Chapter 6
"My Dear Jaryd,
I thank you for reading this letter. It is, in very real part, my confession of crimes long since committed. Some might say this is not necessary for, if you are reading this, the Midnight King has been defeated and I am dead. Some would say it is enough, that that is all one needs to know.
But I do not agree.
If a man is to be known, then let him fully be known in all parts; good and bad, light and dark. These make up a man, for no man is pure save the Maker; we are all a mix of both;good and bad, Ligh and Dark, and must choose everyday which side we shall serve. While I have sought to serve the Maker for many long centuries, there is the harsh truth that there came a time when I stepped away from the Maker's Light and allowed myself to be seduced by Darkness. Though it was brief, it was enough to cause devastation and destruction that haunted me for the rest of my life.
Many ages past, I was Reeva, a warrior of Sahira, Captain of the Gryphon warriors, and a hero of many battles between Sahira and the Wolf Riders, for we had yet to come to agreements and truces as we would in later times. I was counted as one to be admired and respected, and there was even talk of my achieving a seat in the Council of the Wise when I was of age for such a position. My future was sure, my position among my people strong.
I was a young man of restless mind, always seeking for new knowledge, new wisdom and new understanding of things. I sought learning of all things; sciences, medicines, building things, crafting, everywhere I could find knowledge I sought it, hungered for it, consumed it and claimed if for myself. My appetite was voracious and I felt I could never be satisfied, could never learn enough to feel I had attained all the knowledge there was to gain.
And then I met Derog.
He was of the Manor, though only Second-Born.
You must understand, Jaryd, Derog was Second-Born of the first family of the Manorborn. This was when the Manor first came to be, so far, far in the past of the worlds, back when your world was but newly formed. We of the worlds marveled that such a place existed, that such a people existed, and that the Maker had created such a place and given it, and all that came with it, to one family. The first Lord of the Manor, Lord Aadhan, was of great nobility and had proven himself a man of wisdom and understanding, as well as a warrior few dared face. He had faced the Darkness in several battles already, and been victorious. All held him in the highest of respect and his two sons, Abercio and Derog, were held in almost as much esteem as he. They were both of strong form and frame, and their hearts were for the Maker in all things.
Or so we all thought.
Derog was tall, finely formed, and a man who endeared himself to all with his generosity and care for those in need. He was a mighty warrior against the Darkness, and proved himself in battle after battle. He and his brother often fought side by side, their eagles soaring overhead. When the Sons of Aadhan were present all felt safe.
I was taken by Derog, amazed at his skill in war as well as his heart for others, and we became fast friends, great friends. He joined me in quests for knowledge and learning, and I delighted in showing him my latest discoveries. Over the years, our friendship grew and deepened. I trusted him with all my knowledge and secrets. We celebrated when I was made a Captain in the Vale Guard; the highest honour a Sahiran Gryphon rider could achieve. The Vale Gaurd stood watch over the few gates that led into the Vale of Wisdom, where Lusira, the Dragon of Light dwelt, and where the Sages gathered up knowledge from all the known worlds. My being a Captain allowed me entrance into this realm of knowledge, and I consumed all I could! Oh, what heady days those were!
But my hunger for knowledge became my undoing. I had received too many accolades, amassed too much popular goodwill, too much adoration, and I was full of vanity and pride. Of course, at the time, I did not realize this. I only know it now, looking back.
I craved the knowledge of particular tomes and books, documents that I was told were too much for me to read, that only the Sages could truly understand what was in those texts. I know now that what they said was true; those writings were such that only a Sage could fully deal with the truth contained within. I was a fool to think I was ready for what they contained.
But I wanted them, I craved them as a thirsty man craves drink.
And Derog knew this.
He played to my vanity, agreed with me that I should be allowed access to those documents. I was counted wise among my people was I not? I was hailed as one who would soon be on the Council of the Wise! Why should I not read those scrolls?
"What would be the harm in letting you seem them?" Derog spoke in honeyed words. "At worst, you find you cannot comprehend them, and the Sages are proved true. At best, you gain knowledge that you could use to help others, as you have done so often in the past. It is not beyond you to understand what is there; why should the Sages have access to all knowledge while they only give out the crumbs to those seeking knowledge?"
I should have known this was not true. Indeed, Derog had said such things more often recently; why should those with a right to something be denied it, simply because of who they were, or when they were born? Looking back, I see how his mind was becoming darker, more twisted, out of jealousy toward his older brother, Abercio, the first born and heir to the seat of the Manor.
I was such a fool.
Time went on, and Derog came by less. He seemed frustrated, angered, but he would not say from what, only that he would get what he was owed. Of late, his face had taken on a darker visage, a grimace marring his once fair features, and many commented on this; warned me to be wary of him.
But I still counted him my friend. Indeed, the more I was denied access to the Vault of Sages, the more I turned to him to hear his sweet words, and to know that he agreed with me and my desires.
And then Derog disappeared.
No one knew where he was; not his family, not his allies or peers, no one.
I was without my friend, and only able to wallow in my resentment. My desires for the Vault rose, my hunger for their knowledge suffused my being. I became restless, angered, and did my duties only because I had to. But all the while, I hungered, I craved, I lusted, after those tomes of knowledge.
Then, one day, as I was at my gate, I heard the voice I had not heard in days.
"Reeva,"
I turned to look, but beheld only shadow among shadow amidst the trees that bordered the Vale.
"Who comes to seek the Vale?"
"It is I, Reeva, Derog, your friend. I have found a way to open the Vault of Sages for you. You may have what you desired most."
It was Derog's voice, but different, seeming hollow, lacking the warmth with which my friend had spoken to me so often.
But my hunger was profound, my desire too strong.
"Truly?! You can gain me entrance inot the Vault?!"
Oh, the thrill that passed over me, the joy and excitement! I would see the knowledge within the Vault!!!
"Come my friend! Come and let us delve into the mysteries together!"
I opened the gate, eager to lay my hands upon those parchments so long denied me.
You must understand, Jaryd, only a Captain of the Vale Gaurd may open a gate into the Vale. None could enter the Vale by force, the gates could not be broken, only the Captains could open them.
And I was the fool who did so.
I had barely opened the golden entrance, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and beheld a horror such as I had never imagined before.
A huge figure stood there, armoured, all in black, with a many pointed helm upon his head, and a glittering black blade in his hand. I could see no face within the helm, but a dread fear came over me as it gazed on me, and I could not move to stay the armoured one in any way.
I felt a chill pass over me as the voice of one I had once counted friend spoke from within that helm.
"My thanks, Reeva, old friend. We could not have entered the Vale without you."
He threw me to the side as if I were a rag doll weighing nothing, and I lay there, stunned, shocked, as he passed me by, his hordes of scarlet - eyed, Shaiden in his wake. I staggered to my feet, only to see my one time friend slaying Sages left and right while he laughed at their feeble attempts to defend themselves. The other Captains were beset by Shaiden as well, and could not aid in the defense of the Vale in any way as I fell to my knees weeping at my own foolishness.
Lusira sought to fight, to defend her home. But she was caught unawares and, stunned as her Sages were, she had only a moment to cry out before the Chains of Binding were around her throat and she was helpless in the clutches of the dark being I had once thought of as almost a brother.
I was frozen, lost, unknowing of what to do. What could I do? Derog was more powerful than any warrior I had ever known. Who could stand against him?
Then, a voice spoke in my head.
"Deny him what he seeks!"
And I knew.
The Vault!
He craved the knowledge in the Vault as well! That was why he so desired the Vale, why he had attacked it!
I staggered to my feet and ran toward the white marble building that was the vault. I passed by the dark one who I know counted enemy, as he killed the Chief Sage of the Vale. As that one fell, I saw Derog stagger back as if struck a blow. Only later would Iearn of the prophecy the Chief had uttered.
I burst past the two remaining guards, ignoring their cries of protest, and tore the silver key from the belt of one. Then, grabbing a torch from a nearby scone, for they ever had torches burning for those who desired to enter the dark depths below.
But I knew the Vale was lost.
"Forgive me." I said.
I tore open the doors and, even as I heard him, my one time friend roar in protest, I grabbed a tub of lamp oil that was nearby and threw it down the stairs. Then, with tears in my eyes, I cried out in denial as I threw the torch down the stairs, and turned to face my one time friend, I drew my blade and fought him at a stand still as flames roared up behind and below me and the knowledge I had so long craved burned and crackled to ash.
Our blades clashed, and I knew I was no match for him. He was too strong, too powerful. As well, there was a part of me that resisted the idea of striking my friend.
Derog had no such issue.
He struck my blade aside and, grasping me by the throat, he slammed me against the wall, his helmed face mere inches from mine. I could barely breathe, and knew he was crushing my throat. My vision swam, became narrow, and I knew I was not long for this world. As the world turned dark, I prayed the Maker would forgive my betrayal and give me a chance for reclamation, no matter how long it took.
I did not even feel myself fall to the ground.
When I regained my senses, I found myself at the bast of the cliffs that led up to the Vale. I burning hot, thisty, and my throat was in agony such that it hurt to breathe. As awareness came, I perceived I had been thrown down the cliffs along with many others, most of whom were dead, with a few still clinging to life. I sought to aid and restore those I could to the best of my ability and, once I felt they were at a point where they would live, I stripped myself of my armour and any emblem of honour I had ever born, for I felt I no longer deserved any of them. Then, wearing only my tunic and sandals, I wondered out into the wilderness of the Desert Sea.
I do not know how long I wandered in that land men consider to be a wasted expanse and unlivable, for time seemed to cease to have meaning. I slept during the heat of the day and rose to wander at night. I drank from streams I found, and ate from plants and sometimes animals I killed with a rough made sling or spear I fashioned from a tree branch and a stone. I did not think of it at the time, and only realized in hindsight that the water seemed to always be there when I needed it most, and the branch and stone seemed to appear on the ground regardless of there being no trees around, and that the flint stone should not have been there. Looking back, I realized the Maker was watching over me, providing for me, even in the time when I felt I was furthest from his grace and provision.
And I learned.
I learned in ways I had never thought of before, I learned by trial and error. Experience was my teacher, the Maker was my instructor, and he used his creation to show me things I had never learned before. I gained knowledge of plants and rocks, minerals and hidden things in the desert none of my people had ever known before. I was a new student all over again, and I was as eager to learn as I had been before. But now I sought to learn simply for the sake of learning for, in learning, I discovered knew ways of knowing the Maker and his world. I saw the gifts he had been waiting to show the Sahiran people, the wonders he had in store for us, and I praised him and thanked him for making me his clay to mold as he would.
How long was I in the wilderness? I do not know. But, when I emerged from it, my hair was white, my skin wrinkled, and my voice that of an old man. Yet, despite this, my energy did not wain, my eyes were as bright as in my youth, my arm was as strong as ever, and my mind was more clear than it had ever been.
I returned to my people, and found that the one known as Reeva was believed to have died at the taking of the Vale, which people now called the Midnight Vale. I discovered that Derog was now known as the Midnight King, and was feared and hated throughout Sahira and the Wolflord lands. Also, I learned that he had killed his elder brother the day he attacked the Vale, and that the Lord of the Manor, bereft of children, had prayed to the Maker, and was blessed with another son, but only one son. In time, we would learn that there was only ever one son born to the Manor from then on.
At first, when people saw me, they called me, "Ancient One," simply as an honorific or title, but, I never spoke of my name and, in time, that term became the name by which I was known. I became an honoured wanderer, moving from town to town, sharing knowledge where I could, healing where I could, and trying to be the best servant of the Maker I could be. Centuries passed, and I remained as I was, with no change to my body or my mind.
When I first realized how old I was, and yet retained my strength and showed no indications of dying, I wondered at it. How was this possible? But, when I reflected on it, I recalled my plea to the Maker that I would not die until I saw the salvation of the Vale, and I knew he had answered my prayer; I would not die until the Midnight King was removed and the Vale restoried.
So, I carried on, I existed. I found joy in serving, among other things, and soon became a voice on the Council of the Wise, though I was never a member. In hindsight, I see how the Maker made me so much more, and so much less, than I ever desired. At times I was angry at him for this, at times I begged him to end my unending life, but I will say to my last that what I was given was far more than I ever asked or deserved.
I was content with what my life was, and ready to live it as HE wanted me to.
Then, I saw you.
I stood at your naming ceremony, just one of many who were there and thought I felt something special about you. However, it was not until you summoned me to aid your father and your brother, that I knew. I remembered the prophecy of long ago about three from one, and I felt a stirring in me, a fire that had burned to low embers over the centuries. It came aflame with new passion and desire, and I knew I had to aid you with all I could to help you overthrow the Midnight King.
Jaryd, my dear boy, my Lord, I know you will feel sorrow at my passing. Brief though it was, I count our meeting and our friendship as one of the most precious of my life. I have gone to stand before the Maker, and I believe I can stand tall before him, and hear him announce I have served him well. Have I been perfect? No, for I am still mortal and often full of error and mistakes. But in his grace and forgiveness I stand.
Walk with HIM always, Jaryd. Know that I look forward to meeting you again in the House of the Maker. Until then, know that Reeva of the Sahiran, once Captain of the Vale Gaurd, counted you as the greatest of friends.
Walk with HIM!
Never fail to STAND!
Reeva
Jaryd gently closed the letter, promising himself to read it again and to share it with Benjamin and Galen when the time was right to do so. He let his head rest back against the tree, his eyes distant as he thought about what he had read.
"The poor man."
Oriana's voice was gentle, caring, and tenderly sorrowful for the Ancient One as she spoke. She had read the letter as Jaryd had, and now let her head rest on the young man's shoulder as her own eyes gazed out at the dark woods around them, her face gentle with care.
"We knew of the Ancient One, for he was legendary among all the peoples of the land. He visited my father at times, and his father before him, and his before that, for many long years back. We marveled at his wisdom, perception and knowledge, and all valued his council for it was ever wise. But, to know where he came from, how he came to be who we knew, and the life he led makes his value as a person, as a servant of the Maker, all the more profound."
She raised her eyes to Jaryd with as soft smile.
"You were concerned reading this letter would make you think less of him. For me, I think it makes me regard him with even more respect than before."
Jaryd nodded, not sure he knew the words to say at that moment. How do you speak of one who had been through so much, who had been hero, betrayers, champion, and sacrifice? How did one do justice to such a one as that?
"I knew he was an amazing man when I first met him. But knowing what I know now...yes, Oriana, I think he truly was much more than he would ever admit to being or accept as being." A small smiled crossed Jaryd's lips, "I find I want to refer to him as a saint, though that would likely cause him to deny such a thing."
"Aye, he would, and would say he did not deserve such an hounour, and admonish you for saying such a thing." The Pricess of Lotha smiled warmly.
Jaryd looked down at her with warmth in his gaze.
"Thank you, Princess, for encouraging me to read this; you prove to be wiser than I once again. I shall have to keep that in mind in the future, so as to prevent myself from looking the fool." The last was said with a playful grin on his lips.
"Well, I have outlived you by 200 years, Jaryd Manorborn. One might think I had gained some wisdom in that time." Oriana smirked in playful haughtiness.
"I can only hope when I am 200 years older, I shall have the wisdom of Oriana of Lotha woods."
Laughing, they mounted upon their steeds and, side by side, rode off into the ebony woods toward King Alor's palace.