Book Two: The Spear of Calling - Chapter Two: The Spirit's Path
The road left the Frostraider headquarters at dawn.
Caradawc walked beside Phephe.
Neither spoke for the first hour.
There was something strange about leaving together.
They were both Barbarians.
Both Shamans.
Both new to the Frostraiders.
And both had been given the same instruction.
Seek the spirits.
Neither had been told exactly what that meant.
Break had simply watched them from the doorway as they prepared to leave.
Caradawc had asked the obvious question.
"Why are we going together?"
Break had looked from one Shaman to the other.
"Because neither of you has learned how to walk this path alone."
That had been all.
Now they walked beneath a pale morning sky.
Phephe eventually broke the silence.
"You realise he didn't actually tell us where we're going."
"The Ocean of Tears."
"That's where we're going."
"Yes."
"That's not the same as knowing what we're supposed to do when we get there."
Caradawc smiled.
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm a Shaman. I'm used to being told things that don't make sense."
Caradawc laughed.
For a while they continued in comfortable silence.
The countryside seemed familiar enough.
Fields.
Hills.
Distant trees.
Yet every now and then something felt wrong.
A bend in the road appeared where Caradawc did not remember one existing.
A lone tree stood in a place he could have sworn had once been empty.
Once he glanced over his shoulder and thought he saw another traveller following them.
An old man wrapped in grey robes.
When he looked again the road behind them was empty.
Phephe had noticed him looking.
"What?"
"Nothing."
She studied him.
"You saw something."
"I thought I saw someone."
"Did you?"
Caradawc looked back again.
The road was empty.
"I don't know."
Phephe nodded.
"Good."
"Good?"
"It means I'm not the only one."
Caradawc looked at her.
She smiled.
"Don't worry. I haven't told Break."
By midday neither of them was entirely certain they were still walking through the same countryside.
Sometimes Phephe would stop and stare at something Caradawc could not see.
Sometimes Caradawc would turn towards a sound that Phephe insisted she had not heard.
They began comparing what they saw.
Not because either expected to find an answer.
Simply because it was reassuring to know that the other was experiencing something strange too.
By evening they made camp.
The fire burned between them.
The stars emerged overhead.
For a while they spoke about the Frostraiders.
About Pebbles.
About Break.
About the other Barbarians.
About how strange it was to find themselves among such a collection of races and personalities.
Then Phephe became quiet.
"What do you think the spirits want?"
Caradawc stared into the fire.
"I don't know."
"Neither do I."
"Break knows."
Phephe laughed softly.
"Break always knows."
Caradawc smiled.
"Perhaps that's why he doesn't tell us."
"Perhaps."
They settled down to sleep.
Caradawc closed his eyes.
Sleep came quickly.
Dreams came quicker.
He stood upon a shore he did not recognise.
Waves crashed endlessly against black stone.
Phephe stood beside him.
Or perhaps she did.
Caradawc reached for her.
His hand passed through mist.
She was gone.
A figure stood at the water's edge.
Not a person.
Not entirely.
A shape formed from mist and moonlight.
It raised one hand.
Pointing.
Caradawc followed the gesture.
Far out at sea an island waited.
Then the figure turned towards him.
For one moment Caradawc thought he heard a voice.
Not words.
A calling.
Then he awoke.
The fire had burned low.
Phephe was sitting opposite him.
She was already awake.
"Did you dream?"
Caradawc looked at her.
"Yes."
She nodded.
"So did I."
The island existed.
When the captain pointed toward it several days later, Caradawc felt a chill run through him.
He had seen it before.
In the dream.
The same rocky shoreline.
The same weathered cliffs.
The same lonely silhouette against the sea.
Phephe stood beside him at the rail.
"You know this place."
Caradawc nodded.
"I've never been here."
"Neither have I."
"Then how do you know it?"
She looked towards the island.
"I don't."
Neither spoke again.
They disembarked together.
The narrow trail led upward.
The island was silent.
Too silent.
At the summit they found Captain Surestout.
The battle was brief.
The pirate fought like a desperate man.
Caradawc fought like a Shaman.
Phephe fought beside him.
Their spells worked together naturally.
One strengthened.
One weakened.
One slowed.
One struck.
Within moments the fight was over.
The pirate fell.
Silence followed.
The sea vanished.
Not physically.
Spiritually.
The crashing waves seemed suddenly distant, muted, as though the world had drawn a breath and forgotten to release it.
Caradawc turned towards Phephe.
She was staring at something behind him.
He followed her gaze.
A figure stood there.
Caradawc had not seen it arrive.
The spirit appeared neither male nor female.
Young nor old.
Its form shifted subtly each time he blinked.
For a long moment neither Shaman spoke.
Then understanding settled over Caradawc.
Not knowledge.
Not certainty.
Understanding.
Phephe took a step forward.
The spirit extended a translucent hand.
Within it rested a tiny gem.
Phephe looked at Caradawc.
The spirit was holding it towards him.
"Take it."
Caradawc reached out.
The moment his fingers touched the gem, the world became perfectly clear.
He could smell the salt air.
Hear every wave.
Feel every grain of sand beneath his boots.
Reality sharpened until it almost hurt.
Then the spirit vanished.
And certainty vanished with it.
Caradawc looked at Phephe.
She was still there.
But she seemed somehow distant.
"Can you see it?"
Phephe shook her head.
"The spirit?"
"No."
Caradawc looked at the gem.
She looked at him.
"I can see you."
Something cold passed through him.
The journey had changed.
The gem guided him.
Not north.
Not south.
Not by roads or maps.
By instinct.
He simply knew where to walk.
Phephe walked beside him.
At first.
Sometimes she would ask where he was going.
He could never explain.
He simply knew.
Sometimes they travelled for hours without seeing another soul.
Sometimes they found themselves standing in places neither remembered entering.
Days seemed to pass.
Or perhaps only hours.
Time behaved strangely.
Then the road changed.
Caradawc stopped.
Phephe continued walking.
"Phephe."
She turned.
"What?"
"Where are you going?"
"With you."
Caradawc looked around.
They stood on a road beneath a grey sky.
Yet something was wrong.
The road beneath Phephe's feet was dry.
The road beneath his own feet was covered in shallow water.
He looked back towards her.
She was suddenly standing much farther away.
"Phephe?"
She stared at him.
"Caradawc?"
The distance between them stretched.
Neither moved.
Then the world shifted.
Caradawc blinked.
Phephe was gone.
He was alone.
He called her name.
No answer came.
For the first time, Caradawc understood what Break had meant.
The spirits were not taking them along the same path.
They had merely begun together.
Eventually he stood before a hidden man in Freeport.
Bondl Felligan.
The name arrived before the recognition.
As though someone had whispered it into his thoughts.
Bondl examined the gem.
Nodded.
Then walked away.
Caradawc followed.
The city became a maze.
Alleyways twisted.
Buildings appeared unfamiliar.
The sounds of the marketplace faded.
At one point he could have sworn they were walking through a city that no longer existed.
Ancient walls stood where modern streets should have been.
Long-dead merchants conducted silent business.
Ghostly soldiers marched through vanished gates.
Then everything was normal again.
The hidden chamber beneath the Jade Tiger's Den appeared before him.
And waiting beside it stood a spirit greater than the first.
For an instant the world snapped back into focus.
Stone.
Wood.
Torchlight.
Reality.
"Heyokah," said the spirit.
Caradawc repeated the word.
The Tiny Gem dissolved.
In its place appeared an Opaque Gem.
Clouded.
Uncertain.
Like a memory half-forgotten.
"Walk the path."
The spirit vanished.
And the world became strange once more.
The strangest part began with Ooglyn.
At least Caradawc thought her name was Ooglyn.
The creature beckoned him forward.
He followed.
Mist drifted across the water.
The world grew quieter.
The Opaque Gem pulsed warmly against his chest.
Drawing him onward.
The water rose around his boots.
Then his knees.
Then his waist.
Yet somehow this seemed unimportant.
Only Ooglyn mattered.
Only the path mattered.
The water reached his shoulders.
Then his chin.
Still he followed.
Something felt wrong.
His next breath burned.
The one after that hurt.
For the first time he looked around.
Sunlight filtered through green water.
Fish drifted lazily overhead.
Weeds swayed in unseen currents.
Caradawc froze.
He was standing beneath the sea.
Panic struck him.
His lungs screamed for air.
The surface glimmered impossibly far above.
For one terrible moment he thought he would die.
Then instinct returned.
Not fear.
Training.
The spirits answered.
His chest tightened painfully.
Water flowed through him.
His lungs changed.
One long enduring breath.
The panic faded.
He stood upon the ocean floor breathing as naturally as if he stood in a meadow.
When he looked for Ooglyn she had disappeared.
The drowned spirits came one by one.
Srafen.
Dillon.
Froham.
Abe.
Each arrived with fragments of stories.
Fragments of memory.
Fragments of truth.
Caradawc listened.
Waited.
Learned patience.
Learned silence.
Learned that wisdom rarely arrives whole.
And sometimes he thought he heard Phephe.
A voice somewhere beyond the water.
Calling his name.
He followed it once.
It led nowhere.
Another time he saw a figure in the distance that looked like her.
When he reached it, there was nothing there.
He stopped chasing her.
The spirits were teaching him something.
He could not force the path to become the path he wanted.
He had to walk the one that had been given to him.
When the final spirit departed, another appeared.
Greater than the others.
Older.
Waiting.
Reality became sharp once more.
"Hail," said Caradawc.
The spirit smiled.
"Next path."
The Opaque Gem transformed.
A Small Gem now rested in his hand.
The path continued.
The wandering spirit found him beneath the endless skies of Karana.
By then Caradawc no longer questioned how he had arrived there.
The path simply unfolded before him.
The spirit accepted the Small Gem.
Then examined the strange tokens he had gathered.
Promise.
Envy.
Woe.
The spirit weighed each carefully.
As though measuring something deeper than the objects themselves.
At length it nodded.
Light gathered between its hands.
The tokens vanished.
The Small Gem vanished.
In their place appeared a Sparkling Gem.
Brilliant.
Certain.
Real.
The spirit smiled.
Then disappeared.
For a long time Caradawc stood alone beneath the evening sky.
The gem glimmered softly within his hand.
For the first time since leaving the Frostraider headquarters he felt entirely present in the physical world.
The grass beneath his boots.
The wind upon his face.
The distant cry of birds overhead.
All of it felt wonderfully real.
Yet somewhere beyond sight he sensed the spirits watching.
Waiting.
He wondered where Phephe was.
Whether she had found her own path.
Whether she had seen the same spirits.
Whether she had been afraid.
He smiled.
She would have been.
And somehow that thought comforted him.
They had begun the journey together.
But Break had been right.
Neither of them could walk the same path forever.
Caradawc closed his fingers around the Sparkling Gem.
The spirits were still calling.
And now he was beginning to understand how to listen.
The path was not finished.
It had only begun.
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