Chapter Eleven

Day after day she sat next to the young man as he scribbled almost endlessly in a language she didn’t understand. Page after page were added to the tome which always stayed opened and ready for him. As she watched him write, she couldn’t help he wasn’t much younger than her. Their differences however were stark and rather shocking to her, however subtle they may have been to others.

He never spoke to her, nor did anyone else. She ate well. Each day she was allowed as much time as she liked to bathe and dress herself. Every meal was delivered by a robed servant who offered only a smile. Before the atrium she stood at now was a vast library with more books than she had ever seen. The histories she was fond of reading were not the ones she was familiar with. It was as if she lived in a different time or place. Too often it left her mind swimming.

While she longed now for some kind of conversation, the mending of her wounds were still fresh in her mind. The recovery had been long and rather painful. Innately she could sense there was magic about, it wasn’t used on her. Every wound had to recover on its own. Many times she had set bones or had her own placed back in the right order to have one from the Ministry finish the healing with magic. None of that was offered here. Only very recently did her leg feel strong enough to begin some exercising.

Mora’s need to hone her body was strong, but her thirst for the knowledge in the books proved stronger. While she worked her body to keep it limber, there was zero desire to return to the rigors she regularly put her body through. She was happy to note she was still extremely quick. At one point, the man writing dropped his quill only to have Mora catch it before it hit the floor. Deftly she caught it and tossed it into her other hand, setting it gently in front of him.

He gave her a smile and a nod, the most conversation she had in months. Staring at his writing she attempted to understand the words he wrote, yet in the end it was all a bunch of symbols that seemed to have no rhythm or structure to it. Early curiosity had led her to looking through the books haphazardly attempting to find something that would explain it.

Getting up from watching him right, Mora walked the atrium again. She found it odd it brought her a peace she didn’t understand. Such things had never affected her in the past. In fact she remembered a general disdain. Walking slowly, she found herself patting her stomach, finding it odd to see herself doing such. A deep frown pressed her forehead. She was never foolish and the growing bulge was not lost on her. She was with child. Regardless of how, she found some strange comfort in the knowledge she would have a child.

There was something different about it all. How could she deny she was certainly not within the Rhiyan realm? The slightly different phrases used in her readings led her to believe she was in the southern part of Terra. Any other time that would have given her a sense of angst, again she found only comfort. None made sense to her.

Stirring in the air, she turned expecting to see the man writing in the tome to be leaving. Instead a new person had walked into the atrium. Dressed in a dark robe, almost black, she recognized the image of a druid. While she hadn’t seen one in years, it was hard to miss a follower of the Timewalker.

Wonderment filled her as she realized she was reading what some called the ‘true history’ of Terra. There was an entire group that was dedicated to keeping accurate records of the events that passed. Mora however understood any writer held a bias. She stopped when she saw a pair of eyes staring at her behind the cloak. Part of her wanted to trust the eyes, but for years she had only contempt for those that followed the Timewalker.

Pulling back the hood and offering her a smile, Mora took a few steps back. Everything that ran through her mind stopped cold and begged her to run as far away as she could. Her sensibilities returned; there was no where to run. Yet standing in the atrium with her was a man with a face she had seen on statues. Was it possible the Timewalker himself was there?

“Yes.” He answered calmly, still smiling and waving her to a cushioned bench, where he took a seat. “Come let us chat a bit.”

Slowly she made her way to the bench and sat, careful to not get too close to him. Mora’s mind was filled with thoughts she couldn’t understand and frankly didn’t want to try. A bitter enemy of Rhiya, there was not a single Rhiyan that didn’t want to personally offer the head of the Timewalker in tribute to the Goddess. Yet, even as it was with her, sitting next to him there was no strength in desire to carry out the old lingering desire.

“I want to apologize for making you endure the pain of your recovery. It was however necessary.” He began with his piercing eyes never leaving hers. “There is an order to things and sometimes even I have to abide by them. But not often.”

He offered a chuckle to prompt her to his humor. Mora felt none, only an unreasonable fear of the unknown as to why she was the guest or prisoner of the Timewalker.

“Amadagu is more proper than Timewalker. I get rather loathsome of that name. It was one I have never wanted.” Still he smiled and refused to look from her. A part of her was started at the jitteriness she felt realizing he was rather striking in features and attractiveness. Suddenly, as a slight rose color filled his cheeks, she realized he was reading her thoughts.

“That is rather rude.” Mora commented before she could stop herself.

“Indeed, but often a necessary deed. As you have found a voice, I suppose I should stop that now.” His smile pressed on his lips and a kindness was offered in his eyes.

Absently she stroked her slightly bulging stomach. Dropping her eyes she asked, “I know it’s his. But I can’t be happier about it.” She stated.

“Not that it’s his, but that I am having one. I had forgotten as a girl how much I had wanted a child.” She corrected herself as his expression changed, offering an arched eyebrow that seemed to judge her.

“Any child has it own chance to be something more, less or equal to those that brought them into the world. There is just as much of a chance the child will be like you as it will be like him.” Amadagu commented as he looked down at her belly.

“There is no comfort in that.” She stated quickly.

“Rarely is the truth comfort.” Amadagu responded immediately. “Truth simply exists. The only way to prove it is to see it remain unchanged. But you aren’t worried about the child being like him.”

“I don’t see how I am any better to bring a child into the world.” Mora stated before she could stop the words from spilling from her mouth. A horrible guilt filled her as she thought about what kind of life the child would have considering its parents.

“That is entirely up to you and what your wants are.” He began to explain. “If your loyalty is to Rhiya, this child will be a demon as the goddess is. If you wish something else, that too can be provided.”

“This is why I am here. Because you want something of this child or of me.” Mora looked away from the druid.

“No, you are here to recover in safety. Anyone tossed into a whoring pit deserves better. Tagor over there saw you in a vision. We acted on that vision of someone dying without any dignity and well, I interfered.”

“Why?” She questioned with remorse.

“Because everyone, well almost everyone deserves some dignity.” There was sadness in his eyes as she lifted hers to look at him again.

“I have done terrible things to people. I deserve no such dignity.” Mora stated with tears heavily in her eyes. From her side view, she watched the man writing in the tome suddenly get up and leave.

“What do you want Mora, from this moment forward what do you want?” The fierceness in Amadagu’s eyes made her pause and really thing about his question.

How could she explain she had no answer for such a question? Life had always been set for her. Rise to the top of the Ministry and upon Berric’s death become the head of the Ministry Council. Things were simply a fog to her. A child of all things. A dream of a young girl coming true under circumstances she still shivered about in fear and loathing. There was nothing in Terra she could see that would be any form of answer. A land torn between factions. A place where survival was all that counted and everything else was simple fantasy.

“I simply don’t know that answer. I really don’t think such answer are simple or easy to explain. Is there a simple word for that?” She questioned.

“Life.” Was all he offered.

“Life? Are you that naive? A slave has a life, a whore has a life, and a king has a life. But that really isn’t an answer is it?” She suddenly spat back. “It’s not enough to just have a life. We have to have a purpose, a reason for what we are, no matter how simple or complicated that may be.”

“What purpose for this child then Mora?” Amadagu pushed.

“To be free to choose!” She suddenly exclaimed. “To make all those choices for itself.”

“That is the same thing I am offering you. A choice and chance to be free to follow what you like. If that is to return to the Ministry, then it shall be. If not, then you have some other options.”

“I am listening.” He offered a kind smile and took her hand. To her surprise she had no desire to pull it away.

“Mora, if you have this child away from the ministry, I can promise you it will achieve some form of happiness. In fact if you wish it, there is a peace for you here as well. In the years to come, I will send you orphans, you must protect them and teach them here. Once your child is of age, they get to choose to leave this place or stay and teach.”

“It will not be easy, many of these children are or have been running for a long time to stay away from the Ministry. Eventually you will have to teach one that has the potential to destroy the entire Ministry.” Amadagu continued. “You would be doing this in atonement to the people you helped persecute on behalf of Rhiya.”

“Why would you wish this from me?” She could sense there was something he wasn’t telling her. Yet everything in her wanted to accept his offer.

“Because you are best suited for it. I have no doubt you still hold a battle prowess that several of these students, if not all, will need to learn. Your understanding of your culture is without a doubt a valuable asset. But know this, it requires a dedication and a sacrifice. I spoke to you the very first steps months ago when Tagor and I pulled you from the pit.”

Mora tried to clear her mind as it spun at the thought of what was being offered. The simplicity of it scared her to death. Never in her life had anything been offered without a terrible cost. Most of the times had she known the cost she would not have taken the offer.

“What you are asking makes no sense.” More finally stammered out. “I know battle and honestly my taste for it has gone away. That bastard took it from me!”

She broken into heaving sobs. Yet she found comfort in the arms that wrapped around her. Dropping her head, Mora buried her face into his chest.

“That is the penalty of guilt Mora.” He said softly to her, holding her against her sobs offering his comforts. “Nothing can change what is, but what can be, that is within our grasp to change. Or at least attempt it.”

Amadagu paused then continued. “There is another choice. I can send you on your way and you can forget about this place and leave life into the hands of chance. Where you would be free from other worries here, you would have to fend for yourself once you left. But know this, to give you clarity of choice, you do not have a time limit on when you make your choice. Simply make it when you are ready.”

“You already know my choice don’t you Amadagu?” She questioned between her sobs. Whether he answered or not, she couldn’t be sure as all sounds were lost in her crying. But Mora already knew her choice. There wasn’t another she could make.”

****

“The child of Vakhan is to be the Lord of Windra.” Amadagu announced to the group of men before him.

For days they deliberated on who would be the Lord of Windra and King of the South. Each of those days, Tagor explained his visions causing uproar each time. Many took out their frustrations on Tagor because they refused to do such at the Timewalker.

Before they arrived, there was already a consensus on who it should be and it wasn’t Delvakhan, son of Vakhan. Vakhan had a reputation of being a fair and just man, quite the opposite of his son. Del wasn’t terrible, yet held very loose morals and his fairness left a lot to be desired. It didn’t help that since his father passed, Delvakhan was running into a bad habit of getting loans and such from the other Barons to keep himself at a level of luxury that caused all to question his motives.

When Amadagu put in his call as a tie breaker to raise Del to the title of Lord of Windra and King of the South, there was a silent and then not so silent outrage. It was then to explain his reasoning, Tagor was brought forth as a true Seer of future events. Amadagu had tested the man thoroughly before he began training him.

In order for a Seer to be true, they had to speak in the eldest of languages known as the language of Divinity, only bestowed upon those granted true visions, regardless of the Deity they followed. The pictured language caused the electing party to pause and then burst into more arguments.

There was nothing Amadagu could do to get them to see the light of the choice. It wasn’t Delvakhan he was interested in, but rather what would follow, if they followed the vision.

“The Seer has written it true and without interference. Additionally, the King of the South will become the personal charge of the Seer. He will always have my council. I trust and will follow the vision.” Amadagu’s voice filled the air, stopping all other discussions.

“The final complete bloodline will have to be nurtured and not ignored. I wrote the Boh Modrin, I know what it says.” He continued defiantly. “Every piece is in place, the Seer, the teacher and the Silence. It is through Vakhan’s bloodline the war will find its end.”

“Amadagu, there is no guaranty of this. You have said so yourself. There is no war, just silly skirmishes and the like. Would you have us in fear of this react irrationally? Was that not why you originally set up this group? So there was no undo influence?”

“There is no other selection I will accept. The Lord of Windra is Delvakhan, this circle has fulfilled its duty. Fealty to the King of the South or be scattered to the winds!” Amadagu suddenly announced knowing none would challenge the official decree.

Albeit slow, all saluted; “Fealty to Delvakhan, King of the South!”

Toward the back of the room a young man walked confidently to the center chair and took his place. Delvakhan, Lord of Windra and King of the South sat with a cocky smile on his lips. At that moment, Amadagu paused to wonder about his forceful choice. Giving him more doubt, the young Kings voice filled the room;

“Now let us see the best way to finance an attack on the Ministry. My father’s death will not go unpunished.”

Looking to the Barons, Amadagu closed the Kings mind to his thoughts. Walking away with Tagor at his side the Druid could only think about it all and shake his head. For the first time in an eon, he seriously doubted his decision but rested his faith on Mora and the task before her.