Beyond the Void

Chapter 56, Knowledge furthest dream

CYNRIC

Three moons and three tens since the Mark of the Other One blossomed.

Cynric was standing on a lone patch of land surrounded by waterfalls. This could not have been real. Yet he could feel the cold water mist on his skin. He could feel his heart pumping and his ragged breathing.

Looking up, he could not see the tops of the waterfalls. Only an endless shower of cold water. His mind was already reeling from the experience. This was all power. How could a single human contain such a flow?

The stories of the first human mages who were able to move mountains did not seem so laughable now. It was frightening. Cynric wanted to curl up into a ball and hide from all of this.

A sudden female voice forced him to turn around. The northman was standing right there, along with someone else. A woman! A woman clad in the silver, black and red ceremonial armour of the old empire.

"It has been a while since I have had to speak eldertongue." She said stiffly.

Cynric was too awestruck to say anything.

"And not a soul cares who I am. Who I was." The woman snickered.

"Who. I am sorry, who are you?" He stammered.

"Merely one among the last Six Guardian Deities of the North. At least you can provide something in the way of conversation. I am afraid he doesn't talk much."

"How are you here?" Cynric felt his mouth fall open. None of this made sense. Although he had enough sense left in him to realise that.

Another part of him was in awe with the looks of the woman. She had even paler skin than the northman. Even at this distance he could see the scars on her neck and around her mouth. Her brown hair had been cut short except for a two long braids that reached her shoulders. And her fierce blue eyes were staring a hole into him.

"I believe he bound my soul to my trusty blade. He took it with him. As bad as that sounds I am grateful. The void did not get the chance to devour me. If such a feat is possible, then there might still be a chance to regain my life. After all, I am not dead."

"Bound your soul." Cynric mumbled.

"I think he wants to apologise for what is ahead. He needs to learn your language." The woman explained.

"Why can't you teach him?" He pleaded.

"I am not alive." Her reply was curt.

"But you said you weren't dead." Cynric stammered, confused.

"You remembered!" The woman looked pleased suddenly. "At least half of it. Usually men tend to forget even the simplest of things. But that there is the problem. I am not dead. Nor am I alive. My mind is not structured. At its core, language is a structure. Instincts can draw on concepts from a structure, but the opposite is not possible. And if he lacks the structured knowledge behind the language, he gains nothing. The basics of the flow. I cannot help here." The woman nodded at the northman and stepped aside.

The water all around Cynric's tiny island immediately churned and grew restless. Pillars of water rose like tentacles from the depths.

Cynric was shaking, his breathing restless. Whatever was about to happen, an inevitability. An unpleasant one, most likely. He had severe regrets taking the northman's hand.

"Try not to kill me. I like my life. As boring as it is, I prefer to live." He looked straight into the eyes of the northman, hoping he would understand.