A Warrior's Path Read online

  “Oh, my prince,” Agucho sobbed. “What terrible fate has befallen you?”

  At the sound of this familiar voice, Gayossha turned to behold his kinsman. “My cousin,” he croaked sickeningly. “You must help...my revenge. Our people...mussst fight. Old man and...the empire. Fly! Fly over the mountains! Kill the enemies of our people! Especially the old man of Eastmountain!” These last screeching statements seemed to be too much for the prince, and he slumped limply in Orbein's hands.

  “Oh, Gayossha!” lamented Agucho as he knelt with his face in his hands. The Fiu-Het began muttering other things, but whether it was because the words were in his own tongue or completely muddled by sobs, the king could not understand them.

  Orbein released his hold on the lifeless body of the Fiu-Het prince, and as he did it began to twist and grow. Within moments the grotesque, bat-like shape was replaced by Gayossha's original form. Agucho paused in mid-sob to watch as the prince's corpse seemed to deflate, as if it had been a skin filled with only air. It was said among the Fiu-Het that the bones were the house of the soul, because after its departing, the body becomes nothing more than a bag of flesh, and when the flesh decays and turns to dust, no remains are left behind aside from a pile of ragged clothing.

  The king watched Gayossha’s corpse dissolve without so much as a blink or raised eyebrow. He knew that his scout had just died before his very eyes. His wonderful marvelous scout. Joy welled up within him even as his newest, and now only, Fiu-Het agent despaired at his feet. Though this scenario had been unexpected, it was better than he could have ever hoped for. Now he had the perfect purpose for dragging the Fiu-Het into his war. He guessed that they would be unable to resist offering their assistance.

  * * *

  Urietsin saw a light piercing the darkness, but as from far away. He felt like he had been wandering through a dark cave or tunnel. Voices whispered his name, some inviting, some desperate. He felt as though things were reaching for him, and whether it was for help or to pull him deeper into the impenetrable darkness, he could not say. It all frightened him. He could not tell if he was walking or swimming or flying, and he never knew which way was up. But he was moving, and whatever his orientation, he refused to go near the wall of the cave. He was not sure how he accomplished this, as he could not see anything, but he somehow remained just out of reach of the hands that grasped and the voices that whispered.

  He couldn’t tell how long he wandered, for time seemed to have no real meaning in this place. At times it felt like he had been there for an eternity and others only minutes. It was a place where five seconds ago seemed further away than the hour that had just passed. Not a moment went by that he didn't hear a voice whispering for him or feel a rush of air as something tried to grab him. He was beginning to believe that there would be no end to this dark tunnel of lost souls.

  Unexpectedly, the light had come tearing through the black shadow and showed Urietsin the way. It was like the sun was shining on his face after a dark, cold winter, and he basked in its energy. The grasping hands shrank back, and the whispers fell silent, giving way to a strong voice that called clearly to him. This new voice did not frighten him, and he sped along the tunnel toward the light. Although he did not know where he would end up, he knew it would be a place where he belonged; it would be home.

  The Swift One emerged from the obscurity, and the light closed around him as the tunnel disappeared into nothingness. At first it seemed as though his world was just one white brightness, but colors slowly separated themselves from the light until he saw a blurry collage of familiar vibrance. As he remembered how to see through his eyes once again, the world came into focus.

  He was under a tiny hide shelter that opened out to a small clearing in sparse woods. The hide over him was covered with a dense fur. He reached up and caressed it gently, but as he did a pain shot through his head. His hand went to the pain, and he felt a deep bruise throbbing under his scalp on the back of his skull. Memories flooded back to him of his last conscious moments. He marveled at his apparent survival of the horrific events that had befallen him and his companions.

  Crawling out from under the lean-to, Urietsin suddenly felt sore and much battered. His muscles ached, and as he examined himself, he saw many cuts and bruises, though they had been cleaned and well-tended. It took much strength and a moment of deep breathing before he could stand without swaying. He regained his bearings and looked back on his little shelter. The side that pointed out toward the elements was still fairly fresh and curing. Something within told the Swift One that he was looking at a gotori skin. Beyond the shelter, in the center of the clearing, stood a scorched, but sturdy-looking stone foundation and a hearth with strips of meat hung and drying over cooling embers.

  The Swift One headed toward the hearth to investigate a bit more closely. The sound of a crunching leaf from somewhere behind sent him into a spinning crouch. His vision blurred as intense pain spidered throughout his ribcage from the sudden tensing of bruised muscle around fractured bone. He was not yet strong enough to have made such an intense motion. His mind struggled to hold onto consciousness as his body urged him to give into the sweet darkness again. This time it was his mind that won out, and he forced his eyes into focus.

  The world looked strange to him, and he had trouble regaining his bearings. When he finally did, he realized that he was lying on his side. His chest was very tight from the sudden shock, and his breath came in short, intermittent gasps. He waited for a moment, trying to relax his lungs and let the air just flow. As his breathing returned to normal, he became increasingly aware that he was not alone. Something was moving toward him from behind the foliage, and whatever it was, it was about to step into the open. Urietsin, determined to look into the eyes of his oncoming fate, forced himself to sit up. With pain-clenched teeth, he peered intensely at the brush that blocked the advancing target from his sight.

  “You should be resting.”

  The clear, stern voice that had sounded from beyond the clearing nearly caused the startled young warrior to leap from his seated position. Pain, however, kept Urietsin grounded, and he squinted in the direction of the voice. “Who are you? Show yourself!” he called, managing to sound quite confident, despite his vulnerable state.

  An elderly figure stepped around the brush and stood for a moment staring at The Swift One appraisingly. At least, the figure looked elderly at a glance, but upon closer inspection, Urietsin realized that this was only because of the long gray beard and bald crown. In all other respects, this man appeared much younger. Dense musculature rippled slightly as he shifted his weight and dropped the very large section of tree trunk he had been carrying over one shoulder. In a symphony of graceful balance and dexterous posture, the strange, ageless man stepped over the uneven ground to where the young warrior sat. “You should not have risen. Your wounds are still quite serious,” he said.

  “I feel fine,” Urietsin lied with a tensed jaw. “Just a few bruises.”

  The elder man smiled. “Yes, a few very serious bruises. The kind that require rest to heal.”

  “How long have I been resting?” the Swift one asked.

  “Just about three days, and it is good that you have awakened. Had you slept much longer, I would have feared you lost in the dark forever.”

  Those words chilled Urietsin's very spirit, and he shuddered visibly. It made him feel very tired. He looked to the bed of soft furs upon which he had been laying only moments before. The old man followed his gaze and smiled, offering the Swift One a hand. He understood what the young warrior had seen in his brush with death and how it could seem frightening to one so inexperienced. He helped Urietsin to his feet and supported him as he walked back to the lean-to.

  Sitting upon the piled furs beneath the shelter, the Swift One looked up thoughtfully. “I wonder,” he prompted, “how did you find me?”

  “In a bad way,” the older man replied, sitting on the bare ground next to the shelter. “The gotori had slain those other
men you were with. It was about to finish you when I arrived.”

  “So, the other men are...”

  “Dead, yes. I buried the three of them and their weapons in a spot not far from here,” the man replied.

  Urietsin's brow furrowed. “The three of them? Where was the fourth? There was a fourth man with us.”

  The young warrior's caretaker shrugged. “I know not. Perhaps he was able to flee before my arrival, as you all should have done. The gotori is a deadly foe, able to take out many more than just five men at once.”

  “But you defeated him alone?” the Swift One asked doubtfully.

  “A warrior's mind is his greatest weapon. With it he can defeat even the strongest foe.”

  At that Urietsin fell into a contemplative silence and did not respond for several moments. “Well, once again I ask, who are you?”

  “I was called Kiusu Tho-Shoishu when my name was still called by men of the world. A warrior sometimes and a seeker of wisdom always, but most simply, I am just a man living in solitude in the mountain wilderness.”

  Urietsin’s jaw fell open and he bowed his head. “You’re name is well known in the empire. My father told me stories of how you and your master helped to defeat Reisothin. It is my greatest honor to meet you.”

  Now it was Kiusu who was silent. The young warrior spoke of the past as if it was so distant, but to the long-lived hermit, the time of the dragon was not so long ago at all. After a moment of reflection, he looked back to Urietsin and smiled. “Rest again, young one. Tomorrow you can tell me more of the empire. Long has it been since I last heard another human's voice. Now that I have heard yours, I long to hear more. Rest and rise healthier tomorrow.”

  Urietsin wasn't sure if he was truly tired enough to sleep. His body was wearied from the effort of rising today, but his mind raced with thoughts that he felt sure would keep him wide awake. As this hero of the empire spoke to him, though, he felt his eyes closing of their own will. It seemed to him that this Kiusu was lulling him to slumber with his soft words. Unable to keep a hold on his usual alertness, the young warrior slipped into the folds of a deep sleep. As he succumbed to his subconscious, several images flashed through the haze of his resting mind. Each one never came into full focus, but he could see the faces of the men who had fallen to the gotori staring back at him sadly.

  Urietsin had rested a few more days at Kiusu's urging, but eagerness and quick healing found him out of bed within a week and exploring the area that had been his host's home for two decades. So frequent were his explorations that Kiusu had rarely any time to hear much about the empire he had left so long ago. The old man noticed the Swift One's curiosity with no small measure of satisfaction. This inquisitive, intelligent, and observant young warrior would make the perfect pupil. Of course, Urietsin knew nothing of Kiusu's intentions, but the time was quickly approaching for this information to be revealed. For as he healed, the Swift One seemed closer and closer to the conclusion that he would eventually have to rejoin his companions and report the outcome of his mission.

  “Swift One!” Kiusu called, fond of Urietsin's nickname like so many others seemed to be.

  Urietsin bounded over to the old man and helped him lift a large section of timber closer to the already nearly completed hut. The young warrior strained slightly at the weight, but Kiusu hardly even breathed heavily. He suspected that the unceasingly amazing man didn't truly need his help, but he seemed to ask for it more and more as the days went by. The two laid the wood down by the gaping front section of the hut, which needed the most work. Urietsin stood up and adopted a pensive pose.

  “What is it?” the perceptive old man asked.

  “I shall be leaving you soon. I must get back to my party and let them know that I am still alive and that the others are...” the young warrior trailed off, unable to finish.

  Kiusu's brow furrowed. “Hmm...” was his only response.

  “Of course, I thank you for saving my life, and for tending to my injuries. For that I owe you an enormous debt. Know that you will see me again so that I may repay it,” the Swift One amended quickly, fearing he had hurt the old man's feelings.

  Kiusu simply raised an eyebrow and nodded. Now seemed as good a time as any. He looked down at the trunk sitting before him, then closed his eyes.

  Urietsin flinched, suddenly startled at the seemingly impossible event that manifested before him. Somehow the old man was crouching low with his fist pointing downward, though the young warrior hadn't actually seen him move. Even more startling was the loud crack that echoed over the mountainside as the two now cleanly separated halves of the trunk flew away from each other with incredible momentum.

  Urietsin moved his mouth a few times, looked from one half of the trunk to the other, then finally found his voice. “How?” was all he could manage to say. He had seen the old man perform amazing feats of strength over these past several days, but nothing that seemed so implausible as this.

  Kiusu smiled. “There is no explanation I could give to you that would provide a true understanding of what I just did. You would have to do it yourself.”

  The Swift One shook his head. “I can't even believe you did it. How could I possibly do it?”

  “You don't believe I did it? Why?” the old man asked.

  “Because it is not possible for a man to do that. Even if he is as strong as you appear to be,” Urietsin replied.

  “You believe it is not possible for a man to do what I just did, and yet I did it. What does that tell you?” The question was wrapped in expectation and filled with hope.

  Urietsin was silent for several moments as a jumble of thoughts fought to converge into one simple answer. “My belief is incorrect.”

  Kiusu beamed. “It would be better to say that your perceptions are limited. Here is a secret truth you should always remember, Urietsin: although the world would like you to think differently, your reality is a slave to your perceptions.”

  Urietsin turned this over in his mind quietly. Eventually he said, “But how can that be? Reality is what it is.”

  Kiusu chuckled. He remembered the days when he asked that very same question. He now understood the amused expression on his master's face. “Allow me to demonstrate,” he said. The old man bent over and moved the dirt around until he found a small piece of rock. He placed it in the palm of his hand and held it up for Urietsin to see.

  “Are you going to tell me this pebble only exists because I perceive it?” the young warrior asked.

  “Not quite,” said Kiusu with a smile. Slowly, he closed his hand around the rock, his fingers completely concealing it from view. His other hand hung passively by his side. “Now tell me,” he said, “does the stone still exist in my hand?”

  “I do not see how it could be otherwise,” the Swift One replied.

  The old man smiled mischievously and opened his palm to reveal nothing. The stone was gone.

  Urietsin's expression, however, was one of skepticism. “A simple trick,” he said. “My father used to produce coins and trinkets from behind my ears when I was a child. That was no different.”

  “Really?” asked Kiusu. “And yet you were convinced that the stone was still there only moments ago.”

  Urietsin shook his head stubbornly. “A trick,” was his only response.

  “Perhaps,” the old man replied, “but even if that is so, where is the stone?”

  The Swift One's brow creased momentarily, but then he shot Kiusu a triumphant look. “If reality was a slave to my perceptions, as you say, and I perceived the stone to be in your hand, why wasn’t it?”

  His retort did not have the effect he had expected. Instead of realizing his folly, the old man seemed even more amused at Urietsin's debate. “Your reality, Swift One. Only your reality is such a slave. You may have thought the stone was still in my hand, but I knew that it wasn't. This demonstrates the difference between existence and reality. Reality is perceived by an individual; it is an abstraction of existence. In many cases
we are taught to limit that abstraction, but by broadening our perceptions we can get a better idea of what existence truly is and the infinite ways in which we may interact with it.”

  Urietsin wore a blank expression. It was clear that he had no response, and after several moments of blinking, it was also clear that one was not forthcoming. Kiusu walked over and patted his shoulder. “Do not worry, Swift One, you will understand. I will show you, if you wish.”

  “You will teach me how to do the things you do?” Urietsin asked, waving to one of the trunk halves.

  “No,” replied Kiusu, “but I will teach you how to discover them for yourself.” He gave the young warrior one more pat on the shoulder and walked back toward the foliage.

  Urietsin watched him go with no small measure of intrigue. He was fascinated by the possibility of being able to do the things he saw Kiusu do. He absently walked over to one of the trunk halves that the old man had punched through, debating with himself about whether he should stay or leave. He sat down on the wood, which was easily two feet in diameter, but jumped up quickly rubbing his backside. There, on the smooth bark where Urietsin had tried to sit, was the stone the old man had held, unmistakable in shape. He saw no way that Kiusu could have placed it there without him seeing, trick or no. Now his mind was made up.

  * * *

  Captain Komeris had led a tired but determined march from the base of the eastern mountain back to the forest. The journey was a bit longer than it had been in the opposite direction, as the party had moved more slowly through weariness and sadness. Many more torches had been lit at night than was necessary, and the group had stayed close together, many of the scouts fearing the gotori, or perhaps some other beast forgotten to all but legend, would pounce upon them from the shadows.