literature

One Thing Is Clear

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The journey from Koatrah Vizyro to the Gate that led to Entity took a week, which in reality was excellent timing considering the distance that had to be traveled, but Noreat didn't think so. The King wanted to move faster, but a small platoon of maybe fifteen and Damien and his slaves and him could only move so swiftly.  Thankfully, for once King Noreat did not delay the trip by bringing too many things.  He brought only the essentials (and a good amount of clothing), but nothing in too much excess (except for all the clothing, Noreat would have to look his best when he rescued Zephyr after all).

Throughout the race to the Gate Noreat noticed that Damien was more worried than usual.  The King had been acting just like his regular self; the magician really didn't have much to fear.  Besides, the plan Noreat worked out for rescuing Zephyr was brilliant and perfect.  Damien agreed that it was a fairly good plan, but he still acted uncomfortable as they approached the Gate.  Maybe it was just getting to the Gate that was worrying the magician.  The Gate sat nestled away in the mountains, miles from Koatrah Vizyro, and right at the banks of a river.  Everyone in Dwal was afraid of rivers, for good reason, since the River Creatures were known to eat passers-by.  Death by River Creature was hardly common, but it happened enough to warrant caution…

"Why are you so jumpy, Damien?"  Noreat frowned.  "This will be a simple rescue mission.  You have nothing to worry about."

"Do you want my honest opinion, your Majesty?"

Normally he wouldn't but since he needed Damien at his best for the moment, the King nodded.  The bodyguard sucked in a worried breath and shook his head.

"We have no proof that Iridesia has usurped her father, just a cryptic message from a now dead bird.  We have no idea what is going on in Entity and it has been two months, and Geofek was at war last time I heard—"

"In the last letter I received from King Zephyr he explained that the war was almost over."

Noreat decided it was best not to tell Damien that Zephyr had been quite confused by this fact.  In his letters, Zephyr said that Yman was hardly fighting.  What they were fighting was no true war, it was just bands of Aishalan resistance, not Ymanians.  Zephyr had been greatly confused by this in his last letter.  He had explained that Queen Serfina was not the type of adversary to just give up entirely…

But that was neither here nor there.  Maybe Iridesia hadn't usurped the throne or maybe she had.  The King had done his best to spend as little time with Zephyr's daughter as possible so Noreat didn't know how ambitious she was and he didn't know how strongly she felt about her father.  Noreat knew Zephyr coveted his daughter, but who was to say Iridesia reciprocated those feelings?  She could have been plotting this for years, and because of Noreat she had the excuse to vent her rage!  No, this was definitely all of Iridesia's doing!  King Noreat was going to capture that golden-haired bitch and force her to give him Zephyr back!

Last day of their trek to the Gate was ending.  The King and his soldiers made it to the Gate while the sun was still up, but half a day was already gone.  They had enough time to cross into Entity and make camp in the woods by the Gate on Entity's side.  While they hardly got as far as Noreat wanted, at least getting into Entity would solve this mess.  The sun was inching towards the horizon lazily as Noreat and Damien walked ahead of their soldiers, going straight for the Gate.

Absent-mindedly, Noreat pawed at the new chain around his neck.  Everett had come (and died) in Dwal with his collar still on and…Noreat had wanted the black metal gryphon charm it wore.  The bird was dead!  It didn't need the charm anymore!  So before the bird was buried Noreat took the charm and put it on a silver chain.  Unlike Zephyr, who proudly showed the pendant Noreat had given him, Noreat hid the necklace under his clothes.  No one needed to know he took it.  Once he saved Zephyr he would wear it out in the open.

"Are you alright, your Majesty?"  Damien asked quietly.

"Quite fine.  Let's just get to the portal and into Entity before it is the black of night."

"We do not have to worry about that, the Gate is just past these trees," the magician motioned ahead.

The King quickened his pace just a bit.  He trotted in front of Damien, wanting the dart through the Gate first.  The Gate always opened for Noreat in the past, (though he had used it rarely) and something told him he should get there first.  Hopefully time moved slower in Entity—it was hard to tell the time differences between world since the Gate had some sort of equalizing affect that made the time between Entity and Dwal pass at the same rate.   The King was hoping they would cross through the worlds with time to find a clearing away from the Gate and closer to Des'Tailer.  The trees ahead parted and just beyond them was the Gate, waiting to open and allow Noreat to save Zephyr.

"…Great God and Goddess…" King Noreat gasped, staring at the Gate.

The Gate wasn't supposed to look like this.  On any other day the Gate looked just like it sounded, a large stone doorway.  Framing the Gate were cylindrical pillars in each side, at one time it was easy to see the scripture carved into the stone, but with time came curious plants, and now the Gate was wreathed in flora of all types.  While the Gates didn't look like much, they were ancient, powerful pieces of the magic.  They were statues of a knowledge and strength that the magicians of Noreat's time could not hope to touch.

And now there was something wrong with the Gate to Entity.  The only way to describe the Gate now was to say that…the Gate was sick.  The stone doorway was coated in painted, crimson red symbols.  They were circles within circles within circles with curling lines and dots that looked like letters similar to Georn but far more primeval.  A sick red light came from the Gate, as if the portal was struggling against the blood colored circles and begging to open, but it couldn't.  What was this?  The Gates were some of the best-kept secrets in Dwal.  Only King Noreat, the magicians, and a few select others knew of it!  Who would defile such a thing?  It was madness, not to mention treason too!

King Noreat was suddenly aware of the fact that Damien was standing beside him, his eyes wide with the same fear and confusion that Noreat felt.  The soldiers hung back behind the trees before the Gate's clearing.  The King and his bodyguard were silent for almost a minute, their minds running in circles and trying to understand what they were seeing.  After that almost minute Noreat addressed Damien.

"What happened to the Gate?  What is this mess?"  He asked quietly.

Damien shook his head just barely.

"It…I know this," the magician said hesitantly.

"Explain it to me," Noreat demanded.

"This…is a very ancient and dangerous type of Entity magic.  You remember the seal magic I showed you?"

"You mean to say this is all red paint stopping the Gate from opening?  Then wash it off!"  Noreat demanded.

"It is not so simple your Majesty," Damien said gravely.  "These are bloodseals.  Tevint was reluctant to tell me much about them, and any tomes on them were restricted and I was never permitted to read them.  All I do know is that these seals were made with blood, either by the maker themselves or…sacrifices…"

These seals were hardly small and they were far from plain.  They were intricate delicate drawings that encircled the entire face of the ancient Gate.  One body would not be enough for a bloodseal like this.

"It's a barbaric old magic, at least that is what Tevint said," Damien continued.  "It is used very little, and only certain people are allowed to learn it.  Tevint knew some but I don't know if he could do something…like this," the magician motioned to the Gate.

"How do we undo this?  We have to go to Entity!"  The King was maybe starting to panic.

Damien's grim expression did not help ease Noreat's unease.  Noreat's stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots as the magician shook his head.

"We can do nothing from our side."

"That is impossible!  King Zephyr gave you a tome on seal magic, it must have something to help with this!"

"I told you, I was not permitted any knowledge on bloodseals!"  The magician almost shouted.  "Bloodseals are different than other seals!  They all have a specific removing seal—even if I knew what all the ancient symbols of this one meant I would have no idea what symbols would counteract these ones!"

"What are you saying?"  Noreat's voice wavered slightly, a drop of fear worming into his tone.

"That one thing is clear: until the one who made this bloodseal takes it off, we are not going to Entity."


"You're an idiot!"  Makar hissed, grabbing her wrist and wrapping a bandage roughly over her hand.

Thankfully the gashes to her palms were not as deep as they appeared.  Most of the blood she was coated in was not her own.  He managed to heal up her wounds, but not completely.  Her palms would scar, and she would learn from her mistakes.  She turned to the side and mumbled something incoherent as he pulled the bandages tight across her hands.

"You lied to me, you lied to your hunter-sister, you lied to Elixander, and you lied to the Kafta!  All for what?  For this?!"

The owl feral motioned to the portal.  She had drawn bloodseals all over it.  Like a fool she had taken the little bit of knowledge he had given her on the dangerous art and misused it!  Makar wasn't even sure what the hunter had done.  This bloodseal was far more complicated than anything he had ever made.  He never would have imagined a bloodseal like this!  All he did was give her one small tome, a few little lessons, and a book on runes and she did this.

The Serevaste shaman jerked her other hand forward and started to roughly bandage that one too.  She made a soft whimpering noise but didn't fight.  Months ago she would have fought and kicked and screamed and told Makar he had no right to touch her.  Now that she had become one of the Serevaste, now that she had a place and a family in the tribe, she did not fight half as much.  The tribe offered her peace and hunting gave her an independence she had never experienced within the walls of her kingdom.  

She even confided in Makar on the rare occasion.  Though, apparently in their last conversation the girl had used her gifted silver tongue to trick him into revealing more about the ancient magics than he should…

"…I had to Makar," she croaked.

"Had to is a subjective term, hunter," he growled.

"I had to!  You know I did!"  Now she was getting louder.

"You had to do nothing, Iridesia!  We did everything you asked, followed your insane plan just as you asked!  Eli got an arrow through his arm and Gijin had her arm slashed and I was inches away from that beast!  But we did it for you, and then you went and did this madness?  How many times did you come into my hut crying about your father's love for the man beyond this gateway?  How many times did you tell me you hated him and that this was all his fault?"

"Stop it," Iridesia looked away and shut her eyes.

"Why would you protect a man you've dreamt of destroying?"

"I DID IT FOR MY FATHER!"  She screamed.

Makar halted his lecture.  Tears were streaming down Iridesia's dirt and blood stained face.  Her choppy golden hair fell in a short mess around her neck.  She jerked her hand away from his and wrapped her arms around her stomach.  Shivers racked her body as she pulled her knees up and curled against the tree she had been propped up against.

"I don't know what that creature has left of my father.  I don't know if he's alive or if he's a body that Seriyaru keeps so that he can continue to delude Geofek into believing he is the real King.  I don't know if my father even remembers me at this point…  I don't even know if he remembers Noreat anymore.  But I know this: if he is alive, if the gods have answered any one of my prayers, then he would want Noreat to live.  And even if I hate that little rat with everything in me, even if he stole my father from me and tricked my father into falling in love with him…I will keep him safe," the hunter sniffed and rubbed a bandaged and raw hand against her cheek.  

"I will make sure Noreat lives for my father, not for him.  Because if Seriyaru were to get his claws into Noreat he would destroy him before my father's eyes…and my father does not deserve to watch two of his beloveds die while he can do nothing."

The hunter turned a harsh gaze to Makar.

"You and the tribe taught me to put others before myself.  That is why I made up this elaborate ruse.  That is why I had you steal the crown, had Gijin steal Everett, had Eli cover our tracks, and why I stole Titan.  If my warning made it to Noreat maybe he will be wise and sit in his palace and never come back to Entity."

"Never?"  Makar echoed.  "You cannot seriously believe that all hope for your father is lost.  What if he escapes?"

"It has been two months, Makar.  Even if Seriyaru is keeping him alive how much of my father is left at this point?"

"You cannot give up on him."

"I have not.  I pray for him every night, but I have to be realistic."

"What about a rescue?"

"Impossible.  I have already squandered yours and everyone else's trust in me for my own selfish gains."

"Don't you twist my words on me, hunter," the owl feral hissed.

"Tell me it isn't true."

"It isn't," Gijin appeared in the clearing.

Gijin had one of Eli's arms slung over her shoulders.  Makar had removed the arrow from the purple shigen's arm, but he was still very weak.  Still, true to his nature, the shigen was smiling beneath his mess of dark purple hair and scraggly matching beard.

"It was fun to fight those things," Eli said plainly.

Makar huffed.  "You always run straight into danger, dragon."

"It is what I am good at."

The shaman rolled his eyes.  Elixander let go of his tiger feral and leaned against the tree Iridesia had sought refuge against.  Gijin went to help Iridesia to her feet.

"Still selfish like the princess you were.  But you did right in the end.  Makar should not be so angry," the tiger feral caste a sideways glance at Makar.

"I am allowed to be upset.  Look what she did," he pointed to the mess next to the ancient door.

Three slaughtered men lay on the ground.  Iridesia must have led them to the portal and killed them here.  Their blood and hers was used to create the intricate bloodseals that cut off Entity from the other world.  The men had been some of Seriyaru's followers, and while Makar would not shed a tear over their deaths he was concerned over Iridesia's radical departure from her new normal-self.  Bloodseals were dangerous, and some makers became addicted to the power they held.  He did not want to see a hunter of his fall into madness because of her need for vengeance.  If she did it would be his responsibility to stop her…

"Do not worry so much, shaman," Gijin was still smiling.  "I will watch my hunter-sister.  She will not fall prey to the call of the ancient spirits.  Isn't that right?"

"Fine.  We have to return to the tribe anyways," Makar grumbled.  "It is still weeks away by foot and the Kafta will want a report."


King Noreat hadn't said more than two words to any given person the entire walk back from the bloodsealed Gate to the palace.  He ate, he drank, he breathed, but he didn't speak.  What was there to say?  That Iridesia had gone above and beyond the call of duty to keep Noreat separated from his love?  That Zephyr was clearly in danger and that Noreat was literally, completely, and utterly powerless to help the only person he ever cared about?  There were no words.

A week later King Noreat was finally back at his palace.  He could feel his steely reserve waning.  He had done an excellent job of holding back everything he had felt for the past week.  By keeping quiet and forcing himself to march back to the palace he managed to suppress all of his thoughts and emotions.  But now he was back home—back to an empty and cold and dark home without Zephyr.  He had swore to himself when he left he wouldn't return without Zephyr.  Noreat didn't break promises, not promises like that.  

The King didn't even register the fact that he had walked up the stairs to his bedroom.  He hadn't noticed that Damien had been walking in his shadow, the bodyguard's expression becoming more and more worried.  Noreat didn't want to see or talk to Damien.

"I will send for Tien.  She will help you through this," Damien explained.

"Leave," Noreat ordered as he reached the door to his room.

"You shouldn't be alone right now, your Majesty," the magician argued.

The King glared at Damien behind him.  What did Damien know?  He had no right to tell the King what he should and shouldn't do!  Noreat just needed some time to himself.  Seeing or talking to people wouldn't help this situation!  He couldn't lose his cool, not yet, he wasn't alone and the door wasn't shut.

"I will see no one!  Now get out!"

The magician wanted to hesitate, Noreat could see it, but after a second of shifting uncomfortably in place he bowed and backed out of the King's room.  The door shut quietly behind Noreat.

The King stood in the threshold of his room.  A slight shiver ran through him.  He had to carefully take down the wall he had built over the past week.  He was rather impressed with himself; it was a good mental wall.  It had held back the floodgate of a thousand emotions rather effectively for the past week.  His body felt mechanical as he went over to his desk on the other side of the room.  In his mind he was carefully picking stones out of the wall.

There were a few scattered papers sitting on his desk.  A couple had scribbles of words scratched onto the parchment.  Noreat had been fancying the idea of sending his own letter to Zephyr before Everett and Titan arrived.  However, he had soon learned that he was terrible at writing his own letters.  He didn't know what to ask Zephyr, how to ask if he was alright, how to not sound combative (because every time he reread his words he thought they sounded harsh).  The letters mocked him from his desk.  He didn't send them and now they were perfectly useless.  Look at the parchment and ink he wasted!  Another brick came out of the wall, it groaned and started to lean.  His fingers curled against the parchment.  What if he had finished just one of these stupid letters?  What if he had sent a messenger earlier?  He could have saved Zephyr before Iridesia usurped him! Another brick, the wall was leaning and making pained noises.  He hated these letters!

The last brick that needed to come out was pulled free.  The wall Noreat had built to stop his emotions tumbled down with a crash.  Rage and pain flooded his entire body.  Noreat threw the useless pieces of expensive parchment from his desk.  The ink was worse!  Black and heartless, like Iridesia, who cruelly kept Noreat from Zephyr.  He grabbed the vial of ink and chucked it across the room shouting.  It shattered and rolling inky blackness stained his expensive carpet.

Something else needed to be destroyed.  Noreat was shaking with so much pent up energy.  How had he kept this in for a week?  He darted over to his bed and grabbed the curtains.  For a spare moment he wanted to stop, what good was this doing?  Another second later the rage was back and shouting in his ears.  He tore the curtains off their rings.  There was a painful metallic ringing as the rings were relieved of their cloth charges.

Rage had a funny effect on people, as Noreat suddenly noted.  One second it gave him limitless energy, the next his limbs felt fuzzy and cold.  He was shivering with the remnants of his anger and sat down on his bed.  The rage was slowly turning to despair, and Noreat held his head as it started to ache.  What was he supposed to do now?  He could tear his room apart, he could level his castle, he could pour oil into the rivers and anger the River Creatures, but that would help nothing!  The Door would still be defiled with those bloodseals and Zephyr would still be in danger and Noreat was powerless!  The King was powerless!  What was the point of being King and having limitless abilities when he couldn't use them to do the one thing he needed them to?  Why did his eyes feel so hot?  His fingers brushed against cool metal, Noreat's crown.  The crown on his head was just as useless as the letters Noreat didn't send.  He ripped the exquisite piece of gold off his head and threw it to the floor.

"It's not fair!"  Noreat screamed to his ceiling.

Hot tears seeped out from under Noreat's eyelids.  Tears!  Noreat had never cried in his life, not even when he was a child!  He was too strong for tears!  Kings didn't cry!  And yet here he was, crying like a child because he didn't have Zephyr!  He tried to brush the clear hot tears from his cheek, but for everyone one he removed another slipped down his cheek.

Noreat's bedroom felt large, empty, dark, and cold.  He sat on his bed, paralyzed with despair and pain as just a few more tears inched their way down his cheeks.  What was going to happen to Zephyr?  What was Noreat supposed to do in this position?  Sit and wait and hope?  Kings didn't sit and wait and hope!  But he had no choice.  Kings always had the choice to do something, and here Noreat sat, with no control over anything—not even himself!

A pathetic sound, a sniffle or whimper, escaped Noreat and he pressed his palm to one of his eyes.  He didn't want to feel like this.  He should have brought Zephyr back to Dwal with him!  Hang that stupid war of his, it was ending anyways!  Something warm was resting against Noreat's knee.  He didn't want to see anyone!  Didn't he shut the door?  He opened his eyes, and at first his vision was blurry, but a second later he could see Mother resting her head on his knee.  Something in her soft yellow eyes made him think that she knew what was going on.  The ferrin knew her master was in pain and needed aid.  Another pathetic sound escaped him and he wrapped his arms around her neck.  Mother let him hug her, let him press his face into her soft tan fur, and let him muffle his pathetic cries against her neck.

"He's not dead," Noreat whispered into Mother's neck.

Mother shifted in his grasp.  The King picked his red-face out of her fur and pet the ferrin he had come to admire so much over these past few months.

"Zephyr wouldn't just die," the King explained.  "He's alive.  I know he is.  Just watch, he'll be back soon.  I know he will."
Well, so much for that rescue mission, huh Noreat? Looks like Iridesia goes and has to mess up everything. >:[ Though to be fair, she was doing this to keep both Noreat and Zephyr (if he's alive) safe.

No, I'm not going to tell you what all has happened to Iridesia in this time span. Suffice to say, she's become one of the Serevaste, and originally this was not her choice. But she didn't have many options and if she wanted to live she would have to stoop to the level of the Sebelzan Wilders.

As for Noreat, I loved writing his mental breakdown. I always have way too much fun breaking down a character, and *mistytang's lovely illustration helped me get his feelings down just wonderfully. Noreat's not used to not being in control of a situation, and this must be tearing him to pieces.

There's no real reason why the ferrin is named "Mother" other than the fact that she is a mother. I don't think Noreat is the most imaginative with names, and Mother suited her fine. :} You can read deeper meaning into the name if you like, but you'd have to talk to *mistytang to see if any of that is true. ;)

*mistytang originally drew part of this scene, I just wrote around it! --> [link] LOOK AT IT, FOR IT IS INSPIRING AND AMAZING.

Oh hey, even more art from Misty, NOW LOOK!
[link]


Tee hee. I'm having too much fun wreaking havoc on our characters. :chainsaw:

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King Noreat, Damien, Dwal, Gates © :iconmistytang:
Iridesia, Makar, Gijin, Elixander, Bloodseals © Me
© 2011 - 2024 GrimReapette
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rachelillustrates's avatar
Oh sad :( Poor Zephyr, of course, but poor Noreat. I think you wrote his breakdown (and his control before it) very beautifully.