Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 12

Closing his eyes within the temple of the Masans for the last time had been hard, but saying goodbye to Shanisha bordered on impossible. Dathion had found the monk outside the front of the temple, facing away and gazing into the distance - past the gates through which the Asillians had first entered. He approached quietly. Shanisha looked small and fragile against the backdrop of the immense mountains. All around, the brisk morning wind pulled puppet strings, making the limbs of trees dance and skipping small stones across the path. However, defying its will, the robes of the monk hung straight - unmoved.

Shanisha's head tilted ever so slightly at Dathion's approach. He hoped it was acknowledgment that he had been noticed.

"I guess this is goodbye, Shanisha. Thank you for everything."

The monk didn't turn, but despite the rush of the wind, Shanisha's voice found Dathion's ears as clearly as it did in the silence of the temple.

"Every ending is necessary, Dathion. Without them there would be no new beginnings."

"Careful, Shanisha. Soon I too may be talking in riddles. If I do, Jerodai's anger may prove more deadly than running on the edges of knives."

Shanisha turned to face Dathion and treated him to a rare smile. Something about it touched him deeply. Shanisha had the purest smile he had ever seen. Dathion continued.

"So what will you do now, after we leave?"

"What I have always done. I will prepare. Enlightenment is wasted on those who do not seek to understand it. My destiny ... is to be prepared for my destiny."

Dathion's struggle to understand the words lulled him into silence. There was nothing more to say. This ending felt perfect.

When Dathion turned back to face the temple, he was startled by a pair of monks. Dathion looked back at Shanisha one last time, before allowing the Masans to usher him back through the temple to the mountain paths located at the rear. Their new route was past and above both the gardens they had tended, and the river where Shanisha had entertained Dathion. The first trail they had scaled had been a trial to test the fortitude of visitors, but this one curled gracefully along flat rocks, before snaking around a hillock to disappear into the lands of the Cerds.

Straining to determine what lay ahead, Dathion could discern patches of white at the edge of his vision - the beginning of snow and ice. Dathion knew beds of snow would be their road for many days, with Cerdic lands forever blanketed by heavy banks.

While he waited for his companions to assemble, his thoughts drifted back to Malithas's words about the Cerds. Their meager existence was based on frugal gifts from their ice-blasted lands. This gave the Cerdic warriors great strength wrested from the trials of adversity, not unlike some of the plants in the Masan gardens. Malithas had said that each Cerdic warrior possessed the strength of two Asillians. Having witnessed the power displayed by some of the Royal Honor Guard, Dathion was dubious. In mere days he would discover the answer for himself, a sobering thought.

Before long, the remainder of the Asillians appeared from the temple to join him. Malithas stepped forward to place an armored hand on Dathion's shoulder.

"You've said your goodbyes?"

Dathion nodded. He cast back over Malithas's hand for a final glimpse of Shanisha; however, the temple blocked his view.

"I just wondered, because I believe that this is the first time you've ever woken and dressed before us. This event is so unprecedented, that once I became aware, I consulted with the Grand Master to determine whether this is an enigma that only he understands. That, Dathion of Asillia, is why I am late. As for the others, I think there are no good excuses. They're just lazy."