Quest for Knowledge (Volume 1 of the FirstWorld Saga) - Christopher Jackson-Ash (black female authors .txt) 📗

The crowd gasped and began to chatter nervously. The child in the old medicine woman's arms was strange. Not only was it far larger than any normal newborn baby, but it had a full head of bright red hair. Mandred gave a joyful shout and screamed strange incantations, emptying his herb pouch into the fire that he carried in his bowl. Simon saw him throw back his head and laugh long and hard. Then he fell to the ground and his body instantaneously withered and turned to dust. A peculiar wind struck up and blew through the clearing, carrying the dust away into the night. All that remained was a tattered bearskin cloak. Simon had seen such a death before, and the sudden memory disturbed him. Frisa the Curly-Haired and Hroc the Crow had passed to stone thanks to him and Kin Slayer; now Mandred had followed them. An eerie laughing cry, that was like no night bird Simon had heard before, echoed through the chill night. A cloud passed over the moon and the fire suddenly died. A pack of wolves howled in the distance as the crowd rapidly dispersed towards their home caves, apprehensive and afraid. Wa carried the baby, who was crying at the top of his lungs.

Only Manfred remained, taking it all in and seemingly talking to himself. He fingered his necklace as he spoke. Simon couldn’t hear what he said. The wizard too turned away from the clearing. The howls of the wolves were coming closer. In the shadows at one end of the clearing, Simon was in pain. His heart felt like it had been torn out of his body and stamped on. The ache in his chest spread to his very soul. In his despair, he howled. The people hurrying back to their caves stopped in their tracks. The hairs on the backs of their necks rose and goose bumps covered their skins. Quickly, they continued and sought the relative safety of their caves. The wolves stopped too, cocking their ears to the wind. Their leader snarled, wondering where this challenge to his authority was coming from. Simon stood erect. He withdrew Kin Slayer from its scabbard and brandished it above his head, showing it to the now fully risen moon.

“I swear on the sword Kin Slayer that I shall avenge this day. I give the rest of my life to seek out and destroy the evil that robbed me of my love. I curse forever the swine that impregnated my Ju and his child and its heirs forever until the end of time.” He raised his head to the moon and howled again. I will avenge you, my darling. Kin Slayer shrieked in unison with his howl until Simon finally sheathed the Sword.

The ties that bound Simon were now cut. Unbidden, his mind pictured the tower at Wizards’ Keep. The strange prickly sensation of pins and needles covered his entire body. Nausea gripped him. The world around him shimmered and disappeared to be replaced by an obsidian tower high above a medieval town. Simon staggered and held on to the parapet handrail to steady himself. It was night-time here too. Seemingly, the same moon cast its light out of a clear sky. The town looked the same as Simon remembered, but as he cast his gaze further, he shuddered. Where there should only have been tilled fields and the odd farmhouse was a scene from hell.

Elannort was surrounded. As far as his eyes could see, campfires burned. In the light of the full moon, he could just make out the hideous shapes of siege engines and worse. His gaze was drawn to a large fire towards the centre of the largest camp. There was someone or something there that he was familiar with. A picture formed in his mind. It was not a pretty sight. In his vision, he saw the might of those assembled at the gates. As well as men and the machines there were others there, the undead, and grotesque creatures that seemed to be the results of hideous breeding experiments. There was a great power present too, maybe even a god. A voice spoke in his head. So you are come at last, Red Boy. I had almost given up on you. It will be my greatest pleasure to kill you and have you serve me, undead, for eternity. What kept you?

“So you are finally back, for Balance sake. What kept you?” Simon was dragged back from his reverie by the insistent tugging on his arm by a small hand. “By heaven, you smell worse than a Valdonian swine herd after a month in the hog pens. Where have you been?”

Simon looked down at the face of his friend. His hair was as curly as ever, trying to escape from under his wide-brimmed hat with its white feather. His eyes were as blue as ocean pools, but strangely clouded with worry, and his beaky nose made him look as arrogant as ever. He pushed Jhamed’s hand away roughly and snarled through his tears. “How long have I been gone? What’s happening?”

Jhamed smiled despite Simon’s response, although the worry in his eyes was not lessened. “Always questions with you, isn’t it. You’ve been gone for more than six months. We had almost given up hope. Elannort is under siege. Many believe that the time of the Last Battle approaches. The shadows of Elannort in all of the dimensions are under attack too. Many were lost long ago, of course. Many have fallen recently. The few remaining will fall soon. When all have fallen and only Elannort remains, then will the Last Battle begin. The enemies will not move until then. They just sit outside the city and wait. But the time must be close at hand. There is much to be done. Come quickly, Manfred must be told of your return. He will have many questions for you. Perhaps there is yet a chance for us. Our Hero has returned. Were you successful in your quest? What happened?”

Simon said nothing. What could he say? He had failed in his quest. He had given up on his duty and his friends here in order to satisfy his own needs and desires. His true love had been cruelly taken from him. His heart was broken and all that was left was an unquenched thirst for revenge. Maybe I should just throw myself off the tower and end it all now. All I deserve is a coward’s death.

Two voices spoke in his head, both seeking to stop him from jumping. Do not jump, Red Boy. I have a more fitting end in mind for you. You will be mine, one way or another. If you jump, you will be mine all the sooner. Simon shuddered. Simon, it’s not too late. There is still hope. For Elannort, for the multiverse, for you, for all of us. Come to me now. Let me help you. You can survive this. For the sake of the Balance you must survive this. Simon screamed aloud. “Get out of my head, all of you. Leave me alone!” With tears streaming down his face and sobbing uncontrollably, he sheathed Kin Slayer and meekly followed Jhamed down the tower stairs, oblivious to his nakedness, to see what next cruel trick fate had in store for him.

****

After the inhuman howling stopped, the wolves began calling again. A figure in the shadows at the other end of the clearing shivered. He had felt all of the anguish in those screams. He had heard the words that the red haired one had shouted at the moon. He had seen the moonlight glint off his sword. Now, he smiled. There was no joy in the smile, only a grim determination to carry out the action that he had come here for. Soon, the Hero would die.

Book 4 The Sundering

In which Simon Redhead must choose the path he will take to the future.

“When the two who are one

Return to the sun

When the flame-haired child

Is first become

While the guardians sleep

Humankind will weep.”

Ancient Prophecy

“And something happened to Simon Redhead between the past and the present. He finally embraced his role as the Everlasting Hero. His grief at Ju’s death was assuaged. He would never forget but it would not consume him. Whether it was the Sword or the Time Portal that worked its magic I do not know. However, Fate had to ensure that he returned to Melasurej in a functional capacity because the future of Elannort, FirstWorld and the entire multiverse would depend on him.”

Kris the Bard writing in “The Chronicle of the Hero”

Elannort, Year of Creation 50508.

Two Heroes

Taran and Dawit met Jhamed and Simon at the foot of the High Tower. They tried not to show it, but Simon knew they were shocked by his unkempt appearance. He didn’t really know how bad it was, he hadn’t looked in a mirror for a long time. However, he could guess. His hair was past his shoulders and was dirty and matted. His facial hair was unkempt; he had not attended to it for six months. His fingernails and toenails were long and grimy. He was dirty and there was little doubt that he smelled bad, Jhamed had already told him so. He pulled himself together a little and greeted his old friends. “It’s good to see you. I’m so glad to be back. I need a long bath and then I could murder a decent meal.”

Taran smiled and offered Simon his hand. “I’m sure you could. However, Manfred insists on seeing you immediately. He’s in the library and he has someone with him.”

Dawit was less formal and rushed to give Simon a hug, despite his condition. He didn’t seem to be embarrassed about Simon’s nakedness either. “Thank goodness you have returned. We have been so worried about you.” He turned to Taran, “And less of the secrecy, it’s Ubadah the lost King of Tamarlan. He has come from the past. He’s another incarnation of the Everlasting Hero. He’s trouble, mark my words. Don’t trust him.”

“I was getting there, before you jumped in. Welcome home, Simon, it’s good to have you back. You just don’t like Ubadah because he thinks dwarves are second-class citizens.”

“He thinks anyone who is not a human of noble birth is a second-class citizen. He has more arrogance than anyone I have ever known. He makes Lord Velacourt look timid.” Simon remembered Velacourt from the Council of the Wise.

“How is Aglaral? And Gamying? What happened to them on their trip? Did they get to Tamarlan?” Simon found his interest reawakened.

“Always the questions,” Jhamed laughed. “Aglaral is fine, he’s here in Elannort. Gamying is back in Tamarlan; we traded him for Ubadah and got a bad deal. Manfred will tell you what’s happening. Come on, I’ll take you to the Library and then I’ll organise a bath and a barber for you. I can’t think that Manfred will want to detain you for long. We’ll find you a loincloth before you go in though.” Simon was again aware of his nakedness and his hands moved to cover his embarrassment.

At the door to the library, Jhamed paused to knock. Simon heard raised voices inside and he stopped Jhamed’s hand from knocking for a moment. He heard Manfred’s voice first; he sounded tired. “You will show him the respect that he deserves. He carries Fleischaker.”

The second voice was loud and strong, Simon could hear the arrogance in it. “The sword is rightfully mine. I intend to claim it. Only I can help you to defeat the Dark God. I am from this dimension. I am the rightful owner. I am a king. What is he? A peasant. Hah!”

Simon had heard enough and he released Jhamed’s hand. Jhamed knocked and waited for Manfred’s ‘enter’ before leading Simon in. Manfred jumped up from his seat at a table piled