smashing down to the next level. With ease, Kadrin leapt down, landing lightly on his feet.

"The power of Gods? Please. Their power has no meaning to me." Kadrin said. Salazar picked himself up, raising the black sword before him. With a snarl, he threw himself forward.

Kadrin met him halfway, slamming a fist into his shoulder. Their swords clanged again, the cracks in the ice spreading. "At this rate, we will end up at the place you're trying to keep me from."

Salazar smiled wickedly. "Perhaps, but you'll be dead once we hit the bottom."

Kadrin parried and attacked. "We'll see." He grabbed Salazar's arm throwing him around. However, Salazar used his weight, throwing Kadrin into the wall. The ice shattered in a shower of shards.