Chronicles of Galadria III - Lessons Read online

  “Tell me, Glaide... When you were asking me if your values would be compatible with the power you’ll wield, I asked myself about the origins of your choices. In your world, are values taught? Or do you choose them for yourself?”

  The boy sighed. He didn’t enjoy talking about his old life, but at the same time, he knew that Kezthrem was trying to learn as much about him as possible. In a neutral voice—since he hoped that would somehow make him speak more objectively—he began.

  “Well, I guess I chose to place value on some things and not on others because of my own personal experiences. Friendship, for example, has always been important in my life, so I value it implicitly. However, I’ve never placed much value on money; I only need enough to live off of. For some people, this concept would be completely unimaginable, but in the end, everyone chooses the values that they think are most worth defending. Unfortunately, I’ve also encountered people who are incapable of making their own choices. They need someone to guide them, someone to show them what is best for them. The problem with that is that their guide often acts in his own interests, leading others to follow in futile footsteps, and to follow values that I, at least, think are useless in real life.”

  “And what would you consider useful?” asked the man, visibly interested.

  “Hmm...” Glaide murmured, reflecting on the question for a moment. “I guess values that support and protect nature and its beauty, everything that helps us find real happiness, and most importantly, things that let us elevate ourselves above the human condition, since we are naturally slaves to our bodies, and tortured by our minds. But I certainly don’t place value on all of the consumerism that tears my world apart, and yet attracts so many people!”

  Kezthrem chuckled.

  “Your view of the world is very pessimistic!”

  “Perhaps it is,” admitted the young man. “But you have to understand that for some people, money’s no longer a means, but an end. They live for it. I find that idea so revolting that I want to reject everything that they find attractive. I know that’s impossible, because there are some things you have to buy to live, but I don’t want to be trapped by honeyed words, and I would rather live closer to nature. That sounds perfectly... natural to me!”

  “So then, money is no longer a means, but an end...” Kezthrem repeated thoughtfully. “That’s an idea to think on.”

  “Whatever the case, master,” continued the young man, “I know that I don’t hold the secrets to life. Like you said, the important thing is that every man live the life they choose for themselves, even if their choices seem pointless or illusory to others. But, to go back to your question, I also want to point out that some countries are governed by dictators, and the inhabitants have no choice in any number of things, such as the wars they are drawn into.”

  “Wars that pit humans against humans.”

  Glaide nodded, jumped over a log on the path, then continued.

  “In the end, for them, it’s not a question of whether the battles are just or not. They must simply obey, and confront the designated adversaries. And what’s worse, over time, the enemies of one day become the allies of another, and vice versa, so that in the end, it comes to nothing anyway.”

  “But it’s the role of the army, and the soldiers within it, to obey without asking the whys and wherefores, or even if their actions are just, because no one can perfectly define justice. As you’ve said, some choose the adversaries, others fight them, and in the end, life goes on, and the times change.”

  Glaide sighed and took a moment to look at the natural beauty around them. He could hear a bird singing in the distance. Their path began to slope downward then, and to the right, the trail was bordered by a much steeper drop-off, getting steeper by the minute as the edge of the hill disappeared into a deep ravine that appeared to lead to a clearing. Perhaps this hill was larger than it had looked at first glance. The adolescent continued to speak.

  “As I said before, there are six billion people on Earth, and so of course, some values lie in opposition to those of other people. Many people are tolerant of other points of view, or of choices that seem wrong to them at first glance, because they understand that we don’t all come from a single culture, and those cultural differences can sometimes be incredible. It would be a bit like if here, in the Known Lands, the people of Shinozuka had a tradition of throwing a huge celebration on a specific day, and if the people of Adrish had consecrated the same day to meditation and silence. Despite the opposition in these two ideas, they can both be right. And of course, on Earth, these different points of view are often separated by thousands of miles of distance. And at the same time, you can find differences like this even within one’s own country.”

  “You’re all very diverse, then,” declared Kezthrem.

  “Exactly. And those differences are the source of most conflicts. Misunderstandings between cultures, wanting to dominate another culture or impose your ideas, or wanting to stand out. Everything that makes humanity great, also contributes to its weakness and guilt.”

  “In the face of such a situation, it seems like it would be difficult for a Destroyer to exist, because he would have to defend values that were shared by some, but not others,” concluded the older man.

  “That’s true,” admitted the boy. “I hadn’t really thought about it like that.”

  They had reached the other side of the hill by that time. Once more, a day had passed rapidly by. Glaide had now been with his master for four months, but the time always seemed to pass by quickly. They saw each other every day, and still the young man didn’t want to leave the side of his companion, especially now, since in the last few days they’d finally had time to talk.

  The moon was full that evening, and it was easy to find a hill with a welcoming summit. Taller than the others, the butte they chose offered a breathtaking view of its surroundings, so that they could even make out the mountains encircling Ojilon in the distance, along with a fog-covered, indistinct darkness which could easily belong to Oclin-Fer or the forest, given the immense size of it. Glaide settled in against the slope so that he could look at both the sky and the ground below without risking a stiff neck. Kezthrem settled in beside him, seeming to appreciate Glaide’s choice of angles.

  Chapter 5

  TWO days later, and a little after midday, the two travelers were discussing the different weapons and the best ways to use each of them. By this time, their path had forked off several times so that they now found themselves on a dirt path traveling across a rocky plateau, which was covered with luxurious vegetation, broken up regularly by clearings.

  The master and his disciple had come across a number of old ruins, and the stone that they were made up of looked ancient. Sometimes, they would spot a few steps that made up part of a proper tower, and at other times, they would find great rooms, open to the sky, and with only parts of the walls remaining. Kezthrem could not date the remnants, which Glaide thought were a well-fitting and poetic part of this silent place, whose quiet seemed well-suited to the roles the structures had once had, the lives of their people, and the reasons for their disappearance. He hoped one day, Rackk would take on an air of the mythic like these ruins.

  While before, they had been immersed in deep silence, entirely alone, they now, suddenly, began to make out sounds of movement around them. They drew their swords together, to show that they were armed. That action alone seemed to work, because the sounds faded into the distance, then disappeared without any creature attacking them. Glaide and Kezthrem didn’t resheath their swords when the sounds receded though, and they prudently decided to continue their advancement in almost complete silence. Their sacks hindered their movements, but as they couldn’t leave them behind, they hung onto them and continued on their way, though more slowly than they could have without them.

  After about a quarter of an hour, they still had yet to encounter anyone—or anything—whatsoever at all. Just as they were about to put away their weapons, however, a clamo
ur reached their ears; a fight was taking place nearby, and from the noises filling the air, it had to be a veritable battle.

  The master and his disciple understood then what had been happening before: the noises they’d heard had indeed been monsters, but they had not been after the two of them. Instead, they’d been preparing to launch an assault on other travelers. The adolescent felt relieved, because that meant that Baras had indeed lost track of him. It had now been four months since he’d made his presence known, and though the young man was traveling in the open now, his enemy didn’t seem to be giving chase.

  Glaide joyfully followed his master toward the battle, thrilled to throw in with the others. He was certain that this time, he wouldn’t show weakness, because he would have people to protect; that alone would suffice to prevent him from failing. However, things didn’t happen exactly the way they expected. Before the two arrived at the sides of the innocents, they found themselves crossing paths with enemy reinforcements. There were many orks, as usual, as well as a number of satyrs.

  “There have to be more than a dozen,” Glaide estimated to himself. “Am I actually capable of fighting against them? Kezthrem seems to think so...” Whatever the case, the older man pushed toward the orks, leaving most of the work to his disciple. The young man took his sword firmly in his hands and shifted into his battle stance. The two couldn’t immediately contain the flux of enemies, and some of them moved on to join their allies in the battle further away. Seeing that, Glaide decided he needed to get ahead of things and threw himself directly into the battle, doing his best to monopolize the attention of the majority of their adversaries. Kezthrem had already launched into the carnage.

  The satyrs used staffs, but the wood seemed old and a bit rotten, because the young man broke several without much effort. He took care not to become surrounded and did his best to attack first, so he didn’t have to submit to the assaults of his adversaries, superior in number. After a few minutes, he heard the distant voice of his master, who said he was going to move ahead to join the unfortunate travelers and lend them a hand. Glaide didn’t pay much attention though, instead keeping his concentration centered wholly on his adversaries.

  He managed to block most of their attacks, because his enemies were weaker than he, but since they were also much more agile than he was, he didn’t dare risk dodging away. Methodically, without panicking, and in a long and grueling fight, he found victory, made all the more exciting because he had fought alone.

  He glanced around, taking in the carnage. For the first time, the spilled blood and the occasional severed, bleeding limb made him nauseous. He looked away, and called for his master. The reply came from close by. The young man headed in that direction, reminding himself that he’d never really looked at the bodies after a battle before. He’d always fought, killed, and simply moved on. But, just like in other situations, recently he was taking notice of what he was really doing: killing. This was not a game, it was reality—the reality of this world. The lives that he took would not return, and a body that fell would never rise again.

  Even though these monsters he was fighting lived only to destroy, Glaide couldn’t see them in the same light that he had when he’d first come, when battle seemed like virtual reality. Every day that passed, he came to realize and understand a little better that he was truly living in another world.

  The surrounding woods were relatively overgrown, and the young man moved forward purely by the sound of the voices in the distance, though that became easier as he steadily drew nearer and nearer. Finally, he pushed past a particularly dense spot and pressed into a clearing. There, he could see the travelers who’d been attacked, and who made up quite a group.

  There were five men, who presented themselves as merchants traveling to Vlatendire, a village situated to the north of Ojilon, where they hoped to stock up on merchandise. There was also a magg along with her protector, and three other warriors. They were charged with escorting a middle-aged man who seemed to be a monk, and who was carrying a small box whose contents were apparently coveted by the enemy.

  The second group had come across the merchants and chosen to travel with them, hoping that would make them less conspicuous. In the end, however, they’d simply put the others in danger, too, so that the five merchants preferred to continue on their way alone. In a few minutes, they’d left, and Glaide turned his attention to the remainder of the group.

  According to them, they were all protectors of the magg before him. They seemed older than Glaide, but what drew his attention the most was the composition of the group. Besides the magician, there was another girl who was a combatant. The adolescent had seen her sheath two tantos—Japanese-style daggers—and it seemed she knew how to use them. The official protector fought with a sword, but unlike Glaide’s, his was a long, curved scimitar. The two others were armed with a staff for the one, and bare hands for the other. The latter wore gloves covered in metal plating, where sharp points and other accessories could be attached.

  Glaide and Kezthrem decided to remain with their chance companions for the night. The disciple looked forward to getting to know the young people, since he saw in them what he wished he, his friends from Earth, and the future friends he’d one day make in this world would become. His companion, on the other hand, wished to speak with the monk, and learn about the mysterious box.

  A few more hours remained before daylight would completely disappear, so they took the opportunity to make their introductions while continuing to walk a bit farther. The magg, Selma, and her curved-sword-bearing protector Thane had known each other since they were children. She had arrived in his village when she was only two or three, and they had always gotten along well. The young man with the staff had also long been friends with the two, and had decided to go with them when they left to find adventure. The other two were chance companions from the road. In the end, the only thing all of the members of the eclectic group had in common was that they had all agreed to act as protectors.

  Then, it was Kezthrem and Glaide’s turn to introduce themselves. They mentioned their Iretane training, but without adding that the young man was a protector without his magg, or that he was the Destroyer. Despite the evasiveness of their answers, the members of the group asked no questions.

  Koeris, the monk, explained that he had been on an expedition, accompanied by the young people, to some ruins much like the ones they were traveling through now, but further to the south. There, he had located the box, which had been remarkably well-preserved. The man lived in a temple to the east, between Oclin-Fer and the forest. Hearing that, Glaide recalled the destination his master had described a few days earlier. Could that temple be the place they were headed? The young man kept his thoughts to himself, though, intending to wait and discuss the matter with his master alone. The monk, on the other hand, promised to reveal the contents of his box later that evening.

  Soon, evening arrived. After a quick debate, they decided to light a campfire. Though that would make the group more visible to the enemy, should any of them pass nearby, the number of warriors present would certainly guarantee the safety of the monk. The master and his disciple added some of their own food to the food the rest of the group shared, and everyone dug in hungrily.

  “So, Koeris,” began Kezthrem, once everyone was settled in comfortably. “Do you come from the temple of Aras, then? That’s where my disciple and I are headed.”

  Glaide’s heart skipped a beat at hearing that. So he’d been right! He and his master were headed to a sacred place, and more than that, a place of worship for a nearly-forgotten god. The adolescent thought that was probably the very last temple where Aras was worshipped. Up until then, apart from the dwarves and the dragon, only the gypsies had said much about him, and as they had explained, few humans still believed in Aras. He remembered then that Kezthrem had also mentioned the boy might learn something more about the katana of Dzen, which had been given as a gift to Novak.

  “Actually,” he thought
to himself, “It’s even possible that that is what the box contains. No, that’s impossible. The size isn’t right...” The box couldn’t be more than a foot long, maybe eight inches wide, and only a few deep, while a katana would be nearly a yard long.

  “Perhaps we could accompany you the rest of the way to your destination?” Kezthrem proposed. “If no one objects, of course.”

  “I can’t see any reason why that would be a problem,” replied Koeris. “And in that case, perhaps these young people could continue on their own way, then. They’ve been obliged to accompany me for almost a month now, and I’m sure they have other things they’d rather be doing.”

  “Don’t worry about us,” replied Selma. “We promised to keep you safe, and we will do what we promised.”

  “Wait, wait,” exclaimed the warrior with the staff. “We did promise, that’s true. But if these two are already headed the same direction as Koeris, there would be no harm in leaving him in their care, would there?”

  “No, I agree with Selma,” began Thane. “Who knows what Baras has in store for us? Perhaps two will not be enough. I understand what you want to say Linar, because I’d also like to continue our travels, but we cannot risk this quest failing so close to its completion.”

  Linar nodded slowly, convinced, at least for the moment. The other two protectors had yet to move or open their mouths.

  “Would it be possible for my master and I to learn what is in this box that is so coveted, before deciding if it would be better to be many or a few?” Glaide proposed.