Wisdom and Wonder - Chapter 30
“Stop!” Erin dashed over to the sailor and knocked the apple out of his hand. “Don’t you remember what happened to Nechtan Mac Collbran?” “Who?” the sailor sputtered in disbelief.
And there he received them, saying in a loud voice that all the folk could hear, "Welcome, Oisín, son of Finn. Thou art come to the Land of Youth, where sorrow and weariness and death shall never touch thee.”
-Oisín in the Land of Youth
Kunuunnguaq sat tersely on the deck of his ship, gazing out at the island in the distance. There were some who said Tutuatuin Island was Adlivun, where the souls of the dead went to be purified before their eternal rest, but Kunuunnguaq had never believed that. He knew that the inhabitants of that island were not gods. Nor were they evil spirits. The Tutuatuin were merely beings from elsewhere, with strange and powerful magic. The first Saqqaq to arrive on Tutuatuin Island had been awestruck when first gazing upon the place. Green hills and red fruits shining brightly beneath a sun that was never cloudy. Who wouldn’t have thought that land to be a paradise?
But there was a danger on that island, a price to pay for the eternal youth and beauty it gave. It made sense to Kunuunnguaq. Nothing in life was free, especially not life itself. But those first Saqqaq explorers had not listened to the Tutuatuin’s pleas and warnings, and they had paid the price demanded. Only later, as newer expeditions and warier explorers had taken the Tutuatuin’s advice to heart, had the other Saqqaq lands recognized the island for what it was.
The Tutuatuin were not evil spirits. But they were not gods either. The Saqqaq paid them no tribute and gave them no worship, but they understood the danger of Tutuatuin Island, especially after the sealing of the great evil in that place. And so men like Kunuunnguaq had guarded the island from pirates and plunderers for untold centuries, while the Tutuatuin guarded the great evil.
The first Saqqaq to meet the Tutuatuin had been awestruck, but Kunuunnguaq only pitied them. After all, they had to pay the same price for their immortality as anyone else, and Kunuunnguaq did not think anything was worth that price.
One of Kunuunnguaq’s men came up to him on the deck, with news from the outer patrol boats. A ship was approaching, asking to be let through. This happened often; people constantly trying to raid the island or smuggle its secrets to the outside world. And always Kunuunnguaq and his flotilla denied them entry. But this time something was different. This time they carried one of the spheres of that island, the messengers who had been sent out to aid in the great evil’s sealing. Kunuunnguaq was suspicious. After all, if he wanted to sneak past the blockade, what better trick would put the sentries off their guard? But his man assured him that the message was true, and that the ship carrying the outsiders would be arriving later that day.
“Very well then,” Kunuunnguaq sighed and stood up. “Let us prepare to meet them.”
Morien felt tense and restive throughout the voyage, even as the sailing went smoothly. The sentries they encountered were stone-faced and dour, and with every meeting, Morien couldn’t help but feel on edge, even as Hobie’s presence assuaged the sentries’ fears. According to Tituba, the sailors here had to be cautious and cold, the island they guarded being too precious to allow a crack in their blockade formation. But it still worried Morien, even after finally meeting the leader of the sentries and clearing the last checkpoint.
All thoughts of unease left Morien though when he finally saw Thule in all its glory. A shimmering pearl in the brilliant, bright azure of the océan, its buildings of purest white pierced high into the clouds, while the verdurous green and crystal clear waters of its natural mass glistened just as brightly. The weather was perfect, with clear skies and breezy, océan winds consoling the sun’s unabated warmth. And there, at the docks, waiting patiently as the two boats weighed anchor, was the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen.
Her hair was a glimmering gold, with its brilliance matched only by her shining, golden eyes. Her skin was an unearthly marble, which almost seemed to glow in the sunlit sky. And her dress seemed to be cut from the océan itself, with a vividness in color and a train that mixed with the ends of her hair.
“Welcome to Thule,” she bowed as the sailors met her on the docks. “I am Saoirse.”
“Pleasure to meet you, miss,” Tituba bowed. “I am Captain Tituba, of the Esteban.”
“And I am Captain Cazador, of the Argo,” Cazador took off his cap. “Good day to you.”
“And, um,” Morien gulped as his friends shoved him to the front with Hobie in hand. “I’m Morien. H-hello.”
“Hello Saoirse,” Hobie glowed brilliantly, as he hovered hobblingly towards the woman. “It is good to see you again.”
“Careful now,” Saoirse quickly caught Hobie before he sank too far. “Oh dear, you’re in terrible shape.”
“It’s alright,” Hobie glimmered. “I’m sorry to have left you alone here so long.”
“Alone?” Saoirse laughed. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the others?”
“I… pardon?”
“It’s alright,” Saoirse examined Hobie carefully. “The Angelic Spheres’ memories are fragile as it is. With the shape you’re in, I can’t fault you for forgetting. Just rest now.”
“Very well. Thank you,” Hobie began to dim, until at last he was fully asleep in Saoirse’s arms.
“May I see the Keys?” she asked Morien.
“Um, y-yeah, sure,” Morien pulled them out of his pockets and showed them to Saoirse.
“Wonderful!” Saoirse sang, and chills went through everyone’s spines at the sheer beauty of her voice. “Please! Follow me. There are rooms and food prepared for you.”
As the questers and sailors all followed Saoirse down the path, they were amazed by the splendor of the fruit and vegetables that grew in the gardens. So entranced was one sailor, he quickly snatched an apple from an orchard and prepared to sink his watering mouth into it.
“Stop!” Erin dashed over to the sailor and knocked the apple out of his hand. “Don’t you remember what happened to Nechtan Mac Collbran?”
“Who?” the sailor sputtered in disbelief.
“She is right to warn you,” Saoirse’s voice called out and drew the attention of everyone. “My apologies for not explaining sooner. You may drink the water from the river and eat the fish that swim within, but do not eat or drink anything that comes from the island itself.”
“But why not?” the sailor grumbled.
“If you do, you won’t be able to go back!” Erin cried.
“Yes,” Saoirse said. “All that comes from this island cannot leave it, save the Angelic Spheres. Had you eaten the apple, upon your return to land, you would have crumbled into dust. As I said, there is already food prepared for you. So please, follow me.”
“Er, a-alright,” the sailor gazed fearfully at the discarded apple on the ground, before he joined the rest of the party in its now-warier trek across the island.
The man glanced over the banquet table, just to be sure everything was in order. The sentries had brought quite a haul this time around. The man had to admit he was jealous. All the times they’d brought food for him, and reluctantly at that, it had been simple rations. He’d gotten more flavorful food from fishing in the river. Still, perhaps these newcomers could smuggle him off this island. He’d been hoping to leave for years, but with the constant patrols he’d always known it to be impossible. They’d thought him to be a thief, when he’d first washed up on shore, and even after Saoirse had vouched for him and kept him safe, the Saqqaq still regarded him with suspicion.
At the sound of voices the man trotted over to the doorway. Sure enough, he could see a whole trail of travelers making their way towards him. Great Yehovah, he whistled. He’d expected a lone hero, a single knight in shining armor, not a whole army. Still, the sentries had said there would be two boats arriving, and the food certainly couldn’t have been eaten by only one person. He just hoped that what the sentries had brought would be enough.
Let’s see, the man peered into the distance. The trail of people was just close enough now that he could make out the faces of those at the front. So who was the valiant hero bringing back the Keys?
Suddenly the man’s heart skipped a beat, as he saw a familiar face among the crowd.
“No,” he whispered. It couldn’t be.
With a shout, the man dashed out of the building, and ran with all his might to meet the group.
“The sentries arrived this morning to bring food for you all,” Saoirse said. “We’re almost there now.”
“I can’t believe it,” Morien whispered. “We’re really here.”
“I know,” Julia clasped his hand tightly as she smiled. “We finally-”
“MIJA!”
Julia’s blood ran cold, as she heard a voice she’d never expected to hear again, calling her name and growing louder. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be! But there, she saw, it was, as she continued to stare dumbfoundedly at the figure running down the hill towards her.
“Mija!” Raul Ventura wept tears of joy as he saw his little sister, all grown up and on that island.
“Raul…” Julia whimpered, and Morien had to steady her, before a fire lit up in her eyes and she ran towards him.
“Raul!” she cried as she leapt into her brother’s arms. Was it true? Was he real? Was all this actually happening?
“Oh Mija!” Raul held her tightly. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to come back to you! To mama and papa and all of you! Oh Mija! It’s been too long!”
“I thought you were dead!” Julia sobbed. “We thought you had died. Oh Raul!”
“I know, I know,” Raul said. “But I’m alive, Mija. I’m alive and I’m ready to come home. I-”
Then he noticed the captain, standing stock-still, his face betraying no emotion.
“Captain Cazador!” Raul saluted.
“At ease, Commander,” Cazador said hoarsely.
“Sir, I… I’m sorry,” Raul flinched under Cazador’s gaze.
“For what?” Julia asked. “You haven’t got anything to be sorry about.”
“Ellis, sir,” Raul said. “We were both captured by the Andalusi and put on a slave ship. We fell prey to a storm in the océan and wound up here. But… he died, sir. Last year, before we could leave. I’m sorry.”
“…I see,” Cazador said. “And… Tobías… my son. What of him?”
“He…” Raul could not bear to meet the captain’s gaze. “He died on that day. At the battle. I tried to save him, but I…”
All were silent, as the captain remained stone-faced and stiff-legged.
“I’m sorry,” Raul said at last.
“He knew the risk upon entering the navy. He did his duty,” Cazador said, and continued his march up the hill.
“Captain, I-! I…” Raul tried to say something as Cazador passed him, but could find no proper words. What could he have possibly said?
“The… the banquet is this way,” Saoirse said quietly, and continued to lead the now-silent crowd up the hill.
Morien glanced about the banquet hall. All around him people were chatting and eating, and on opposite ends sat Cazador and Raul. Julia was with her brother, talking excitedly as she fought back tears, and he was matching her conversation, albeit with awkward, guilty glances at the captain. The captain himself merely sat in silence, occasionally sipping at his drink and gazing at nothing in particular. Only Usuff dared attempt conversation with Cazador, which the captain met with noncommittal grunts.
Finally, after Saoirse came over to the captain and said something to him, Cazador and Usuff both stood up and followed her out of the building. Morien did not know why, he had no obligation or reason to do so, but as stealthily and silently as he could, he excused himself from the table and made his way to tail the trio.
“Raul…” Julia asked at last. “What did the captain mean when he said his son?”
“Oh Mija,” Raul sighed. “I was a fool. I was a terrible, terrible fool, and I killed his son, just as surely as if I’d held the sword myself.”
“C-come on, Raul,” Julia said. “I’m sure you’re exaggerating.”
“No, blast it all!” Raul cried. “We both could have made it back to safe harbor. I didn’t need to sacrifice myself. But I was stupid. I wanted to be some great hero, so I blocked the Andalusi with my own ship, and in the end I was the only one to survive! None of my men shared my delusions, but they followed their commander to the bitter end, and they all paid the price for my foolishness. And his son. Cazador’s son is dead because of me. Do you realize the hatred, the pain, the bitterness he must be feeling now? Knowing I lived while his son died? Can you even comprehend it?”
Julia looked away from her brother, overcome with guilt and sorrow.
“Yes…” she said. “I think I can.”
“It isn’t much, I know,” Saoirse motioned towards the grave. “Materials are scarce on this island. But it was the best we could do.”
“How did he die?” Cazador knelt down to place a stone on the tomb.
“In his sleep. There was no pain.”
“Ironic,” Cazador chuckled. “He’d have liked that.”
“He always was a tough, old thing,” Usuff knelt down to follow the captain’s example.
“I know,” Cazador replied. “He should have stayed captain. Not me.”
“Come on, Captain. You know why he chose you.”
“I do. But… Ventura was in good hands. I can see why he survived.”
“Captain…”
“And now Julia is reunited with him, once again. I suppose the heavens do have a sense of justice after all.”
“Captain… it’s alright. You can let it all out now.”
At first Cazador did not respond. It was almost as though he had not heard Usuff. Then, with a gasp, tears began to well within the captain’s eyes, and he uttered a bestial howl as he fell down and wept.
“It’s alright, captain,” Usuff wrapped his arms around Cazador. “It’s alright. I’m here.”
“For so long I hoped. I prayed! I begged Ar-Rahman for him to be alive! All these years, all this time! I’ve clung on to that hope! The hope that Tobías was still out there, somewhere, just waiting for me to come and take him home! It’s all I’ve had, all this time! Oh Ar-Rahman, why? Why couldn’t he still be alive?”
“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” Usuff whispered. “It’s alright, captain.”
From behind the grave where he hid, Morien began to feel a deep pit within his stomach. What had he hoped to accomplish, coming there? All he’d done was invade the captain’s privacy. It was better for him to just leave.
As he silently made his way back though, being careful not to be seen, a thought suddenly struck Morien.
Had the captain said Ar-Rahman?
“So how is everyone back home?” Raul asked excitedly. “It’s been years since I last saw them.”
“That…” Julia wondered how she could tell her brother everything. “A lot has happened… since the day you disappeared. I…”
Then she saw Morien re-enter the room, and she rushed over to him, catching the young man by surprise.
“Morien, come here,” she beamed. “I want you to meet my brother.”
“Now? Um! Uh!” Morien was unsure of what he should say. But as usual, Julia took the lead, and she dragged him over to Raul with a contented smile on her face.
“Raul, this is Morien,” she said. “Morien, my brother.”
“Um! Uh! P-pleasure to meet you!” Morien extended his hand stiffly outwards.
“Er… hello,” Raul took his hand. “Wait… are you the Chosen One?”
“Er! Well! I mean!” Morien stammered and blushed. “I don’t know about that but I found all the Keys so I guess so but I mean Hobie said they could be anyone so who knows I don’t I-”
“Are you…?” Raul glanced between Morien and Julia.
“Yes,” Julia nodded.
“Well,” Raul began to frown, and for a moment Morien wondered if he approved or not. But then his lips curled into a smile, albeit a sad one, and he patted Morien on the shoulder. “I hope you’ve taken good care of my sister. She means a lot to me.”
“He has,” Julia smiled.
“Aw, c-c’mon, Julia,” Morien sputtered. “You’ve done way more for me than I’ve done for you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Julia nestled up close to him. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”
At the other end of the room, as Usuff helped Cazador enter, with Saoirse beside them, the guardian of the island chanced a glance at Raul, happily chatting away with his sister. Her gaze lingered for only a moment, but it was long enough to be noticed by Erin and Yann, who exchanged their own knowing glances.
“Men,” Cazador announced. “Those of you who wish to pay your respects to Ellis may come with me.”
At this every sailor from the Argo stood in attention. Cazador was a father to his men, but Ellis had been a grandfather to them all.
“Good,” Cazador smiled at that. “In that case, let’s go.”
“Ah, that reminds me,” Tituba hurried over to Saoirse. “May we ask, where is Guin’s grave?”
“We saw it by Ellis’,” Usuff answered. “We can show it to you.”
“Alright then,” Tituba ordered her crew to follow, to which they happily complied, and soon the only ones left in the banquet hall were the original quintet, Saoirse, and Raul.
“I’ll… uh… I need to make preparations. For the resealing,” Saoirse said to Raul. “I’ll be in the cathedral.”
“Oh, do you need any help?” Raul asked.
“No, no!” Saoirse blushed nervously. “It’s alright. I can manage.”
“A-alright then…” Raul replied. “Well, if you need anything, just holler.”
“Of course,” Saoirse bowed before scooping up Hobie and making her way to leave.
“And I guess we’ll tag along!” Erin and Yann each took one of Saoirse’s arms.
“Oh! Er, th-that’s not really necessary,” Saoirse protested.
“Nonsense!” Erin laughed. “Besides, I think they need some time alone.”
Indeed, Yann nodded.
“See you in a bit, guys,” Erin waved goodbye as they all exited, leaving Morien, Julia, and Raul to themselves.
“So…” Julia turned back to Raul. “I… I guess there’s a lot I need to tell you. About what happened. And I…”
And she faltered, but Morien was there to hold her hand and give her courage, as she began to tell her story.
Yann examined the many parts of the cathedral interior. In the nave, where he walked, ancient runes and alien geometries abounded, as did impressive murals and tapestries, depicting heavenly scenes of brilliant glory. And lower down, along the walls, various slots, one of which Hobie had been placed in, marked the nave’s hall all the way to the crossing tower, where Erin and Saoirse now stood. Evidently the slots recharged the Angelic Spheres’ energy, as Yann could see a heavenly light glowing from beneath Hobie, even as the orb remained dim and dreaming. As Yann walked over to the girls, he could see them standing around a panel of some sort, with dials and diagrams only Saoirse could make sense of. The tower held two spiral staircases, each starting on opposite ends and making their way to the topmost region of the building, where a floor with a hollowed-out center lay. The hole in the floor was evidently for the sake of Tar-Cruorem’s imprisoning crystal, a massive, dark rock, with jagged edges and an evil, ebon light crackling from inside. Peering through what lay unobstructed in the hole though, Yann could see three panels, of similar yet smaller design to the one which Saoirse attended, arranged equidistant around the crystal, No doubt these were meant for the Keys.
“You love him, don’t you?”
“Eh?” Saoirse turned to glance at Erin, who stood sagely by her side.
“Raul,” Erin said. “You love him, don’t you?”
“How… what makes you say that?”
“I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?” Erin smiled sadly. “I saw the way you look at him. It’s a look I’m only too familiar with. You love him, but you’re scared to tell him. But why? It’s obvious he cares about you.”
“I…” Saoirse turned away. “I know. But… ever since he came here, his goal has always been to return to his family. I was able to convince the sentries to bring him and Ellis food from outside, but even I couldn’t persuade them to let Raul leave. And I could never ask him to stay when he wants to leave so badly, especially not now. He’s finally found his sister again. I can’t… it would be too selfish of me to ask him to give that up.”
“What if you left with him, then?”
“Oh, if only it were so simple!” Saoirse howled. “But we Thuleans, we are bound to this island, body and… whatever we have in place of a soul. Whatever it is, it cannot enter the afterlife like a regular mortal’s. Instead, we simply… wither. All of us who tried to leave crumbled into dust upon our departure. That’s the fate that awaits me should I try to leave with him. And that’s the fate that awaits him should he stay with me, and eat the food on this island. He’ll live a long life, longer than any other mortal, but his soul and mine will stay tied to this place, and he will never know Heaven. I can’t ask him to make that sacrifice. Not for anything in the world.”
“I… I see,” Erin said.
It’s alright, Yann patted Saoirse on the back. The Thuleans may not have gone to Heaven, but he knew where they did go.
“You…” Saoirse furrowed her brow as she noticed Yann’s golden hair and eyes. “Where are you from?”
Ah, Yann sighed. Why did everyone always ask him the wrong question?
“After the shipwreck, Ellis and I drifted,” Raul explained. “We collected rainwater and caught fish, but it only barely kept the reaper at bay. I wanted to give up, so many times on that boat. But that old coot wouldn’t let me. Every time I felt like giving up he’d yell and rave and curse at my cowardice, and after that I realized how foolish I seemed. Eventually we made it here, but as soon as we landed, we were set upon by the sentries. They almost killed us, before Saoirse intervened. She made them spare us, even convinced them to feed us, on the promise that we helped her on the island. She’s the last of her kind, you know. We’ve been the first real company she’s had in so long. She’s… really been lonely, these past few centuries.
“Mija,” Raul clasped his sister’s hand tightly. “I couldn’t be there for you, back when you needed me most. I’m sorry. But I’m here for you now. I will always be here for you from now on. I promise.”
“Thank you,” Julia said. “Thank you, Raul.”
From where he stood, away from the pair of siblings, Morien could see out the window the crowds that had gathered at both graves. The banquet may have been over, but the wake had only just begun.
“He really must have meant a lot to them,” Morien muttered.
“Of course!” Raul walked over to where he stood. “Haven’t you ever heard the stories of the Dread Pirate Cazador?”
“That’s right…” Julia said. “You said he was the same as the captain. But I thought the Dread Pirate Cazador was just a story.”
“Oh no,” Raul shook his head. “He’s very much real, and he’s out there now, paying respects to the man who taught him everything.”
“I’m not familiar with that story,” Morien said.
“Well,” Raul began. “Cazador was born Cristo Moreno, the illegitimate son of Maximiliano Moreno, a very well-to-do, wealthy nobleman.”
“The Morenos?” Julia shuddered. “They were notorious usurers, weren’t they?”
“They had to make their money and title somehow,” Raul shrugged. “They certainly didn’t inherit them. And Cristo may have been illegitimate, but he was far more well-liked among the noble court than any of his other family, though no one dared say so out loud. So one day, jealous at his bastard brother’s popularity, Cristo’s older brother had him secreted off to slavery aboard an Andalusi galley.”
“Then what happened?” Morien asked.
“That was where the captain first met me!” Usuff explained to the enraptured crew of the Esteban. “I was born Usuff Ben Mokhtar, son of the Basha of Argire. My father had also run afoul of a treacherous brother, and as a result his whole family was sold into slavery, with me serving aboard that galley. Ah, but we were lucky. For also on that boat was none other than a crafty old sailor named Ellis!”
At his name every pirate of the Argo erupted into cheers, and Usuff grinned as he continued.
“He led the rebellion against our Andalusi masters, and when the galley was overtaken, we became pirates, with no ties to any land or crown, and Ellis as our captain. But Ellis was old, even then, and though we could see no other man becoming our captain, his health was growing dimmer.
“So he chose Cazador!” Usuff motioned towards the captain, and the whole crew cheered again. “For who else had been braver in battling our foes, who else had been wilier in evading our enemies, who else could have possibly taken the place of our dear and beloved Ellis?”
“You overestimate me, Usuff,” Cazador grunted. “I was merely-”
“Merely the one to lead the Argo and warn the Antilian fleet of the Andalusi invasion!” Usuff proclaimed. “For you see, not only was his elder brother a coward, but a traitor as well. He had plans to help the Andalusi invade the Antilian capital, and he would have succeeded too, had we not stumbled upon an Antilian vessel and discovered the message it was carrying.
“Usuff-” the captain protested.
“Ah, we held no love for either nation, but a massacre of such degree we simply could not abide. And so we set sail, to warn the Antilian crown, and halt the invasion! We faced many trials, fought many foes, but in the end we were triumphant, and the crown awarded us an honorary place in its navy!”
“Usuff!” Again, more forcefully.
“From there, our adventures only continued,” Usuff carried on. “And at every port we stopped, whenever they heard the captain’s name, for a moment they would pause, and wonder aloud ‘Cazador? Surely not… the Dread Pirate Cazador?’, to which the captain would always reply ‘I assure you, good sir, I know not this Dread Pirate of whom you speak. I am but a humble-’”
“USUFF!” the captain had stood up now, his fists shaking and voice cracking with unrestrained anger. “I am not a hero! I never wanted to be a hero! I never wanted anyone to write stories about me or sing songs of my deeds or remember me in any way! You want to know what I am? I’ll tell you! I’m nothing but the bastard son of a Soudanian slave! And that’s the noblest thing that can be said about me.
“You think Ellis was the only one?” Cazador motioned to the tomb, as the sailors all stared silently at him. “You think he’s the only one of my crew to die? He’s just the latest… of a long string of corpses in my wake! Ellis! Tobías! Countless others, all dead in my name! I’m no royal captain! I’m not even a dread pirate! I’m nothing but death, the grim reaper given form. Everything I touch dies eventually. Everyone I love has to leave me someday. You’ll be gone too, Usuff, one day. You’ll die, and there won’t be a single, blessed thing I can do about it!”
“Captain…” Usuff stared at his friend in pain.
“Continue your revelry, men,” the captain made his exit. “I need to be alone.”
And as Cazador’s form grew smaller in the distance, the crews of the Argo and Esteban could only stare in stunned silence.
“How… did you find me?” the captain asked, though he never lifted his gaze from where he sat.
“I saw you from the hill. You came in around the same time the others went out,” Morien glanced around the top floor of the cathedral tower. From up there he could see the sun setting into the océan, the orange light casting its color over everything in sight. Even the floating crystal in the center had an orangish tinge now.
“And did it occur to you,” Cazador looked up at the young man. “That I might want to be alone here?”
“I… it did,” Morien said. “But it also occurred to me that you might want someone to listen.”
The captain did not speak at first, but after what seemed like an eternity of silence, he finally motioned for Morien to sit.
“I had… such hopes… for his future,” Cazador whispered hoarsely. “I wanted him to serve on a proper ship, be a proper navy man. I saw him becoming an admiral someday. I even had Ellis join him, just to… be safe. Safe. Hah…”
All this Morien listened to without saying a word. He knew that to speak would violate the trust Cazador had placed in him then.
“You…” Cazador turned his gaze straight at Morien. “You said you were Mandenka?”
“Huh? Uh, y-yes?”
“Then where…” Cazador pointed a limp finger at the charm that hung round Morien’s neck. “Where did you get that saphie?”
Morien glanced down in surprise at the saphie his father had written, long before he had even been born, and a miasma of confusion began to cloud his mind. Why was Cazador so interested in his saphie? Did he know it from somewhere? How could he possibly have, unless…
Before he could answer, a crackle of dark energy began to sound from the crystal, and as Morien and Cazador looked up in horror, they saw cracks beginning to take form, and pitch-black energy beginning to seep out.
“Tar-Cruorem,” Cazador whispered.
“The Keys!” Morien cried, and rushed over to the closest of the three panels. Without either Hobie or Saoirse to guide him, Morien could not tell if he failed in some specific rite. But as he placed the Key of Earth onto the panel and a red beam of light shot out at the crystal, he figured he must have done something right, as he could hear something dark and otherworldly screaming in pain.
“Here!” Morien tossed Cazador the Key of Sea. “Go to the panel over there and place it there! I’ll get the other one!”
And with a quick burst of speed, Morien dashed as fast as he could to where the next panel stood. A brilliant bolt of blackness struck the ground before him, and it was only at the last second that he stopped in time to avoid it. Evidently Tar-Cruorem was not eager to be resealed.
Dodging lightning bolts as best he could, Morien finally made it to the panel, and with a triumphant whoop placed the Key of Sky in its proper position. As the green beam of light shot up at the crystal, Morien heard the scream grow louder, and knew the Black-Blooded Baron was growing more desperate.
“Look out!” Morien cried, as he saw one last lightning bolt making its way towards Cazador. But the old sea captain was not as young or as spry as Morien, and though he did his best to dodge, he was still struck by the lightning, and with a cry he fell to the ground.
“No!” Morien ran as fast as he could towards the captain. He couldn’t be dead. He simply couldn’t!
“HELP… ME…” a voice, eldritch and encompassing, gasped out from the crystal, and Morien saw fingers take shape from the black shadow near the cracks.
“Not a chance!” Morien continued to dodge lightning as he rushed towards Cazador. “It’s over for you, Tar-Cruorem!”
“MY NAME…”
“Captain!” Morien knelt beside the captain, and saw that he was alive, though badly wounded. “It’s okay. Just hang on a little longer.”
“MY NAME… NOT… TAR-CRUOREM…”
“What?” Morien’s heart skipped a beat, and he turned around to stare horror-struck at the crystal.
“MY NAME…” the energy crackled and shifted, and now a pair of eyes could be seen in the dark mass’ center.
“LON.”