“Hope and faith can be the greatest of all motivators. However, they are also the most difficult of securities to provide. It was not long ago that Arman held me in his arms, and in them I felt safe and secure.
Now it falls upon me to provide my bosom to instil that same security in my people. I only hope that I do not fail them.”
The farm was sickeningly quiet, with not a sound of life to be heard, not even the sound of crickets. The metallic stain of blood was thick in the air, filling Vartan's nostrils and making him sick to his stomach. On the horizon, Greenhaven continued to burn brightly into the dark sky, like a lighthouse for flying travellers.
He gripped his still-sheathed sword, and took carefully placed steps towards his family porch. As he neared the family rocking chair, the smell of blood grew stronger and more pungent.
He closed his eyes tightly and whispered, “ Persentiscam lucem et veritatem.” The spell took effect and reptilian eyes flickered open, darting from side to side and turning his vision of night into day. The large pool of blood on the chair was suddenly clear in his vision, snaking its way under the door in thick clots and streaks.
“Father!” exclaimed Vartan as he drew his sword and kicked the door in with furious intent.
Inside, the farmhouse was almost completely darkened, with the exception of small red embers still glowing in the fireplace.
His voice strained as he yelled frantically, “Father, mother-where are you?”
Running through the house, he followed the trail of blood drops up the narrow stairwell. He stopped in his tracks on the stairs as he spotted the crudely placed writing along the wall.
“ Now who’s the pathetic one, little boy? You couldn’t even save your family. With lots of love, Kassina, ” read Vartan. The writing felt wet to the touch, and as he brought his fingers to his nose, he confirmed what she had used to write the message.
“No!” he screamed as he ran to the slightly ajar door of his parents’ bedroom, pressing his back against the wall beside the door. Peering around the corner with the tip of his sword pointing his way forward, he braced for the inevitable. There was a light breeze that blew through the opening, and a strange creaking sound came from within. The stench overwhelmed him as the door gently opened to his touch.
A t the sight of what awaited him within, Vartan dropped to his knees. Two corpses hung by their necks, suspended from the ceiling on a pair of nooses; the creaking was of ropes that strained as the bodies swung in the wind from the open windows. Both had been flayed. Judging by the vicious damage to their arms and the scratch marks on the walls, they were very likely to have been alive when they were skinned.
The putrid stench overwhelmed Vartan’s senses, and he vomited all over the floor. He put his head in his hands and collapsed.
“Damn you, Kassina, you bitch!” he sobbed. “As I live and breathe… your life will end by my hand!”
The distant sound of thunder filled the air and flashes of lightning erupted under the dark canopy of clouds. The majestic sight of dragons in full formation was marred only by the heavy crates of weapons grasped in their claws. The rain washed over their scales, the light reflecting off their watery forms with every flash. Karven and Nymira led the dragons in their flight, and they carried Vartan with the remainder of the treasure.
“Vartan! Vartan!” cried Nymira’s voice.
He jerked up as he woke and smashed his head hard into Nymira’s belly. He rubbed his head in pain from the collision.
“My goodness, Vartan, what's wrong?” she asked.
“No! I was too late, I should have saved them!” he growled. “Mother… father… that fanged whore, Kassina! What I wouldn’t do to that disgusting creature to rid the world of her.”
“Whatever gives you the idea that they have been killed? Did you have another vision?” asked Karven.
Vartan quietened his voice and asked gently, hopefully, “You mean to suggest that they might still be alive?”
Nymira's voice filled the night sky. “As your training progresses and your experience grows, your visions will come to you with greater purpose. Unfortunately, not even we can place the time a vision has taken place. It may have occurred in the past, the present, or the future. There are also alternate fates as you choose a direction at a crossroads, and any of those paths can be envisioned. If your parents truly are in danger, then there is no guarantee that we can save them in time to change that possible fate. Then again, you may simply have had a nightmare and it may not be a vision at all."
“Are you serious? How do you ever make sense of it all?” asked Vartan, rubbing his hands through his hair.
“I understand your frustrations,” replied Karven. “Really, I do. Visions are something that even we struggle to master, but it does get easier with time.”
“We must head to the farm and make sure that my parents are okay!” pleaded Vartan. “After all, they are of dragon's blood. Nymira, I beg of you- please take me home, and we can regroup back at Veldrenn.”
“As you wish, Vartan, but you should remember that we are far from your home. You’d better prepare yourself as best you can for what we may find there.” Nymira broke formation to head in the direction of Greenhaven.
“Thank you for your understanding, Nymira. We must at least try to save them if they are still alive, or I’d never be able to forgive myself,” replied Vartan.
“I truly understand, and I will do what I can to protect you in your journey, no matter what we face,” she said.
Vartan breathed deeply and tried his best to calm his wrecked nerves. He thought back to the farm, of happier times before the war… before life became so horribly complicated. He suddenly realised that his pack had fallen over in Nymira’s claws and the trader’s bag had almost fallen out.
"I had better clean this up," he mumbled. Carefully, he opened the bag to look for the artefacts from the trader in She’Ma’Ryn. He fumbled inside and retrieved the first shiny artefact, twisting it around in front if his face It looked like a metallic golden egg, which was generously covered in various jewels. It was obvious to the eye that it could be opened in the middle.
Laughing to himself, he tried to force it open. No matter how hard Vartan worked to prise it open, it remained firmly shut.
I suppose this one is not for me, he thought.
Vartan reluctantly returned the egg back to the bag and resumed his exploration of the artefacts. The second one he retrieved was attached to a long and shiny silver chain. At the end of the chain was a woman’s face, naturally formed in what looked like half a pearl set in a golden star. It was covered with strange engraved markings Vartan did not recognize. What amazed Vartan the most was that it appeared to emit its own light as it sparkled and lit up Nymira’s belly like a starry night.
What a fascinating piece of jewellery. I should probably wear this so I don’t lose it, thought Vartan.
As he reached for the clip, it let off a slight hiss as it opened.
My goodness, that is strange, he thought as he shrugged it off and clipped the necklace onto his neck. The chain let out a watery sound, and he felt its weight fall heavily on the back of his neck. Vartan tried to open the necklace again, but no matter where he searched on the clip, it felt solid and he could not find an opening.
“Great. Now look what I’ve gone and done. Who knows who this was intended for,” he sighed. He rested his arms on his knees.
Oh please, don’t get so upset over it, replied a woman’s voice in his mind. I’m sure we can get along just fine.
Vartan almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden loud voice.
“Nymira, are you playing games with me?” said Vartan. “This is hardly the time. Don’t be so loud, we don’t want the whole world to hear us!”
“Vartan, I have no idea what you are talking about. I haven’t said a word,” she replied.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Just what I need-another voice in my head, thought Vartan.
He raised the necklace to his face and found an odd surprise. The face in the star now looked like it had human skin and features. The woman’s image stared at him oddly and raised an eyebrow.
No, I’m not kidding you, she said. Her voice sounded like a blend of human and animal tones. You seriously use that word in conversation? ‘Kidding?’ Vartan is your name? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Keturah… I'm obviously not from around here, and I certainly do not come here often. But it appears that you and I are bonded together. Well, at least until the time of your death.
Oh, that’s reassuring. How come nobody else can hear you? And why is your voice unlike any other in this world?
I can tell this is going to be a long night, young one, and I was not created with the intent to be reassuring. That would be the job of a Faith Talisman. I am a Truth Pendant, made by the highest order of wizards, and my job is exactly that-to seek out the truth. As to why nobody else can hear me, well, that is quite obvious, is it not?
I see you have been blessed with the power of sarcasm, Vartan replied.
My dear, what good would a Truth Pendant be if everyone could hear it? You are the only one who is able to hear me, as my magic is bonded to you. The pendant requires a living soul as part of its creation. Before you ask, at one time I was indeed alive like you are now, but this is what fate has intended for both of us. Now, tell me about you.
Well, began Vartan, since we are obviously stuck together-
That is observant of you, Vartan. Any other moments of genius you would like to share?
Well aren't you a delightful soul, he replied, laughing silently. I can see that this will be a long night indeed. Let me start from the beginning.