Sons of Ironstorm - Book 4: Griffon's Stand

Chapter 14: Covenant Rediscovered

"Into the wilderness they went, in search of their souls' heart.

Pain and travail they found, sore testing to the end of limits.

Broken by shadow, thwarted by evil, onward they went.

Until at the fullness of darkness, their souls' heart returned

And renewed all covenants and promises made."

- author unknown, Age of the Wielders 

Patrik grimaced as, with a thud, his back hit the stone wall behind him. Then a sharp punch to the chest was sending a flare through his body despite his Wielder strength and endurance.

"Blessed Seas, Jaeda, what's your problem?" he asked hoarsely, rubbing at where the lithe young woman had hit him. Wasn't she just trying to hug and kiss him a moment ago?

"You, kevan," the fiery desert princess hissed, her tone hard as she stared at him after taking a step back. Yet, as she spoke, tears streamed down her face. For a people used to hoarding every available drop of water in the parched lands of the Scattered Kingdoms, tears were a sign of the true storm that was seething just beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions that was barely being contained.

"In one moment, you were the Wielder of the Earth, a creature of legend, a being of power," she continued in a low voice, fighting to contain that storm that threatened to burst forth with the wrong word or gesture. "Single-handedly you kept a horde of shadow and fire at bay like the desert warriors of old. Then in the next, you were gone like a darting sirocco, abandoning us all to our fates."

"I didn't abandon you ..." Patrik began to retort, only to get a punch to the arm.

"You left us, kevan!" she hissed tautly, one of her daggers suddenly in a hand. A dagger that quickly became a point of interest as the fiery desert rogue began using it to put emphasis behind her words.

"We, who had followed you across desert and jungle against all reason. Followed you to the black cone of a volcanic fortress and fought shadow elves to keep your quest alive. Followed you to this place where death and water stalk us both. In the midst of battle, you left us!" A ripple of emotion then washed across her beautiful face.

"You left me."

Patrik stopped the next retort that was on his lips, his mind working furiously as he realized what this conversation was really about. It wasn't about fighting the tjor'riin, or the demons that came after. It wasn't even about him bringing Gorgon's Dagger back to life in the middle of that battle or being captured by the Abysslords.

It was about the fact that nobody knew what he was doing even as he did it. Not even Jaeda, who after saving him from deadly footpads had sided with him from the very beginning, even against the word of her druidic adviser. So, her perspective, and probably Charon's, Inureah's, Morningwhisper's and everybody else that had marched in company with them as well, he had abandoned them. And in the midst of a battle where Death had marked each one of them personally.

Seeing the hurt and anger burning in Jaeda's eyes, the young Wielder knew there was only one thing he could now do. He needed to apologize. But, before the words could begin forming in his mouth, his hand brushed against the wall behind him and, in the now familiar twisting of sensation and color, he was thrust into yet another vision.

Unlike the others, however, this one didn't immediately leap into his mind with startling clarity. Instead he found himself looking into a blur of faded color and barely identifiable motion.