Avenger's Pathe

Chapter Four- Unpleasant Surprise

The witch gazes at the bones laying before her and spits curses. She couldn't believe her eyes; but she could not, would not ignore the warning. Not this time. The Awakening was fast approaching; as sure as the burning Ol'finaren pits, but had not thought it would happen so soon. Not after the last incident. She hoped she would have at least another century to recover from the last blow. Preparation was the key and procrastination was her biggest fault. She should have prepared ages ago but she ignored the signs like a child hiding under the covers, believing if she hid from it, the monster would soon go away. But this monster was real, very real, and powerful enough to end the world into darkness and could not be combated by hiding. If the world could get rid of their problems by hiding, well, the world would be a utopia.

The witch had been wrong to help him. As punishment mother had cursed her to live forever wandering on the earth, to aid her children in defeating the cursed creatures that gave their hearts and soul to their master for power. She couldn't rest until she had put Darcith in his final resting place.

Silently cursing herself for being dim, she began to prepare.

The bones clearly indicated the Kunidar had chosen their master. May the Dyu's have mercy for the poor soul who has them in their possession.

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Shyri sighed as she glanced at her bones that were sprawled on the little Feyan table. The signs were as clear as a summer day, ignoring them would be a lethal mistake.

"Every time he wakes, he grows stronger. That Dyu damned cursed witch was wrong to help him and soon, very soon he will be strong enough to possess the Scroll of Life. If that should ever happen, even the Dyu's wouldn't be able to stop him. May they have mercy on our poor souls, possessing the scroll will bring him closer to the Key. Time is not on our side. Pray to the Dyu's  this time I'm not too late."

 Picking up the bones, she put them back into the ceramic container.

As she stood, a familiar sensation tickles her nose, stopping and waiting for the inevitable, she sneezed three times in rapid succession.

"Hmmmmmm. . . I'm going to have unexpected company," she giggled to herself. As the village Learthè Shyri always knew when an unexpected guest was to arrive. Knowing when someone "unexpected", made it obsolete; so it wasn't quite "unexpected'' now was it? Walking to the hearth she stirred the fire back to life and put another pot of tea to boil.

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Suilai made her way across the spacious yard, contemplating what to do with her strenuously won prize. Drawing the prize from her pouch she examined them thoroughly. It was a set of five knives. Scrutinizing the knives, she realized they were forged in only the finest of metals and superb quality. She studied each individually and wondered how a low life like Kaija Renm had come into their possession.

Probably stolen, she thought, it wouldn't surprise me if they were.

The knives were exactly the same in size and shape. Setting one across her finger where the hilt met the blade, she discovered that they were perfectly balanced. It was very rare to find any throwing knife that was perfectly balanced let alone a set of five.

The blades were about as long as her hand, light enough not to be a burden yet heavy enough to be thrown at great distances. Every knife was exactly the same in all ways, except one. Etched from hilt to tip was an exotic flowing design full of curves and curly cues, flowers and vines.

Running down the center of the blade was the flowing script of a language foreign to her. Each of these knives had the same script, but on each knife, the markings varied. She wondered what they said and decided she would soon have to pay a visit to the library and search through the enormous volumes of lore and languages. Making her way toward her home, she silently thanked the late King Vila for decreeing,  every village possesses a library. He had been embarrassed one too many times by the ignorance of his people. Mayhap she would find a clue, though she cringed at the work.

Treading lightly through the herb garden, which she so painstakingly tended every day, she paused for contemplation. She gazed at the enormous expanse of her garden studying the plants and silently naming each one and their uses; a habit she had developed since she was a child; Mint for relaxation, and cleanliness and an aphrodisiac for the Feelinas, Cat ears for healing and used mostly for healing balms.

With a blink and a shake of her head she made her way to the door. Finding it ajar, she stepped across the ancient threshold kissing her fingers and tapping them against the door jamb as she did so.

"Papu," she called, "Papu, it's Suilai, I've brought the Maheme that you requested and a very beautiful late autumn trout. Papu, where are you? You're too old to play come- and-find –me."

Walking through the small house, Suilai noticed all was silent. How odd, she thought. There was always noise. There was always something going on, the whistle of the teapot, papu practicing on the old wooden dummy and even the thunk, thunk of him chopping wood. But there was nothing. Spiders crawled up her spine. An ominous feeling reverberated off the walls and Suilai shivered.

She made her way through the kitchen but nothing was amiss. The cup of tea that she drank early that morning was still on the table, forgotten by all. Papu's muddy boots were by the threshold just like they always were, even the morning dishes were still waiting to be washed. Something was out of place, something was wrong. Making her way to the main room, her foot caught on something, something soft, yet it gave just slightly.

Suddenly, the floor was moving towards her at an alarming rate. Bringing her hands out in front of her, tucking her head and knees to her chest, she hit the floor with a thud and rolled on her left shoulder. Using the momentum the plunge had given her; she sprang to her feet with an agile quickness gained only by years of practice, hand instantly grabbing a dart. It never hurts to be prepared, hesitation can kill or at least that's what papu drilled into her head and body long ago. Ire rising, she peered about with devoted attentiveness at what tripped her.

"Burning pits of Ellh, I'm tired of you old man and your tedious training exercises. We've been through this a million times and you have it lodged in my head so deeply that any more will most likely make it burst through the other side."

Suilai looked down; her breath caught in her throat. Misplaced anger was replaced with amplifying distress.

"Papu!" she cried, throwing herself to the floor. Rumpled, like a discarded rag doll and breaths coming in ragged gasps, her papu lay upon the floor. His once tan skin had turned to a gray pallor. Placing a hand on his brow; she withdrew it quickly, so hot it burned.

"Papu, wake up." Lightly rapping his face to wake him, the only response was the light fluttering of eyelids. Seeking desperately for aid, she ran to the one person she knew would help her.