The Elder's Path Read online

  “This was my parents’ chamber,” Skyehart said slowly. He struck a match to light a candle mounted on a silver holder. The bright flame dispersed the shadows in the sitting room, and Lyn waited with bated breath for the light to reveal the demon wolf. But it did not; the room was devoid of anyone but Lyn and Skyehart. Lyn should have been surprised, but somehow she wasn't.

  The blonde man turned abruptly and said, "I just realized, I have been very rude; I haven't introduced myself." He turned about and waited, clearly expecting Lyn to precede him out of the room and back towards the kitchen.

  "I think I know who you are," Lyn said hesitantly. She still couldn't tell if he was mad at her for wandering off or not. She passed him and he walked alongside her down the staircase.

  With a small hint of a teasing smirk he said, "You may indeed know my name, but only I can give it to you."

  Lyn blushed and mentally kicked herself for finding his mysterious nature tantalizing.

  "My family name is Skyehart. You know that already. We've been here for as long as anyone can remember, at this very spot on the peak. Legend has it that my family went all the way back to the old world, and acted as shields for the mages who made the mountains their home. Legend only, perhaps, but regardless we have had a rich history here." He paused for a moment, letting her back through the connecting passageway to the main hall. He shut and locked the door behind him.

  Stepping back in to the main hall, the small light from the candle cast deeper shadows in the empty space, making it seem even less inviting. Skyehart paused, looking around the darkness. What phantoms he saw there Lyn knew not.

  He turned to her, his eyes steely in the flickering light. "My name is Siege Skyehart, first of that name, and last of my line."

  --

  The rest of the evening was fairly reserved. It was clear to Lyn that Siege spent very little time in the manor, and that he was lost in his memories and thoughts. He showed Lyn to her room, which was modestly sized but very comfortable. A small window afforded her a look outside to watch the storm. She felt a kind of serenity watching the torrent outside her window; it felt as if she were in a protective shell with all the chaos swirling around for her to see, but not a part of it. True to his word, Siege had built her a cozy fire indeed and somehow managed to sneak in during the night to keep it kindled. When she woke in the morning, the light was not much brighter. It was a terrible storm that Lyn was glad not to be in it. A knock came at her door, and assuming it could only be her host she wrapped herself in her blankets and invited him in. The door opened slowly to reveal the Skyehart heir with a tray of breakfast.

  "I brought you some food," he said as he awkwardly maneuvered around the furniture to place the tray by her bedside. As was evidently customary for him, he was still wearing his armor. Despite his good intentions, he was clumsy in the small space and knocked over an empty vase which shattered to the floor. Cursing to himself, he set down the tray and kneeled down to collect the broken bits. His cumbersome movement caused him to knock against the bedside table, rattling the tray threateningly. Lyn reached out quickly to stop it from crashing to the floor and Siege looked up at her with embarrassment written on his face. Saying nothing, he cradled the broken vase and took his leave, shutting the door somewhat roughly behind him.

  Lyn choked back a giggle at the absurdity of it but managed to keep her composure lest the young lord hear her and bruise his pride further. As Lyn began her breakfast in earnest, a thought occurred to her; while she had never been to a manor such as this, let alone lived in one, she had always been under the impression that servant kept the house. Lyn had seen no such individuals running about to sweep the rushes or prepare the fires or make breakfast. Siege had done it all himself. She frowned as she ate, ever more curious as to what exactly happened here that had made everyone go away, that had hollowed this place out into the shell it had become.

  When she had finished her morning repast, she dressed quickly and gathered up the tray. When she opened her door, she found a torch had been put in one of the sconces. Taking it in hand, she made her way to the kitchen. As she approached the light clink of dishware met her ears, and as she opened the door she saw Siege was cleaning the dishes in a large sink. He looked to her and then nodded to an empty spot on the counter next to him. She sat the dishes down with a quiet thanks. The daylight, what little there was at least, did nearly nothing to dispel that haunting silence and she saw little reason to break it if Siege didn't first. She waited quietly while he finished.

  “Come,” he finally said to her quietly, and handed her some dried meat. He took a pail of oats and the two departed the kitchen to feed their companions. “The storm is in full force, wear this.” He draped a large cloak around her with a pull that cinched it shut. He cracked an awkward smile and stood back.

  “What?” Lyn asked indignantly.

  “Look,” he said, pointing to a mirror.

  She immediately saw the reason for his amusement; the cloak, clearly made for a Skyehart-sized individual, nearly enveloped her. She looked ridiculous. Of course Lyn was a person of practicality, and she cared little for the appearance thereof; that being said, she saw why it would amuse and chuckled with good humor. “The good news is, if we get stranded out there I can live in this thing!”

  --

  While she would have liked to visit Alir further, feeding time was a rushed affair. The coop had been built with wind shields that protected it from the flurries and was designed in such a way to keep the birds safe and dry. Alir didn’t seem to mind it, and since he had the whole of it to himself Lyn did not feel overly guilty.

  “Don’t get lazy in here,” Lyn said jovially. “We wouldn’t want to set back out and have you wholly dependent on me to feed you now, would we?”

  Alir did not respond, but peered at her with one eye. Lyn stuck her tongue out at him and said, “Yeah that’s right. You’d starve before you bent down to that level huh?” Alir puffed his feathers and spread his wings. “Alright alright, here’s the rest of your breakfast you baby.”

  With a promise to visit again soon, Lyn turned and rushed back to the house. Her host followed soon after, bucket empty.

  “How was Stygian this morning?” Lyn asked, hoping to prompt some conversation from Siege that entailed more than a few syllables.

  Siege looked at her, clearly confused. “Well,” he said simply. Gods, Lyn thought, between him and Marcho we have a pair of real conversationalists.

  The two shed their cloaks and boots, drying them off as much as possible and hanging them to do the rest. They stepped in to the empty hall and stood there for a moment. Lyn, not knowing what to say, simply stood quietly and looked at the floor.

  To the Void with this, she thought, and blurted, “Are you upset at me?”

  Her concerned tone rang out in the vast hall and the tall blonde man next to her seemed surprised at not only her sudden outburst, but the volume of it.

  He blinked and turned to her. “No, I...forgive me Lyn, it has been a very long time since, well, anyone else has been here...” he scratched at his stubble. Lyn got the distinct impression he was nervous.

  “I mean about last night. I went wandering around, maybe I shouldn’t have?”

  “No, it’s fine. Honestly I was more surprised you had gotten in to that area of the house; I thought I had shut it all off and locked it up.”

  Lyn, forgetting her consternation, puzzled over this. “Really?” she asked slowly, “Because it was not locked when I went in. In fact, the door to your par...The chamber, was ajar.”

  The young master of the house froze, and turned to her quickly as if in great panic. “What did you just say? Ajar?” He grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her to look him in the eye. The steel and hard leather of his gloves pressed uncomfortably against her.

  “Ow,” she said, but upon meeting his eyes she let go her discomfort. The whites of his eyes were showing and there was something terrible in his gaze; a mixture of fear and hatred. “
Yes, ajar, as in it was already open,” she said, nodding.

  Without a second’s pause he let go of her and stormed towards the passageway leading to the staircase she had discovered last night.

  “I don’t understand,” Lyn said after him, but he paid no mind. Not one to be left out, Lyn followed behind him, albeit a few steps back. He quickly unlocked the door and stepped into the second hall. The shadows, much less prominent now, had receded back far enough to reveal a coating of dust on the whole place, as if it were an unvisited mausoleum. Siege Skyehart looked around quickly, as though trying to apprehend some villain. Evidently seeing nothing, he quickly approached the stair case and checked around for footprints.

  “Curses!” he yelled, and began to ascend. He stopped momentarily at the spot on the banister where Lyn had put her hand, and dismissed it. He hurried to the chamber door at the top of the grand staircase and unlocked it, swinging it open. However, he did not go inside. He simply stood, not moving. Lyn approached quietly, unsure of the state of her host. For all she knew, he could be in some kind of psychotic episode.

  “Lord Skyehart?” she ventured quietly. When no response was forthcoming, she said gently, “Siege?”

  He finally blinked, and turned to her. “I am sorry, this must all seem very strange to you. Please, I have to check something, and then I will explain everything. If you don’t mind, meet me in the main hall; I will be there shortly.” He strode in to the room and shut the door behind him. The click of the door into the frame echoed behind her, and with a last look of concern, she returned to the hall as requested.

  Lyn stood in the entrance hall for a time, idling about and waiting, but Siege didn’t come back. Bored, she decided to take one of the covers off the chairs near the fireplace and at least sit down. Of course, as soon as she had done this the door to the connecting passageway opened and Siege stepped through it. He looked as though he was deep in thought, and strode distractedly to a chair. He promptly lowered himself in to it, not bothering to remove the shroud.

  Shrugging to herself, Lyn remained seated and waited until her host was ready to speak. He took his time, though, and Lyn found herself growing impatient. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, tapped her foot idly on the floor, and coughed a time or two but it did not seem to faze Siege in the least.

  Finally he said, “My parents died, some years ago. I was 11 when they went, my brother was 9. It was difficult for us, I think understandably.” He paused, picking his next words. Lyn’s mind raced. She knew his family was gone, obviously they’d have to be if he was the last of his line. But hearing it from him, making it real, that was something else entirely. She was caught on his brother though; she didn’t have any legitimate cause to think so, but somehow she had the impression he was an only child. He had mentioned his parents died, so what happened to his brother?

  Her ponderings were interrupted when Siege continued, “For a while, it felt like it wasn’t real. We were still here, in the estate. Our people still worked here, taking care of the animals and the grounds. We kept the house open at that time. And for a little while things continued like they would have anyway; our tutors kept instructing us, the snows came and went, the sun rose and fell. And suddenly...it just, stopped. Just came crashing down, as if everything had been held with an indrawn breath, and couldn’t be held any longer. And with a rush, the world we knew ended. The groundskeepers left one by one, the kitchen staff, the horse master, one after another.”

  His face was drawn tight, brow furrowed. With a deep breath, he continued, “Before long it was just a few of us left. My brother, he just didn’t...he wasn’t the same. He felt...different. I tried my best to help him and guide him, but something just wasn’t there in him anymore. It felt like I was talking with a ghost. A memory of who he used to be. He was never violent, never angry before. But then he started lashing out. He started abusing the few of us left, verbally and physically. There was nothing anyone could do to calm him down. He wouldn’t sleep, he wouldn’t eat. It’s like he was rejecting the entire world.”

  He stood suddenly and began pacing. Lyn blinked and watched him. He still seemed unstable to her, one moment reticent and stoic, the next angry and energetic. She supposed she could understand, though. With such trauma as a young boy, he must have felt so alone in the world. And he seemed to have lived as a hermit for quite some time, it was no wonder he was a bit odd. Though, she had lived essentially as a hermit, too...she wondered if she seemed strange to people in a similar capacity.

  “I need a moment,” he said, “Please, let me show you to our armory; you can do some training and get some physical activity. I know what it feels like to be cooped up in here.” He walked her to a side path and through a small room that must have been the servants’ quarters when the manor was filled. Through another door they came to a dark, windowless room. Lyn shivered. “Don’t worry, you’ll warm up as you get moving. I’ll get some light in here.” He turned and went back through the door, which swung shut behind him.

  “Hey!” Lyn yelled.

  “Oops, apologies...” Siege said distractedly, opening the door up again. Shortly, he returned with some torches and placed them in sconces around the room. It was a sizable room, indeed! It held quite a bit of equipment of all varieties; there were a few archery dummies, some sword training dummies, wooden peg people for hand to hand, and open floor space for sparring.

  “This is wonderful!” Lyn said, delighted to have the opportunity again to hone her skills. Holing oneself up against the storms did not a warrior make, and Lyn was eager to practice once again.

  “There are armaments lining the north most wall, and padding. If you need assistance, there’s...”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Lyn interjected rather abruptly. “I know my way around, thank you.”

  Siege was silent for a moment, then said simply, “As you wish,” and left.

  Lyn regretted snapping, but was doing her utmost not to appear as a damsel in distress. She wanted it to be clear that she was an equal and that she could take care of herself. Putting no further thought to the matter, she began her training in earnest.

  --

  She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but she was exhausted. She picked up after herself and blew out the torches, keeping one with her. As she left the training arena and passed back through the servants’ quarters in to the main hall, she saw that night had fallen. Siege sat in the same chair he had been in, hands under his chin, staring out the window absently. Lyn went in to the kitchen to retrieve some dried meat from the pantry, and went out to feed Alir. The storm seemed to have subsided a bit, but Lyn was still bundled up well. The hood pulled up around her face cut off her peripheral vision, which disallowed her to see the great three-eyed wolf watching her as she approached the coop. As she came up to Alir, she saw he was restless and ruffled. With a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the storm, she turned to see the demon sitting a mere few feet away, nearly within reach.

  “Marcho!” she said angrily, “You must stop sneaking up on me! Please! It adds stress to everyone involved. Namely me.”

  But the wolf ignored her. “The man in this castle, his name is Skyehart. But he shares this name; there is another.”

  “No,” Lyn said with exasperation. “No, he said he is the last of his line.”

  “He is not entirely wrong.”

  Lyn was finally fed up with his cryptic responses and sneaking about, so she began yelling. “Marcho, by all Gods old and new, if you don’t start speaking plainly with me, I shall...well I shall be very cross, indeed.”

  Marcho seemed unimpressed, but after a moment said, “Very well. I shall explain.”

  “First, you will explain to me why and how you were in the manor!”

  “How is a matter you would not understand, and therefore broaches no discussion. Why, however, ties directly in to what I was about to say regardless.” He paused, gnashing his long teeth for a moment, standing perfectly still despite the wind and s
now about him. After a moment he spoke again. “You remember I told you I was hunting for the demon Umbra. That I cannot return until this contract is complete.” Lyn sensed this wasn’t a question, but rather a statement, and so said nothing. “I will now explain to you why.” Alir screeched in an annoyed fashion, and Lyn quickly began handing over pieces of the meat as she listened. “Umbra is tied to humanity; it has existed for as long as your race has. It was born in the darkness, and darkness it became. It is the very shadow of doubt, anger, and greed that shadows the hearts of your people. Umbra is different than most other of my kind, because it has no form of its own; it requires a host to survive. While the host must be willing, Umbra has a way of twisting the feelings of those around it, making them susceptible to its influence. It latches on to the small part of the subconscious that contains the innermost doubt and insecurity, it makes it grow and fester until the host is consumed by it. Then, Umbra owns them. I have seen it happen my own self, to great and powerful men. Men who had no reason to fall to darkness.”

  Lyn flashed back to the stories of the monster in the guise of a man. “It sounds terrifying, I grant you,” she said ponderously, “but what exactly does Umbra do? Why is it so bad?”

  “That is a fair question, considering. Your age has been relatively free of Umbra’s influence; it would appear that Umbra had a similar plan to my own. It waited, slumbered until the age of its treachery had been forgotten, and now wakens to lay torment upon the world anew. Umbra brings out the worst in humanity. In its wake, chaos and turmoil thrive. Umbra has caused countless deaths in its time, through war or murder or suicide...countless. It is a plague on your kind and my own. The whole of existence would be bettered by its eradication.” He looked at her, and she thought she could detect a sort of sadness in his eyes. “Unfortunately, you yourself will not be free of Umbra’s legacy. It has a new host, and we are on its trail.”