Children of Semyaza Read online

  “I haven’t sorted him yet, but I was going to put him against Warwick.”

  Kalder nodded. “Can we change it?”

  “I… well, yes. Rumsfeld is…”

  “Put him against Wayland.”

  Shajan said nothing as she flicked her wrist toward the parchment and Wayland’s name appeared beside Garrick’s. She didn’t like what Garrick’s presence was doing to her Kal. The Kal she knew was calm, stern and fair. But ever since the Nink showed up, he seemed disturbed, paranoid and illogical. As much as she hated the man he was becoming, she knew she was beholden to him regardless. Therefore, she acquiesced without question.

  She could only pity the Nink. Wayland wasn’t one to hold back.

  Garrick lost his determination for a second as he struggled to understand why a member of the Gore Council was approaching him with the deadliest weapon ever crafted. “There must be…” he began but was instantly interrupted by the swinging long sword coming straight for his bare neck. Instinct kicked in as he bent backwards to avoid the glistening blade. Losing his balance, he fell on his back but was forced to pick himself up instantly as Wayland swung at him again. This time his sword slit his left leg and the pain that accompanied it was blinding. But he had no time to scream in agony as he continued to parry subsequent attacks. There was little skill in Garrick’s evasive maneuvers mostly due to his utter confusion by the surprise opponent. Fear also had a lot to do with his carelessness—everyone knew of Wayland’s prowess with that accursed sword. But it didn’t take him long to figure out what was happening.

  This was Kal’s work.

  “Relax”, he scolded himself, “You have the Cravers! You’re unstoppable with them!” He regained his balance and began to clash blades with his opponent. Wayland’s expression was a mixture of approval and disgust. He sped up his attacks accordingly and Garrick’s body was marked by several more cuts until he was on the floor again.

  “I see,” scoffed Wayland. “Your potential is indeed outstanding. I can see why he wants you dead.”

  “How am I a threat?” asked Garrick incredulously. “I just want to be done with this and move out of Terraincardia!”

  “Then why parade yourself as the Ambler?”

  “I’ve never done that! I don’t care about the Ambler! I just want to be an Incardian.”

  Wayland said nothing for some time as if he contemplated letting him go. Deep down, Garrick hoped he would, but knew it was unlikely. Wayland was also notorious for his incorruptible fealty to Kal. And in another instant, Wayland’s sword found its way toward Garrick’s neck again.

  Garrick was prepared this time.

  He had thrown one of his Cravers toward Wayland’s face. Naturally, he easily moved his head away and let it pass him but hitting him wasn’t the point of Garrick’s maneuver. Wayland was indubitably more skilled and stronger, and though he never had a chance to try this with Ingrid, there was one thing he had learned about fighting a stronger opponent.

  Always fight dirty.

  Garrick threw the other Craver toward Wayland’s leg and jumped to grab the Orlock Claymore from him. This was probably the biggest risk he had ever taken. By going straight for the very weapon that could end him, he could easily lose his head if Wayland didn’t look down to dodge the incoming weapon. And Garrick thought he was done for when he noticed Wayland hadn’t looked down. But then, the force he had used to throw the second weapon sent it flying toward him with immense speed and gave him no other alternative but to look down to avoid it.

  Garrick’s gambit was successful! He quickly grabbed the hilt with one hand and with as much strength as he could muster punched the Incardian noble in the groin. He didn’t give the reddened Wayland a chance to compose himself and snatched the sword, hit him in the face with the butt of the hilt and rested the blade on his neck.

  “You sonuvabitch!” yelled a dewy-eyed Wayland.

  A subtle smirk had formed on Garrick’s face. He did not betray the joy he felt because he knew Wayland would note it and consider it an opening to try something else.

  Between heavy breaths, Garrick said one word. “Yield.”

  “Wayland is nothing more than a fatuous myrmidon whose only reason for existing is to blindly follow Kal!” said an enraged Octavius. Garrick was recuperating from the effects of his wounds in Warwick’s tent in the Upper Regions shortly after the trials. Rummy occasionally gave him a puff or two of rapturedust to help him with the pain he felt from the cuts on his body, while Octavius paced around displaying a rage Garrick found to be out of character for his often-unruffled mentor.

  “It’s amazing you survived,” said Warwick, a mixture of fascination and concern on his face. “I wouldn’t want to face Wayland with that sword, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I cheated,” said Garrick faintly. “I was sure I was done for.”

  “And what can I do? Take him to Kal? What good would that do when the damned High Lord of Terraincardia is in on it? I cannot let this go without reply!” Octavius continued fuming.

  It wasn’t long before Octavius had a companion to rage alongside him as Ingrid walked in and looked at the half-conscious Garrick lying amid red smoke.

  “I’ll kill him!” she declared. “I’m taking that sword of his and shoving it down his throat!”

  Warwick looked askance at her and, in jest, asked: “Why do you care, Grid?” But almost instantly he regretted his decision when she shot him an icy scowl. “Okay,” he continued, trying his best to seem serious. “I think we’re forgetting something else that’s pretty important here.” The four of them fixed their sights on Warwick awaiting an explanation. “Well… Garrick came out alive. He’s no longer a Nink.”

  Garrick was so overcome with relief for emerging from the pocket realm alive he had completely forgotten the significance of doing so—he had become a full-fledged Incardian. This meant he could leave his Questioner’s side; he could leave and return to Terraincardia whenever he chose. Not only was he his own man—he was part of something bigger. A bona fide Incardian. And Warwick was correct—everyone had forgotten because Octavius and Ingrid were suddenly smiling, and Rummy patted his chest and congratulated him.

  “Ceremony’s over and the Oneness has burst,” said Warwick. “We’ll be leaving now. See you up there some time.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Ingrid. “I should probably be leaving as well. I do have other commitments on earth, after all.”

  Garrick was sad to hear the only friends he had talking about leaving, but he was saddened even more by Rummy’s silence. Being unable to leave Terraincardia must have been too much to bear.

  “Very well,” said a more subdued Octavius. “If you all don’t mind, I would like a moment alone with Garrick.”

  As they all left the tent, Ingrid looked over her shoulder and said: “find me some time.” Garrick nodded in response.

  Octavius sat on a stool. “I’ll also be leaving. Though I’m having second thoughts now that I know Kal’s willing to go so far to get you out of the picture.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Garrick assured him. “I’ll be out of here the moment I recover from these wounds. In the meantime, I’ll have Rummy here to protect me.”

  “You better,” said Octavius. “Wounds from the Orlock Claymore will never heal if you come back before you’ve recovered. It shouldn’t be too long. Be patient.” Garrick nodded. “Now,” he resumed. “We have something important to discuss.”

  Garrick knew what Octavius was thinking and decided to speak first. “I’m not interested in her anymore.”

  Octavius seemed impressed. “Miss Hagen?”

  Garrick nodded. “I’ve overcome the Glare. I’m not going back to Reading. I decided a long time ago.”

  Octavius laughed softly. “I am pleased to hear it. If you truly have moved beyond human animosities, I believe this is the time to set you on your path.”

  Garrick sucked his teeth in exasperation. “Octavius, I almost got killed because of this Ambler stuff.”
r />   “This needs to be said,” he insisted. “You have a natural ability that needs to be honed and mastered. I am referring to the Knoxian Heightening spell. You need to be schooled by someone far greater than myself on how to use it.”

  This caught Garrick’s attention. “Knox himself?” Octavius nodded. “And where do I find him?”

  “You’ll receive instructions when you return. But know this, wherever he may be, you won’t find him until he wants to see you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “For instance, I looked for him once and received word he was in Geneva, but I didn’t know exactly where in Geneva. So, I went there and waited until he was ready for me. It must have taken six months before he contacted me.” Garrick was visibly irritated by this condition. “I know it’s annoying, but he insists on operating that way. With him, patience is everything.”

  “And when will I see you?”

  Octavius stood up. “Don’t worry, my friend. We’ll meet again.” He stretched his hand toward him, and they shook hands amicably before he walked out. Shortly after, the effects of the rapturedust had taken hold of him and he was fast asleep.

  As he stepped out of the tent, Octavius saw Ingrid standing with arms akimbo. She walked up to him and asked, “are you going to see him?”

  “At this point, I have to.”

  Ingrid nodded. “Then I’m going with you.”

  Kal sat down on an unassuming chair as he waited for his fellow Assenters. He never flaunted his position when he was with them—he didn’t see the point. A servant had announced they were on their way to meet him and he waited eagerly. Once they were in the room, he stood up and asked them to sit. They were both clearly angry with him but did not raise their voices as they said hello and sat down.

  “It’s so good you could make out time to see me before leaving,” Kal said. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t.”

  “You haven’t been very welcoming of late,” said Octavius.

  “Please. You misunderstand me as usual, Colin.”

  Octavius had no problem being addressed by his birth name. But at that time, he did not want Kal to treat him like a little brother. “Listen,” he began. “You broke every rule I can think of to kill my Assenter.”

  “No, I’m pretty sure there’s no rule that says I can’t choose instructors for the trial,” he replied matter-of-factly.

  “You tried to kill my Assenter!” Octavius repeated.

  “You mean that impostor? I will not have you tarnish the memory of our Questioner, Colin. I don’t care what I have to do.”

  “But can’t you see? He is Volant’s copy!”

  “Exactly!” Kal was standing. “A copy! Who knows what you did to make him happen?”

  Octavius was offended by this. “You’re being unreasonable.”

  “We both know Volant died to save us all. He fulfilled the prophecy long before now. He chose to give his life for us.”

  “There you go again misinterpreting Gusoyn’s prophecy.”

  “Nothing in Gusoyn’s prophecy suggests that the Ambler will die and reincarnate.”

  “Knox gave me his word!”

  “Knox! You believe the word of a Magirev? Have you lost your mind?”

  Ingrid finally spoke in a cool and measured tone. “Garrick remembers bits and pieces of Volant’s life, Kal. How do you explain that?”

  Kal scoffed and walked to a table to pour himself and his guests a drink. He passed them a cup each and sat back down. “Knox is possibly the most powerful being on earth,” he said. “Who knows what magic he has conjured to create this impostor Colin insists on parading as Volant reborn!”

  Although he had taken the drink offered, Octavius was almost Glaring at that point. He took a sip from his cup and looked back at Kal with fire in his eyes. “You stay away from my Assenter, Kal. I will not ask again.”

  Kal chuckled. “He is no longer a Nink,” he said. “Anything can happen to him now.”

  “Kal, please?” Ingrid said. “I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

  Kal looked askance at Ingrid. “Fine,” he finally said. He looked back at Octavius who seemed to have calmed down as he continued drinking and said, “but I still believe your Assenter is a fake. I’ll be keeping a close eye on him, you can believe that.”

  “Sometimes I wish you’d trust me more, Kal,” said Octavius as he dropped the cup on the floor and walked out.

  Ingrid, who was the calmest during the entire encounter, stood up and hugged Kal. “I’ll admit,” she said, “I had my doubts at first. But the longer I’ve been with him, Kal.”

  “It’s the Magirev playing tricks on you,” he said stoically. “But don’t worry. The sham will be exposed soon enough. We all loved Volant and want more than anything to see him again—but not like this. Not by lessening the impact of his sacrifice.”

  Ingrid said nothing more as she walked out as well. Almost as if on cue, Shajan sauntered in. “That went well,” she said.

  The days that followed were not as eventful. Garrick, for the first time, enjoyed his newfound celebrity status in Terraincardia. Not only did he cause an Ousting, he had defeated a sitting member of the Gore Council in one-on-one combat. However, the stories of the encounter had taken ridiculous creative twists over time. One version claimed that Garrick had personally asked for the matchup and, at some point during the encounter, yelled for all members of the Gore council to face him. These stories did little to endear him to Kal who dreaded the attention he was receiving. Garrick felt Kal only had himself to blame for it all—if he’d just let him face Warwick, no one would remember him.

  Kolten took the time to teach Garrick the different ways to utilize the Fourth. It was primarily a tool for communication between related Incardians, but with enough training and will-power, could be utilized as a weapon. Garrick did not learn how to use it to cause anyone harm but was pretty masterful when it came to communicating with Kolten from long distances.

  Rummy turned out to be a very pleasant companion as well. They never really had a chance to chat while the others were in Terraincardia, but with just the two of them, they often talked about philosophy, politics and literature—topics they both shared mutual interests in. Among other things, Rummy was fascinated by Garrick’s stories about his frustrations growing up and how he blamed God for all of it.

  “So, what you’re saying,” said Rummy during one of their many discussions, “is that if there really was a God who is all-knowing, all-loving and all-powerful, you would not have suffered as much as you did?”

  “Well, that’s how I felt before I was Questioned,” Garrick answered. “But now I know it is absolutely true God exists, and it makes me wonder why I was left to suffer so much if God loves us all.”

  Rummy sipped his minka and curiously looked at the starless sky. “Maybe because you are an Incardian? I’d assume that your suffering would be beneficial to God considering the source of your existence is a corruption in its eyes.”

  Garrick was struck by the realization. He had never considered that.

  Before long, his wounds were fully healed, and it was time to leave Terraincardia. His feeling of guilt was obvious to Rummy who constantly told him not to worry about it. “Just say hello to my grandson for me,” he said as they headed to the ziggurat. The closer they got, they noticed Hagen and Wayland deep in conversation on the path. Rummy suggested they took another route, but Garrick insisted he spoke to his former uncle.

  “My Lords Hagen, Wayland,” he said as he bowed his head in their direction. Hagen’s mien seemed apathetic. Wayland’s face, on the other hand, twisted as if he’d been approached by a noisome creature. Ignoring this, Garrick turned to Hagen and requested a minute of his time. This was enough to send Wayland storming away. “The stories aren’t true,” said Garrick when the Keeper was out of earshot.

  “I didn’t think they were,” admitted Hagen. “But I do enjoy the effect they have on him, so I act like I believe it all.”


  Garrick chuckled. “I’m leaving now.” Hagen said nothing. “I just wanted to let you know,” he continued, “that Celina is no longer my concern. I’m not interested in revenge anymore. I have a new life now and I just want to live it and leave the old one behind.”

  The aged Incardian looked impressed and nodded in approval. “I do appreciate you telling me this.”

  “I have a question, though.” He waited for permission to continue. Hagen gave it with a slight nod of his head. “Who were my parents?”

  Hagen’s mind was teleported back to the stormy night of Garrick’s birth. The young mother’s dead eyes dug a hole in his mind he could not fill. “Your mother’s name was Camilla,” he said. “Camilla Kesgaila. That’s all I know. We couldn’t find anything more about her. No parents, husband or siblings. There were no Kesgailos in Reading.”

  This was enough information for Garrick as he nodded pensively. Even the final confirmation of his Kesgaila heritage didn’t move him as much as he expected it to. He decided to ask one more question before rejoining Rummy who waited cautiously not too far from them. “Do I need to worry about the High Lord up there?”

  Hagen smirked. “Don’t draw too much attention to yourself and you should be fine.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” he joked as he turned to leave.

  Hagen stretched out his hand. Seeing this, Garrick took it and they shook hands like old friends. However, Hagen didn’t let go. “I’m sure you’d understand if I still make the necessary arrangements to ensure my daughter’s safety,” he said, reverting to his serious self. Garrick nodded in response and followed Rummy to the ziggurat.

  At the top, Garrick took a moment to appreciate the eerie beauty of the Oneness before turning to his fellow Assenter. “So, I just walk in?”