Champions of Serenity :Gathering the Circle

Chapter 19

Tyra sat with her back to the wall watching the door in a tavern by the docks in Tealshire. A mug of brew sat before her and somewhere in the back, the cook was supposed to be serving up some fired potatoes and a couple of mutton chops. Her black hair was tied back with a silver thong that accentuated the vivid blue of her eyes. She took note of all who entered, out of habit; her hand never far from the hilt of her sword that lay on the seat next to her.

She nodded to the serving girl as a plate of gray food that supposedly passed for fired potatoes and mutton chops smothered in gravy was placed before her. A basket with dark, thick crusted bread was set down next to the plate and the girl vanished into the back again. During this moment, Tyra almost missed the entrance of the young half elf.

The young man with yellow blond hair and slanted blue eyes scanned the semi-darkness of the tavern’s main room taking note of who was there. He offered a smile to Tyra and made his way to another table where he could watch the door. His movements were graceful and filled with purpose.

Before the serving girl could do more than set down a mug of the same brew that Tyra had for the half elf, a large group of Greshinea’s elite stomped into the tavern. The leader glanced at a parchment in his hands and then at the patrons of the tavern.

Tyra felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. These men were looking for her. She didn’t know why she knew, she just knew it. It might have something to do with the dream she kept having of that girl in a forest somewhere to the north. As she tried not to be noticed, she almost missed a similar reaction in the half elf. This puzzled her a moment and then all hell broke loose.

The leader of the patrol pointed to both Tyra and the half elf and his men divided in half to take them into custody. The other patrons tried not to stare as both were drug out into the street. Inside, the tavern keeper demanded to know when he was going to be paid for the uneaten meals ordered and the drinks drawn and left. The leader threw a small bag of coins on the floor and informed the keeper that if he wanted to live to see the sunrise, he would take what was given and not complain.

Outside, Jehro and Tyra were thrown into cages and driven through town like wild animals. No one on the streets wanted to meet their eyes; the fear of this patrol was too strong in this town for the people to protest the taking of two peaceful strangers.

The cages were pulled into a camp a couple of miles outside of Tealshire and locked down for a wait. The guards tossed some stale bread and rancid wine skins into their prisoners and then went to enjoy a meal of roasting meat around a blazing fire.

“Hist. Hist.” Tyra looked up from her hands wishing she had drawn her sword before it was taken from her. It, along with a couple of daggers taken from the half elf lay in a cart just out of reach. If only she had her weapon, she would make these dogs pay for touching her. “Hist.” She turned as the sound caught her attention and looked into the blue eyes of the half elf.

“I’m Jehrones Cinnabar…..I know why I was taken…but why you?”

Tyra searched his face, looking for any traps in his innocent appearing words. She hadn’t gotten as far as she did trusting every friendly face or voice.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you why I think I was taken. But if you want to make it easier on yourself, don’t make friends with me.”

Jehro laughed softly. For a moment the setting sun flashed across his face and a feral gleam appeared in his eyes. “You’ve had the dream too then; the one about the girl, tall, Elven, in a forest. It’s the only reason the elite would take you. Greshinea is afraid of that girl for some reason and anyone who’s had that dream he wants.”

Tyra couldn’t help but stare at him. How did he know? He said too, that means he’s had it and that’s why they were taken. But who was this girl and why would someone like Greshinea be afraid of her?

“Tyra, I’m called Tyra. What are we going to do?”

“For now, we do nothing. There are others these men are looking for, three of them to the north. We will ride along with them until we get closer and then something will happen to give us a chance to get away.”

“How do you know all this, Jehrones?” Tyra couldn’t help but believe what he said but he couldn’t possibly know all this, could he?

Jehro tapped his head and nodded to the men around the fire. “It’s a gift, from my mother. I can read thoughts from those who don’t guard them. Those goons over there have no secrets from me. You on the other hand are closed up tighter than a drum. And please, call me Jehro. I have a feeling we are going to become very good friends over the next few weeks.”

That made sense, but it also worried Tyra. If he could read minds, what would he do if he found out her secret? He said she was closed up tighter than a drum, but did that mean he couldn’t get through?

“You are afraid of me now, Tyra. Don’t be. I don’t pry into the minds of my friends. How did I know you are afraid? Your eyes, they keep darting to me like I’ve grown a second head or something. I read people’s body language as much as anything. As a bard, it helps to know the mood of those I’m performing for.”

Tyra relaxed a little at this. He had lost his lute along with his daggers in the tavern. He had the voice and look of a bard and he knew things going on that a bard would know.

“Tyra, you’ll have to be strong now. These men…” A rock slammed into the side of Jehro’s cage.

“Stop talking you two.” The leader came over and used a whip on Jehro, flaying his back and sides until his tunic came away in strips and blood oozed from gashes in his flesh. Then he turned a satisfied grin on Tyra and strode to her cage.

By the time her skin stopped stinging from the beating, the burning from other abuse was long gone. Tyra looked over to Jehro’s cage and noticed he was crying silently for her pain. How she knew it was for her pain she didn’t want to think about, it was part of her secret. He was not only telepathic, he was empathic.

For his part, Jehro surrounded Tyra with a healing calm, protecting her mind from the abuse heaped on her body. He wanted his new friend to come out of this stronger and whole, so as the trauma happened to her, he soothed her mentally until she saw it for what it was an attempt to break her spirit. Jehro knew when she accepted this for what it was and rejected the common victim mindset. He was proud of her strength and fiercely protective of her now that he knew the flavor of her mind.

“We will have our vengeance, Jehro, you foresaw that. And when the time comes to whet our blades with their blood, remember these tears and make them pay for it.” Tyra said, giving back a little of the comfort he had given her.

Jehro nodded, and quietly, so the guards couldn’t hear, he began to tell her about himself and his past. Then she told him about herself. Together, they passed the time between the beatings and abuse and the hot dusty road until the promised rescue would happen.

Shægnek wished that those in the web of her prophecy didn’t have to suffer so much for it to be fulfilled. But the evil they were going to have to counter had to touch them first in order for them to know how to fight it. She did what she could to ease the pain the Fourth and Fifth were going through right now.

When the time came for Serenity to give her gifts to her champions, each of the other gods would give one as well. As she watched these two learn about what was to come in such a manner, she pondered as to what form her gift would take.

“How can you let this happen, Shægnek?” Their voices sounded in harmony.

“Ne, Na, I hadn’t expected you. The others haven’t come to watch their children very often.”

“Then they are the fools, not we. How can we stop this outrage?”

“Na, you can’t. It’s part of the prophecy. All must be done in order. Just think about what gift you are going to give when the time comes.”

“That’s my daughter down there. There hasn’t been one like her in centuries and you want me to just sit back as this minion of Chaos’s destroys her?”

“Na, again, you knew this was going to happen. She belongs to Serenity now. If you have any problems, talk to her. I am just the keeper of the prophecy; Serenity and Father are the authors.”

“My son, Shægnek, he has done nothing….”

Shægnek softened her voice a little for the small goddess. “Ne, like I told the others, none of the chosen have done anything wrong. They were chosen because they were special, unique from the beginning. Talk to Serenity, she understands much better than I, as you know, I too have a child in the prophecy.”

The twin gods left the library of prophecy in search of their sister. Shægnek sighed. How many more would she send to Serenity as the prophecy progressed and more and more horrible things happened to the chosen, the champions of Serenity? Even those who didn’t have children in the prophecy felt the impact of its fulfillment.

Serenity had given Shægnek the full prophecy for all to read if they so chose. She pulled it out now and read it yet again.

One shall come who will enslave the freemen of Sandeenai and he will be un-opposed. Then shall come the gathering of the Eight.

The First shall be equally a Demon and an Elf,

The Second shall carry the blood of the Dwarf but shall be seen as man.

The Third shall be of royal blood and be as queen to the Siblen,

The Fourth shall be a pure blood of the most puzzling of tribes.

The Fifth shall be a warrior; tall, fierce, and brave,

The Sixth shall be the gentling and be the man for peace.

The Seventh shall be a Wer-Man and know the old tales,

The Eighth shall be the Shadow and steal the Key to peace.

Each alone could take The One down,

but alone they won’t survive,

Yet as a Circle using each new gift,

the Eight shall walk away.

But Sixteen are the points of the Star, so Sixteen shall the Circle be.

And together two shall twain,

with one person for each plane,

to fight the creeping darkness and give light back to

The Star.

When all Eight have joined the Sixteen, and they have come together;

and the binding is in place, both from here and there,

then the Eight shall be immortal, and down they shall cast

The One.

But do not think his reign is done, until the son is seen to die, for if they do not take the twin, then war shall ever live.

In the end what matters most

is not who fulfilled their parts,

But the lessons they learned and took to heart.

Shægnek sighed and put the scroll back on the shelf. It was hard, but these people would be able to do it. They were going through hell now and when the call came, they would be ready.