Bertan`s quest by Michelle Tarynne (ereader android .txt) 📕

"Mars, how long are we going to travel like this?" she inquired

"Like what?"

"In boats."

"A bit longer. We still haven't even reached the halfway point," Mars answered. Groans of unhappiness came out of every boat.

"Really?" Pam asked genuinely disappointed.

"Yes," he admitted.

"I'm hungry, and I can't eat in darkness," she sniffed.

"Haven't any of you taken any light?" Mars asked truly baffled.

"We were warned by the High Vaala not to do that," the Commander said stiffly few boats away.

"Yes," Mars sniggered, "I can actually see why she would tell you that. I just can't imagine any of the Seekinglanders listening to any authority figures."

"Why wouldn't we?" Coope asked clearly intrigued.

"Ah, it's a story for another time," Mars said way too quickly not to wake the curiosity of the siblings even more. "There should be a few stones at the bottom of each boat. Grab it and hold for a while," he sighed heavily.

"Why?" Pam asked again.

"Those are Tarn stones," Mars said.

"Why should I hold them?"

"Didn’t they teach you anything about the Tarn stones?" he roared in anger forgetting of the echoing force he could summon.

"No," everyone said in unison.

"That stupid tribe of yours and your Elders," Mars seethed.

"Isn't it your tribe too?" It was Coope's turn to ask questions.

"No! By the Gods. Never!" Mars roared in anger so loud, the echoes seemed to live forever on. "Just because I'm of your kind, doesn’t mean I'm of your tribe," he finished after he calmed down enough to hold his breath.

"I thought you had to belong to our tribe," Coope explained.

"Not really," Brine said, "You are too young to know that."

"Know what?"

"No matter how young they are," Mars was getting agitated again, "They should be aware they are Inner Ground Dwellers!"

"We do know that!" Pam protested indignantly.

"You just don’t know what that means," Mars finished sadly.

"I guess it's your Fate to teach us," Brine said hopefully.

"Maybe," Mars said absently, "We just might not have enough time for that."

"But what do I do about the stones?" Pam had asked before Brine had the time to react to the Mars' last statement.

"Nothing. Just hold it in your hands till it changes. It may seem a little wet, or more rough, or in contrast more smooth," Mars explained patiently.

"Why would that stone change like that?" Coope was curious too.

"You are all the Inner Ground Dwellers, your ancestors were Anaerthers. Even though your forefathers chose to leave the Inner Core and give up its life after the Skyfire Storm the Slave Rebellion reached our dwellings. You still hold the ability to draw nutrition directly from the Tarn stones," Mars sighed heavily, "It used to be the only way to feed our people down there."

"When we used to live down below." Brine protested.

"And also when we started to live on the surface," Mars shared, "It was just the Tribe's decision to switch to the surface food when the Tarn stones became scarce."

"We lost the ability to feed in the ancient way,"

"Says who?" Mars sneered.

"The Elders." Brine admitted, suddenly struck with unease.

"Always question authority. Always," the Wicked Guide stressed, "The only loyalty should always be to your own Core," he said as the silence fell into every restless mind.

Unnoticed by their protectors, the children regarded the Tarn stones with great curiosity. There was nothing interesting about holding a cold rock in hands, but it was always something to do in the sea of boredom. Everyone expected that mysterious thing, Mars was talking about, to take place the moment they reached for those stones. When nothing happened their curiosity ebbed. The murmurs of their protectors and soft sway of the boats made some of the younger kids take another nap. As Fates had it, none of them let their stone out of their hands for the rest of the journey.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"I can still feel your hate. I don't think any of my people hates me as much as you do, Bertan of the Third Line." The King of Invisible Sword trained his sight directly into her core without any effort. He was becoming to be almost too big for his seat and dwarfed her enough to make her feel out of place by his giant side.

Bertan recalled the Mother's words that the difference in size occurred, because the longer they lived, the more they consumed and accumulated Tharo Juice in their bodies. Swords never stopped growing, until the sheer size itself killed their bodies. But of course, Bertan started to question everything, she had ever been told. Though right there she couldn’t deny that his eyes were full of mesmerizing wisdom and she couldn’t stop herself from being lulled into a weird sense of security, and belonging right there. With him. With them.

"Would you take my head too?" he asked in a powerful whisper, like a lover murmuring sweet lies.

"In a heartbeat and we both know it," she answered boldly, deeply in a trance he had to induce just moments before. His scent, voice, and eyes held the secrets of half immortal generations, and the beasts that they had been before.

"Yes, we do know it." The King seemed more amused than upset with this kind of uncommon honesty Bertan was known for.

"Be sure my King, the moment you let it be, I will strike." The truth spilled through her lips, though she wasn't sure if that was truth anymore. Maybe it was just a deepest, darkest wish, for it took a certain type of character to take a life. Surely, she lacked that quality so far in her life. She had the only proof of that already.

"Don't you think there are more of us that have been waiting, throughout the ages, for a single chance to do just that?" He genuinely laughed aloud. "None of them is stupid enough to admit their treasonous plans right into my eyes, though… Maybe I should finish you here quickly so you could lay in the fire with your Mother."

"It wouldn't be a wise act at your position," Bertan answered unafraid. As deep into her trance as she was, she was still aware of the mind-games he played.

"You are right. Why do you think so?" His amusement disappeared, giving place to a visible weariness. Clearly, the giant was nearing his final breath, and it was never more apparent in front of her eyes.

"There are many reasons actually," she said after a brief pause she took to gather her thoughts together in one place, "There would be so many political questions from the other Head of Lines. They would start to feel endangered, and that would make them double their efforts to off you. Maybe they would even unite all against you. Which would also be the most unfortunate, as there is no blood relation to you to pass the knowledge of your Line Tharo ingredient, so there would be no one to lead your house. Only chaos and bloodshed will follow if you decide to kill me now. The Swords would crumble from within, as it was foretold eons ago by the Oracle," she reasoned clearly, even though she was completely dazed inside her mind. "To be honest, for me personally, that doesn't really feel that bad. So, feel free to take my head. I will laugh at you from the beyond," Bertan laughed sincerely, just as he had done moments before.

"You haven't been around here much, but you still managed to grasp our essence." He looked through her with a newfound spike of interest.

"Kill others, or shed your own blood, isn't that complicated rule, really,” she answered, “You are alive as long as they fear you enough I suspect."

"Others you talk about are little more than beasts. Our blood has been blessed to turn poison into nutrition, and a fleeting notion of an immortal life that does end. What do slaves and enemies mean to you? To us? When their lives are so short and insignificant, why do you care about them so much?" he asked looking truly baffled and confused, "You were gifted, and blessed with the superiority, yet you still detest that privilege."

"Protecting all life, regardless of its length, and origins, is the most important thing, I perceive as a true blessing. This long life we share and you seem to be so fond of, has become the curse that made us beasts on the inside. It killed our respect for the life itself."

"You can't even realize the level of the blasphemy you are representing to me, can you?" He asked seriously. The deliberation that each word carried created a subtle lifeline, she knew, should never be crossed.

"I'm not sure if I care much about that, my King," her answer was pointing right at the middle of that invisible line.

"You see, Bertan of the Third Line, I protect the lives of our people above all else," the King said after a moment of silence. The decision whether to let her live a little bit longer, was being made. "That's why I called upon you. I have a story to share with you. I was blessed with luck in my past to meet the Oracles throughout their existence. It would seem that unimaginable forces have guided you to fulfill the last line of a very old prophecy that I heard just once," he sighed heavily. "You have no idea what you started with your impulse to take the head of your Mother. So be it. It had been foretold a long time ago anyway… Please sit, and join me for a drink, for my story is not that easy, and neither that short."

He left his throne and walked toward the lounging corner, where a soft light emanated from a sturdy table. A huge Tharo Juice Carafe stood in between of very battered glasses and chalices. Bertan joined him, unable to hide her hesitation.

Once the King disconnected the linking between their eyes, the truth-trance disappeared into nonexistence. It was hard not to notice the great exertion it cost him to move. The Old King had already crossed the line of being too big to live, she realized, and others certainly had to make the same observation. Suddenly, it became clear that she had made the biggest mistake of her whole life when she claimed the Head Position of her Line. The death of her King would mark the end of her too, and there was no way to undo her mistake at this point.

"A long time ago, we had been mortal beasts digging in the ground for food," he started to share his story once he felt comfortable enough, "At the time there had been a period of an intense light coming from all over the sky, over and over again, in between of our beloved nights. That light brought warmth and was a reason for many things to grow on the surface, food to people and many animals that used to live around. Life was thriving everywhere, no place was left alone without a living companion At some point, the light went away to never reappear. We didn’t know how and why, for back then we were little more than beasts… illiterate, living only to eat and breed. Everything had ended in one moment, the light and the food. Everyone starved after every living thing died, or got eaten," he paused to take a deep breath, "Do you know how the Axes received their name?"

"No, I don't." Bertan frowned, for it never occurred to her to ask anything that fundamental. Some facts were to be accepted, not questioned. She should have learned earlier to question every single thing. She had no time to fix that mistake.

"It's certainly not because they were one tribe. No. They started out as wild individuals of different tribes and kinds, focused on one thing only. Survival at all cost. Back then, they used axes to kill their prey and chop it into pieces. Do you know what used to be their prey?" He looked at her pointedly not bothering to link her into the truth-trance.

"No, I don't,"