A Warrior's Path Read online

  The echoes of his heartfelt plea hung in the air for quite some time before silence overtook the acoustics in the temple. And it remained silent. This was the worst part. Now the emperor would have to wait for a response from above. It could take all day...or all week. No god was at any mortal's beck and call. So, Geilo would wait. If it was the will of Minotros that he know the fate of his people, it would be made apparent sooner or later.

  6. Discovery

  Gayossha soared over the mountains north of where he had seen the old man. He relished the cool feeling of the wind rushing past his face. He knew that to fly directly east would be the most efficient use of his time, but he was enjoying the freedom of this sensation. The Fiu-Het, still in bird form, pitied the pathetic humans, who would only ever know one shape throughout their entire lives. The avian form was definitely his favorite, as nothing compared to the feeling of flight. It was the one time when he almost felt at peace with the world.

  He was fortunate among his race. Gayossha was born with an unnatural endurance, a trait held very sacred to his people and a fitting gift for one of his social status. For days he had flown without rest, combing the mountains north to south, only partially interested in finding where the old man he had seen could have come from.

  The bird-shaped creature dove toward the ground near the eastern edge of the mountain chain. Although he was enjoying his flight, Gayossha decided to get to work. The Fiu-Het were a busy race. They were very dedicated toilers. Always doing, always accomplishing, always busy. Unfortunately, this work was primarily for the individual's benefit, rather than the good of the whole. Most of the shapeshifters were fiercely competitive, constantly trying to outdo one another, and treachery was not unheard of among them. The Fiu-Het didn't really consider themselves wicked because of this, just very determined.

  Gliding a few hundred meters above the ground, Gayossha spotted a dense forest ahead, east of the mountains. He flapped his wings a few times to pick up some speed. His instinct told him that he would find something in that direction. Perhaps just another hermit living in the wilderness, but Gayossha hoped for more. The eastern lands had been at peace for as long as he could remember. It would be nice to stir things up a bit.

  To the west of the swamps of the Fiu-Het, a thriving civilization had eventually risen from a depressed population plodding through a dark age as though it were the debris of some apocalyptic disaster. Unlike the people of the east lands, the people of this culture spread far and wide, populating the continent of Riijahn. Huge cities sprang up, and wars raged through decades. It was the stuff of childhood stories for a Fiu-Het. Massive armies of humans clashing together and slaughtering each other in great numbers. Much like the people of the east, the people of the west left the Fiu-Het to themselves, fearing the shapeshifters' mysterious abilities and dubious natural appearance. Humans were all the same.

  As Gayossha glided ever east, he mused upon the unimpressiveness of the people on this side of the fen. Compared to the civilizations of the west, these people seemed as mere tribal folk, wandering the hinterlands in search of a home. Even Orbein, with his small army and gray castle, was but a chieftain to these poor pathetics who would most likely be wiped out within the century. Not like in more ancient times, before the Fiu-Het had diminished to the bogs.

  At one time the men of the east had been superior, and most of Riijahn had been uncivilized. Such was the way of things. Kingdoms great and small rose and fell since the beginning of time in these lands. Gayossha loved the thought of it. He cackled at the scenes that played out in his mind's eye. These wretches battling for control of hillocks and glens just before some greater foe arrived to wipe them from the history books. And he would be there to see it all. He would be there to lend a helping hand to the destruction of these gentiles.

  As he glided over miles and miles of trees, Gayossha maintained this fantastical meditative trance until his daydreams were interrupted by something. It was a feeling, an instinct that told him to investigate. He adjusted his course and veered downward toward the treetops. Now he could smell it more clearly. The remnants of a campfire, extinguished fairly recently. The bird-shaped creature let his keen senses guide him to a clearing where he fluttered to the ground for a closer look.

  There had indeed been a campfire and a fairly large camp as well. Continued investigation revealed that a large group of humans, for no other race would leave such obvious signs of its presence, had chosen this spot to rest. Furthermore, it appeared as though the group reentered the forest heading west. Backtracking to the point where the group had emerged from the forest into the clearing was not difficult either. They had come directly from the east. This left Gayossha with an interesting choice.

  East or west?

  If Gayossha flew back the way he had come, he might be able to spot the group through the trees and find out who they were and where they were headed. On the other hand, if he flew east, he might find out where this group had come from. The Fiu-Het decided that the bloodthirsty, would-be-conqueror King Orbein would probably be more interested in where they came from, especially if it was this empire he spoke of. Besides, he could catch up with the group on the way back and have a little fun of his own.

  Gayossha spread his wings and prepared to take flight when he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked in the direction of the motion curiously, cocking his head much like a bird would, but saw nothing unusual. Folding his wings closer to his body, he stepped forward and peered into the forest.

  There was nothing, and yet, despite the fact that he could see only trees, the Fiu-Het was certain there was something there. He could smell something unusual, but familiar in the air. So intently was the shapeshifter staring into the forest that he almost did not notice that something had sneaked up directly behind him. Jumping quickly into the air and fluttering his wings in short, rapid flaps, Gayossha ascended quickly to a high tree branch and looked down.

  Looking back up at him from the ground was a man-like creature, slightly more compact than most humans. He had long, dark hair and bright eyes that meshed unusually well with his tan complexion. His face was delicately angular, like a marble sculpture. The most telling feature, however, was the creature's ears. They were elongated at the top and came to a rounded point. Gayossha could tell from this and his forest camouflage clothing that he was looking at an elf.

  The shapeshifter had never actually seen an elf before, but he had heard many stories about the mysterious people. He also knew that his disguise would not fool this one, especially if this forest was his home. Gayossha was uncertain of what to do next. He could fly away, leaving this elf to wonder what strange creature had entered his forest, or he could stay and talk to him. His curiosity got the better of him, and he hopped off the branch and fluttered back to the ground.

  “What manner of creature are you?” the elf asked in his own tongue, which was unknown to the shapeshifter.

  Gayossha looked the figure before him over and recounted all he had ever heard about these creatures. He closed his eyes and envisioned an elf: lithe, fair, pointy ears, and all. When he looked again at the elf, he looked through shimmering emerald Shionen eyes. The elf raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

  “I do not speak your tongue, good sir, perhaps you speak mine?” Gayossha asked, shuddering internally at calling the human language his own.

  “A human that can change shape?” The question came back in a dialect almost identical to the one the shapeshifter used.

  “Please, friend, forgive my deception. I am an emissary, a magician from the court of King Orbein the Benevolent,” Gayossha paused, unsure of where to proceed from here.

  “Are you a part of the group of humans who were camped here a short time ago?” the elf asked suspiciously.

  “Yes,” the Fiu-Het lied again. “Yes I was. I was scouting ahead, and I seem to have lost my way. I was trying to backtrack to see if I could find them. Could you tell me which direction they went?”

&n
bsp; Shionen lips curled to amused condescension. “Were I blind and lame I could still track them. They left an obvious trail heading west.”

  Gayossha feigned relief. “Ah, excellent. Thank you, friend,” he said beginning to walk in the direction indicated by the elf.

  “Tell me, magician...”

  The shapeshifter halted and turned. “Yes?” he replied.

  “Why do you appear to me as an elf?” the elf asked.

  At that, Gayossha faltered. It wasn't as though he was particularly afraid of this elf; the Fiu-Het could probably easily break him in half. But he also knew that appearances could be deceiving, and where one elf was out in the open, a host of others could be waiting in the trees. Gayossha's mind raced to come up with a lie, something he was normally good at.

  “Ah yes!” he said finally, trying to put a hint of pride in his voice. “I'm glad you noticed my attempt. You see, as a magician, shapeshifting is my specialty, and I always enjoy a good challenge. I have never been an elf before.”

  “Nor will you ever be,” the elven stranger said calmly.

  Gayossha was taken aback. He had always heard that elves were a prideful people, but this one's last response seemed tactless. Unsure of what a human would do in this situation, the shapeshifter decided to be respectful.

  “Of course not,” Gayossha said reverently. “There is much more to an elf than just his shape.”

  The elf nodded, seemingly ignoring the compliment. “Go then,” was his simple response.

  Gayossha needed no further prompting; he abruptly turned and headed back into the forest. Once he was deep enough in the foliage, or so he thought, he transformed back into his bird shape, altering it as much as possible from his usual avian form. He decided to continue west toward the group of humans that he knew was ahead of him. He could always fly back east fast enough for his own liking. Besides, he might be able to learn some valuable information from the group and pinpoint exactly where they had come from.

  * * *

  Tilon Enshei watched the Shionen-shaped creature quickly enter the forest. He stood in the clearing for a while until he could only hear faint footsteps. This creature, whoever he was, could never be an elf. No elf would make such noise walking through the forest. Shaking his head, Tilon followed the sound into the trees hiding amid the tall trunks as he went. He did not walk far before the sound ceased. The elf listened intently, thinking that his target had stopped for a moment to get his bearings. After a period of silence, Tilon decided to go on, tracking to the place where the sound had stopped. He didn't expect to find anything there.

  It did not take him long to reach the spot where the trail ended. Tilon knew every inch of the forest, and the creature did not choose a difficult path. The elven warrior looked around curiously. There was no sign of where the 'magician' had gone. Tilon was not surprised, but he was interested in discovering just where the deceiver was going.

  “He took the shape of a bird again,” a feminine voice behind him explained.

  Tilon turned. “Marui,” he said to the Shionen female as she emerged from among the trees. “You saw him?”

  “Yes,” she replied. “He assumed a new bird shape and took wing heading west. Perhaps to quicken his reunion with the humans?” Doubt was obvious in her tone.

  Tilon shook his head. “I don't think our magician friend was completely honest with us,” he said.

  Marui raised an inquiring eyebrow. “Another stranger in our forest. Do you think he was even human?” she asked.

  “I don't know,” he answered thoughtfully, “but I'm not sure what else he, or it, might be.”

  “But he is heading back toward the group,” Marui said.

  Tilon nodded in agreement to his partner's instinct. “He is not with the group, but I am also sure that he is heading for them. Whoever or whatever he is, he must be watched. Go home and tell the others what we've discovered thus far. Bring them to Oak's Expanse in two days time. The way will be difficult for them, but they should make it by then. I will meet you there. It's time we addressed the sudden unwelcome interest in our home.”

  * * *

  The elderly master Kiusu sat in a kneeling position on the soft leaf and pine needle-covered ground of the mountain. His palms were flat and relaxed upon his lap. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and steady. He was motionless but relaxed. It almost seemed as if he were in a seated slumber. This was quite far from the truth. Kiusu was keenly aware of his environment, even more so than most conscious people. On the ground before him was a curved shortsword that glistened its perfection.

  Kiusu was not one to use weapons. He was a peaceful man who preferred any means but violence to solve his problems. Of course, some problems brought violence with them, and Kiusu was no fool. Should he have to defend himself against such violence, he could do so more competently than any other warrior he had ever met, aside from his own master. And despite the fact that he preferred to use his hands when doing so, he also understood the benefit and enjoyed the challenge of working with weapons.

  The shortsword lying before him was his favorite weapon after his hands and feet. It had been his first and only sword his entire life, and though he had carried his share of staves, knives, throwing daggers, and a host of other weapons, it was this sword that had seen him through countless battles. There were many times in his youth that he had been called upon to defend himself and others, and during those times he had forged a strong relationship with his sword. Whenever he drew it, the sword became an extension of him, and he could handle it more deftly than any swordsman.

  None of these things passed through Kiusu's mind now. Early on in his training he had learned to empty his head of thoughts, but it had taken him many years to learn how to keep those thoughts out, he could now sit for hours, even days, in this meditative state. This time, however, Kiusu's mind was not completely empty. He was focusing. Though his eyes were closed, he could see as well as if they were open. More accurately, he could feel every detail of his surroundings. The leaves, the trees, his sword, he could feel each of these in relation to his position, to the point where he knew the tempo of the branches swaying in the breeze.

  His hand came up, and his fingers reached. In a flash his sword was there, held firmly by his now closed fingers. But Kiusu had never actually touched the sword. The weapon had just shot up as though propelled by some unseen force. The old man opened his eyes and smiled. This was an easier task than the one that had stolen his strength for a week. This time Kiusu had decided to start out more slowly. Reaching out with his concentration, the powerful master had coaxed his environment to bring the sword to him.

  Kiusu gently placed the sword before him again and straightened. He reached again, and again the sword flashed into his waiting palm. Satisfied with his progress, the old man nodded and stood. Sheathing his weapon, he headed back toward his hut. He would have liked to celebrate and congratulate himself, but he still had some work to do.

  Not wanting to wear himself out again, Kiusu decided he would get some manual labor done over the next several days. He had always kept up on his meditation, but he had not performed such feats in a while. He would have never believed that using his mind in this way would prove so difficult after so many years. He realized that knowing the process of these preternatural abilities was not the same as putting them to use. He understood now the mind's muscular nature. It had to be worked out and exercised every day, just like the rest of his body.

  These facts did not come as much of a surprise to Kiusu, but they were things he had never paid attention to in his younger days. Manipulating the environment with his mind had always come so easily to him all those years ago. After he had come out to the mountains, though, he never found much use for these talents, so he let them go unpracticed, believing that his daily meditations would keep his mind sharp enough should he ever need to call on them again. It never ceased to amaze Kiusu that, despite his age and all he had learned and seen in his lifetime, he still dis
covered new things every day.

  As he approached his hut he reminded himself that such was the nature of life. From birth to death everyone learns and grows every day. Kiusu was certain that this must be life's purpose, as it was the one defining constant of living. No matter what any man or woman does throughout life, no matter what day or season, there was always something to be learned. The old master grinned to himself at this. It was an idea he had carried with him throughout many years. He felt it was a secret inspiration passed to him from nature. He would gladly tell any man who asked him about it, but he believed most would be confused by it. His fellow humans seemed to him too eager to find the quickest answer, and so, if they felt they had to ask what the purpose of life was, then they were doomed to fail to understand it.

  Kiusu arrived at his door and, instead of going inside, bent over and picked up his two buckets in one hand and his staff in the other. Sunset would be approaching soon, and he wanted some water to clean up and make supper. He headed off toward a nearby mountain stream, musing as he went about his success today and about life in general.

  7. The Aggressor

  Thontur, the largest mountain of the Ikiu'iu chain, cast a looming shadow over the field in the morning sun. It was under this shadow that the soldiers of the Ionotu valley trained for battle. King Orbein stood sweeping a steely gaze over his troops, casting a different kind of shadow over the valley. He watched the men as they sparred. From what the king could see, the soldiers appeared to be holding little back against their comrades. Closest to him, one man let his fist fly, dagger clenched in hand. It connected with his opponent's jaw, and blood flew several feet. Fortunately, most of them practiced in full armor, a thick hide arranged in overlapping scales.

  Orbein chuckled. As he turned to view a different match, he noticed the general making his way across the field toward him. Orbein smiled to himself and looked the field over again, making a note to congratulate him on his good work. As he did so, he caught sight of Laernus shuffling toward him from the other side of the field. The king saw that his seer skirted around the fighting, giving the soldiers a wide berth.