The Wrathful Mountains (13 page)

“It’s too late to
change the past,” Kaiya finally said. “Now we must find a way to preserve the
future.”
Before there is no future to preserve,
she silently added.

“I risked my
eternal soul by waking this god,” Tashi said. “I will accept its wrath upon
myself in the hope that it will spare the world. I have no magic to offer you, but
I beg you to let me help make this right.”

“I don’t know if I
have the power either,” Kaiya admitted.

“Only the gods have
true power,” Tashi replied, but then corrected herself. “Had power, or maybe
they never did. Either way, they will not answer my prayers.”

“I’ve never put
much store in gods,” the sorceress replied. “But I promise you this: I will
fight this beast with every ounce of strength in my body, and every drop of
magic the wind can produce.”

A
lone, Kaiya
trekked nearly a mile through the rough terrain, searching for a suitable
location. All must be silent if she was to meditate properly. No hammers
ringing, no children’s voices. This was far too important an issue for her to
misunderstand.

Choosing a suitable
spot in the presence of an evergreen, Kaiya took a seat on the soft earth that
luckily was clear of snow. Crossing her legs, she found them surprisingly sore.
The wind had healed her cuts and bruises, but the effects of her depletion
still lingered. Taking a few deep breaths, she attempted to comfort and calm
herself.

Turning her face
skyward, she pondered the blue of the heavens. Soft, white clouds strolled
lazily by, carried on a wind so pure, she desired to travel alongside them.
Focusing only on the blue, she pushed away thoughts of the evil that threatened
to rise, as well as her own self-doubt.

The wind was
ancient, born before time itself. It had witnessed the rise and fall of
civilizations, the formation of all Nōl’Deron. Along with fire, water, and
earth, it had assisted the Ancients in shaping this world. It knew the Gawr
from its inception. If it did not know a way to stop this creature, then all
would be lost.

Continuing her deep
breaths, she trained herself to inhale quickly while drawing out her
exhalation. A calm settled over her mind, only one thought brimming to the
surface.

Show me the way.

Obliging its
mistress, the wind obeyed, a vision descending into the sorceress’s mind.
Images so clear, she felt as if she had seen them with her own eyes played out
before her, time moving backward until she could barely recognize the
landscape.

A world of rock, fire at its center, took shape as
she bore witness. No life-forms were present, not even the smallest hint of
green, but still she sensed a presence. There was a life here, the same one she
had felt in her earlier vision, the one that she had felt in the mines.

A sky filled with stars, the occasional streak of
fire darting across the blackness filled the sorceress with wonder. Varied
colors of swirling mists painted the night sky, colors she had never seen
before. Feeling that she’d stepped onto another world, she could do no more
than watch in awe.

A blinding flash of light changed the scene before
her. In place of the Wrathful Mountains stood a volcano, smoke and flame
belching from its center. Feeling herself perspire beneath the oppressive heat,
Kaiya fought against her discomfort. In the distance, she spotted what must
have been the ocean, steam rising from its surface. The water level was
surprisingly high, but this was history far beyond what was written. Only the
Ancients could know what the world was like at this point.

Slowly she adjusted to the heat, her mind clearing
enough to reach out. There, in the fiery center of the volcano, lived the Gawr.
Here it seemed content, almost complacent. There was no anger, but there was
hatred. Without warning, the ground shook beneath her feet, the volcano spewing
ash. A violent earthquake ravaged the hillside, deep crags ripping across the
landscape. Seconds later, all was covered in dust. Instinctively she coughed
and held up her arm to shield her eyes.

Another burst of light turned the page on her vision,
transporting her to a snow-capped mountain. The exact opposite of the land
she’d just witnessed, this place was extremely cold. A thick coat of ice
entombed all she could see, a chilled wind stinging her face. Still the Gawr
made itself known. A low rumbling gave way to great cracks in the ice, massive
chunks falling away to form glaciers of blue and white. Her breath caught in
her chest as she witnessed the rise of the mountain, the earth beneath it reaching
ever higher, thrusting the summit toward the sky.

Before the sight could overwhelm her, a silver
light flared, bringing yet another change. This time people stood before her,
the wind whispering one word: Ancients. Tall and slender, with a strong
resemblance to Galen’s people, stood four figures radiating immense power. It
was now obvious why the Westerling Elves referred to themselves as the First
Ones. There could be no doubt they had descended from the Ancients, the first
to be created by their glorious hands. A yearning settled into her heart as she
desired to know these people better.

I wish to speak with them,
she projected on
the wind.

It isn’t possible,
came the reply.

Kaiya grunted in frustration. Even the wind had
its limits. It could not transport her through time. This was only a vision; the
Ancients weren’t really standing before her. A bitter disappointment tasted on
her tongue, tears welling in her eyes. These people had the answer she sought,
but how would she coax it from them if she couldn’t speak to them?

Patience,
the wind reminded her.

Watching the scene play out, Kaiya felt a renewed
sense of peace. Yes, the Gawr was still present, but it was somewhere in the
background, all but forgotten. One of the Ancients, a male with white hair,
gazed at the ground. As she pondered what he might be doing, she caught the
scent of a soft rainfall. To her surprise, the Ancients took no shelter, but she
had to resist the instinct for herself. Though she was quite dry, it still
hadn’t fully registered that she was only a witness to the scene, not a part of
it.

The white-haired Ancient continued to stare at the
ground, no words escaping his lips. With thought alone, he brought forth green
sprouts, which shot up to his own height within seconds. Taking the form of
evergreens, proud and strong, they ascended toward the heavens, their needled
arms reaching out in all directions. Amazed, she wondered if any of these trees
still existed. Surely time could not undo such wonders.

A woman with raven hair that tumbled to her ankles
stood in the background, her arms waving delicately, mimicking the flight of a
bird. Through her motion, streams began to form. A mere trickle at first, they
expanded, gliding down the mountainside before diving over the edges. Pristine
waterfalls gave life to the rivers below, their lush waters flowing toward
eternity.

The sight was too much for the sorceress, and she
wept but did not avert her gaze. Such beauty was not meant for her eyes, but
the wind had granted her this gift. The daughter of a farmer, she had always
loved and respected the land. But seeing its creation, and feeling the love in
the hearts of its creators, was an experience like no other.

Gently the wind dried her tears, its unseen hands
wrapping her in their warmth. She steadied herself, knowing what was to come.
There was still more to see, and this scene had reached its end. A burst of
white light moved her forward in time, the world transforming to a state of
chaos.

A wave of shock traveled through her as her mind
registered the horrific scene. How could such beauty come to complete
destruction? What power could have done this? Immediately the presence of the
Gawr announced itself. Its voice shouting, fire spewing from its open mouth. An
indescribably joy emanated from the vile creature as it reveled in the carnage.

Kaiya attempted to close her eyes, hoping to block
out the scene in front of her, but the wind would not allow it. She must
witness things as it had seen them if she was to understand. The truth could
not be denied.

Flames spread over the once-green forests, the
massive trees brought to life by the Ancients fell victim to the Gawr, consumed
in its raging fire. Furred creatures darted from their hiding places,
desperately trying to outrun the inferno. She could not count the number that
did not make it. Birds fled above her, forced from their nests by the rising
smoke, their chicks left unprotected and helpless. Her mouth went dry, the
taste of ash assaulting her tongue.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Kaiya tried to
force the image to change. This was more than she could bear, her heart
breaking, the pain traveling throughout every vein. And still the Gawr
projected its immense delight. A cry of pure ecstasy issued from its lungs.

Bracing herself against the shuddering of the
ground, Kaiya barely managed to stay upright. The shaking was more intense than
before, rocks falling loose and tumbling in every direction. Great clouds of
gray dust swirled on the wind, clouding her vision. With her hand held above
her eyes, she strained to see what appeared before her.

Misshapen forms emerged from the rubble, some on
two legs, some on four or more. Her heart leapt to her throat as her mind raced
to devise a plan of action.

Far too many beasts appeared, more than she could
handle alone. None of them took notice of the sorceress.
I’m not really
here,
she reminded herself. They passed by her, no trace of malice in them
at all. There was nothing left for them to destroy.

The dust began to clear, but not before tickling
the delicate hairs inside Kaiya’s nostrils. Wiggling her nose, she expected to
sneeze but didn’t. Instead the dust settled, and all became still. Unnerved,
Kaiya wondered why the scene had not changed.

Again the rumbling returned, this time accompanied
by a sharper noise, as if the world were splitting into pieces. Chunks of the
mountain plummeted down the cliffside, racing toward her. Rooted to the spot,
her feet as heavy as lead, she could not move out of the way. Instinctively, she
reached for her magic, attempting to reroute the boulders. Silver magic flew
from her fingertips, but the rocks did not obey.

Holding her breath, she braced herself for impact.
The boulder passed through her, causing her no harm. Doubling over with relief,
she felt the wind in her hair.
You’re not in any danger,
she scolded
herself, redness creeping into her cheeks.
This is the wind’s memory.
Apparently
she still needed to convince herself. The scenes were all too real.

Floating on the wind’s embrace, Kaiya welcomed the
flash of light that put an end to the ghastly scene. Once again life teemed in
the mountains, the Ancients standing before her. Two women and one man stood
engrossed in conversation. The same white-haired man and raven-haired woman
were accompanied by a second female. Her dark hair was cropped short, but her
face was strikingly similar to the raven-haired Ancient. Kaiya decided the two
had to be sisters.

“We must take action, Elnar,” the short-haired
woman insisted.

“The stone giant is too dangerous,” Elnar, the
white-haired man, replied.

“What say you, Tienna?” the short-haired woman
asked.

“The only action we can take is to correct the
destruction the Gawr has brought to this land.” Tienna’s voice was full of
sorrow, her eyes averted to the ground.

“We’ll have to do so every time he wakes,” the short-haired
woman replied. “That leaves little time for anything else. We must act!”

“We cannot change the Gawr’s nature, Zarla,”
Tienna said, her voice full of regret. “It must do as its nature insists. It
cannot change what it is.”

“Unacceptable,” Zarla replied.

“The Gawr is a jealous beast,” Elnar said. “It
wishes to create but has only the ability to destroy. That’s why all of its
attempts at creation take the form of misshapen monsters.”

“And if it has its way, it will fill the world
with those abominations,” Zarla added.

Kaiya knew to which creatures the Ancients
referred. The rock beasts were unnatural, crafted by the destroyer.

“As long as we allow it to exist, it will continue
to unleash this horror,” Zarla went on. With a wave of her hand, she drew their
attention to the ruination all around. Trees stripped bare of green lay dying
upon a field of rubble; no song of birds sounded from the skies. All life had
been lost to the malice of the Gawr. “All we have created will perish in time.
We must stop this.”

“We cannot,” Elnar replied. “It is not in our
nature to destroy, even one such as the Gawr.”

“I will not sit by while this happens again and again,”
Zarla warned, her visage darkening.

Tienna stepped forward, gently taking her sister’s
hand. “The Gawr must rest,” she said, her voice a song upon the wind. “I shall
sing him to sleep, but he will not remain that way. Others will have to maintain
the spell, or the cycle of destruction and rebirth will continue.”

Zarla nodded her agreement as did Elnar. The trio
joined hands, Tienna turning her face to the heavens. Kaiya focused her full
attention to the raven-haired Ancient, determined to commit her song to memory.

A lullaby found its way to the sorceress’s ears—a
strange, unintelligible song. Such language Kaiya had never heard, nor could
she imagine herself being able to vocalize such sounds. Was this the language
of the Ancients? Notes rose and fell, some of them too high for the dwarf to comprehend.
Stifling a cry of frustration in her throat, she clenched her fists and turned
to her magic, but she knew no spell that could capture a song.

Keep watching
the wind whispered. Kaiya
obeyed.

All fell silent as the song ended, the image of
the Ancients fading into darkness. Tienna and Zarla appeared, and behind them
stood several Ulihi. Kaiya could not hear what the Ancients said to them, but
they appeared enraptured by their presence. A priestess in a beaded headdress
stepped forward, taking Tienna by the hand, while Zarla drew lines on the
ground with a silver beam of magic. Kneeling down together, the Ancients traced
the three distinct symbols drawn into the dust, carefully explaining each to
the priestess.

Kaiya strained her eyes to see the lines more
clearly. They glistened in a multitude of hues before settling permanently to a
deep shade of red. Magic shimmered upon the runes, the images burning
themselves into Kaiya’s memory. It was not the song she needed to remember, but
the runes.