Page 257 of Of Empires and Dust
“What have you done to me? What are you?”
“So many questions, young one, and yet you were just about to leave. Such is the world we live in. We all desire so much, but few of us have the patience to seize it.” Rokka opened his arms and gestured towards the empty blackness. “This is the ancestral plane of our people. It is here our souls linger before passing into the eternal cycle. But it is much, much more than that.”
“It is nothing.” Calen looked about at the endless dark.
“Only because you do not yet see. But now is not the time to open your eyes.”
“Then why am I here?” Calen lunged towards Rokka, but the man evaded him with ease, moving quicker than should have been possible.
“Because you do not have the patience in the mortal plane. There are things you must know, things you must understand so the correct path may be walked.”
“What if I don’t want to walk your path?”
Rokka smiled, his youthful face still unsettling Calen. “Does the leaf wish to blow across the valley? Or does it do so because the wind wills it?”
“Why should I trust a word that leaves your mouth? You’re worse than the elves. I should have seen it in the hut. You were always playing these games, weren’t you?”
“Did I ever say otherwise?” He shrugged. “From the beginning, I told you what I was. I told you I could see the paths, and I told you there was one I wished to follow. My only desire was to find the path where our people are not obliterated, where we can walk free once again. I have been nothing but honest withyou. Though, I’ll admit, my honesty is convoluted by necessity. Such is the burden of the Pathfinders. The truth is still the truth if it is given in drops, is it not?”
“Then answer me something, ‘Pathfinder’. Am I a druid?”
“Yes, but you already knew that. Your sister, now… She is something else, something truly unique.”
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this when we first met in the hut?”
“The same reason I have not told you many things. Because that would have sent you on the wrong path. I am not opaque because I enjoy the games. I am so because the seeing of paths is a delicate affair. Every moment is connected, every word, every thought, every emotion, and every preconception. What you know affects what you do. If I tell you something before you’re meant to know it, I change the path you walk. Our people have been on the brink of extinction for over a thousand years. Hunted for a thousand more. Betrayed by those we trusted, fractured by wars of old, wars amongst ourselves. You walk on ice so paper thin you don’t even know it exists. There are so many things you do not understand, so many threads long woven, so many traps long set.”
“Then tell me!” Rage bubbled in Calen’s blood, fuelled by Valerys. He could not see the dragon, but he could feel him, feel his beating heart, his tethered soul. And every moment the druid held them in this place was a moment they could not be by Ella’s side. “Tell me why you brought me here or let me go.”
“Ah, if only things were that simple.”
“I’m growing very tired of this.” Calen rounded on Rokka.
“I’ve been tired for a thousand years and not much better for the thousand before that.”
Calen let Rokka’s words sound again in his mind. “You’ve lived to see two thousand summers?”
“I saw your ancestors step from boats onto the shores of this continent. My feet were among the first to feel the sand.”
“That’s not possible…”
“After everything you’ve seen, my longevity is where you draw the line?” Rokka chuckled. “You are just like your father. Arrogance, ignorance, honour, and strength, all in equal measure. That can be a dangerous combination, Calen. Particularly for one burned by the rage of a dragon.”
“You knew my father?”
Rokka nodded, puckering his lips. “Quite well. Though, I suppose he never truly knew me.” Rokka let out a long sigh, then took a step towards Calen, locking their gazes. “You are a druid, bloodborn from Fenryr. You are a Pathfinder of paths once walked. Watch, listen, learn. Do not waste a second. The past is a precious thing. It tells us why the present is as it is and how the future must be forged.”
“How do I control it? How do I… How do I see what I need to see?”
“You are the leaf, Calen. Not the wind.” Rokka kept his gaze fixed on Calen. “Moments and places of powerful emotion, of extreme loss or joy, they hold sway over one who sees the paths once walked. They call to you, pull you in. The Gifts of the Pathfinders are those of little control. Do not fight the wind. Embrace it, use it to take you where you need to go. If it shows you something, there is a reason.”
“Do you say anything that isn’t a riddle?”
Rokka only smiled at that. “I cannot hold you here forever, so I will speak plainly this once. Fenryr is at your sister’s side. He has an honourable heart but a fool’s mind. Approach him with as much caution as you do me. I ask you nothing more.” Rokka licked his lips and folded one arm across his chest, the other hand stroking his chin. “We would need many sunsets for me to explain the history of our people. And perhaps we willget the chance to walk that path, or perhaps he will show you. It will be quicker if he shows you. This continent is shifting. The entire world will feel it. A hundred factions rise, a hundred causes, a hundred notions of what Epheria should look like when the dust settles. It is a time of opportunity, not just for our kind, but for anyone willing to seize it. Hands will tug at you from all directions, but knives will come from even more. There are things I want from you, things that would give our people the chance they need. But for now, what you need to know is that a time of gods is coming, a time of flesh and bone. Efialtír seeks to cross the veil to this world, and if he does, then all sides lose. I see paths beyond his manifestation. The empire must become dust, and Fane Mortem must be bled dry. All of us are aligned in this one thing. Do you understand me?”
Calen’s head spun, but he found his way to a question. “The riddle you spoke, back at the cabin. What is the Heart of Blood? Is it real, or is it just some web you spun so the Knights of Achyron would think what they sought was in Ilnaen? The knights say that it is what Fane seeks, the missing piece that will allow him to bring Efialtír into the world. Do you know where it is?”
“Perhaps it is real, perhaps it is not, but as I said then, I do not know what the words meant, only that I must speak them.”
