The Aptly Named Book of Lost Wisdom Volume 2

Chapter 5 - The Awakening



Chapter 5 – The Awakening

There is not much I miss from my life before I appeared in this world, but if I had to pick one thing above all others, it would be dreaming. In dreams we can be or do anything. I no longer sleep, so I no longer dream. There is no time of day that I can shed my limitations and become something more.

The Book of Lost Wisdom, Kalutu

Seventeenth of Learning 1142

Veloran…

“Yes, Milady.”

Captain Jericho is on his way here with instructions from the king to attend him at the palace. What they’re about is dangerous business. It is not honorable.

“You wish me to ignore the king’s command, milady?”

I wish you to do the right thing. That said, there are many reasons for you to be in the temple today. That you will be needed here is a certainty.

“I will remain here. Will you tell me what I am needed for?”

No, but if I were you, I would carry the potion on your desk with you everywhere you go.

He looked down, and it was there, a potion where none had been before. Veloran shook his head in amusement. He picked up the small red flask and concealed it in a pocket. After a moment of thought, he removed it, uncorked the bottle and sniffed. It didn’t smell like a healing potion. Nor did it smell particularly unpleasant. In fact, unlike most potions, it barely had any odor at all, but if he had to pick something it smelled like, it would be cinnamon. He wondered what it was.

“Is this for me?”

Sheba did not answer.

So he went about his business, wondering what sort of events he might have to deal with that would justify ignoring the king’s summons.

*

Beep... Beep... Beep… Beep…

Eric was there again. In the other place. He didn’t know what to call it, but he believed it was real. Another world. A world with a sound he could name but was certain he’d only heard in his dreams. For a very long time that was all there was, darkness and beeping. He spent the time thinking about all that had happened. There was nothing else to do. His mind flashed around to different memories, some recent, some much older. His interrupted transition. The first day he was allowed to pick up a training sword. The first time he’d ever rode a horse. Learning how to hunt. Camping with his father. His mother explaining to him the ins and outs of diplomacy and why it was as important as fighting. A princess and her family visiting his father from one of the countries in Karmenon. He had liked her. They had played together while their parents talked. He had been young. He couldn’t recall her name. So strange that he could recall the names of people in this world but not his own. Then again, he had only met her that one time, while he’d spent a lot of time with Suzanna. And as if he had summoned her, he felt her presence.

She had been standing there for a while, he realized. Just standing. Close. He could smell her, that’s how he knew she was there. Now that he was aware of her presence, he could hear her faint breathing, so soft that it would have been easy enough to mistake for imagination. For a long time she stood, silent, unmoving. And finally she spoke, but her voice was little more than a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Danny. This isn’t what I wanted. And though I can’t know for sure, I can’t believe this is what you want either. Your mother believes you’ll return to us one day, but I’m losing hope. And though she’s offered me a lot of money to stay, more than I could make anywhere else, I just can’t do it. I can’t watch you, day after day, week after week. I don’t believe that you’re suffering, but I can’t know for sure. I don’t want to leave you, but how can I stay?”

The pain and uncertainty in her voice made Eric want to scream. She was leaving? Eric felt pain and panic in his chest, or maybe it was someone else’s chest, he didn’t know. Was he somehow this Danny here? Why? How? He had no answers. At the moment, he only knew one thing. Suzanna was about to leave him. Why? She had said things he didn’t fully understand. If only he could open his eyes. If only he could talk to her. Make her see reason. She couldn’t leave him alone in this place.

Beep…Beep...Beep...Beep…

Not alone with that sound. Not here, wherever here was. He needed to let her know that he wanted her to stay.

Eric tapped into something deep inside. He was a prince. One day he would be a king. And he would not lie helpless when there was work to be done. He wouldn’t. He needed this woman and, from the sound of her voice, she needed him too.

He strained. Not with his body, but with his mind. Strained with every single ounce of will. His eyes wouldn’t budge, so he gave up on them. He strained as he’d never strained before, forced himself with all the strength he could muster to push his lips apart and force out a single word. The sound to his own ears was a rasp of breath that surely no one could hear, but she did. A single word emerged from his too dry lips.

“Stay.”

“What?”

The panic in Suzanna’s voice set his heart hammering. Had he scared her? It hadn’t been his intent.

“Danny, did you speak?”

With great effort, he pushed against the blockage, even if he didn’t understand it. He strained against a weight that was beyond anything he had ever attempted, but he could not let this opportunity pass. Whatever was happening here, he needed her.

“Not…Danny.”

“I’m going mad. This is impossible.”

He felt her turn away, rather than saw her. In panic, his will lashed out.

“No. Stay.”

And she stopped. He didn’t see but rather sensed her. She was still there. She had turned back. He didn’t know how he knew these things but knew them all the same.

“Danny, can you...wake up. Can you open your eyes?”

He wanted to say he wasn’t Danny again. Clearly she didn’t understand, but he had no energy left for that. He had to do as she asked. He had to open his eyes. Even the force of will that had dwarfed his previous exertions, perhaps all of them combined, was nothing compared to what he threw into the effort of trying to help her. For that moment, everything else was forgotten. Dahr, Striker, Chari, the undead threat, nothing was more important than the monumental task he had before him. Each eyelid might have weighed a thousand tons, but slowly, he forced them open. He heard Suzanna gasp.

“Danny?”

He tried to answer but the effort was beyond him. Completely spent, he sank back into a state of mental exhaustion, still conscious, but unable to respond again.

*

Captain Jericho entered the Temple of Sheba. Before he could ask an acolyte where to find the High Priest, he noticed Veloran heading straight toward him.

“High Priest Veloran, the king bids you to attend him at the palace.”

Veloran shook his head. “Please offer my apologies to the king, but I am needed here.”

Captain Jericho looked stunned. “The king has summoned you, priest.”

The disrespect was not lost on Veloran. “Yes. And I am refusing his summons. I have been told by Sheba that I am needed here. I have a duty to my king, but my first duty is to the goddess.”

Jericho’s face darkened. “This is important, dammit.”

“Everything is important to someone. But it doesn’t change what I’ve already said. My goddess requires me to stay in the temple. Please relay that to King Terrence, along with my apologies.”

Jericho leaned closer to Veloran. “The princes have been taken.”

This seemed to give the high priest a moment of pause, but only a moment. “Milady has told me I am needed here. Are you suggesting that she isn’t aware of the situation at the palace?”

“No, of course she’s aware.”

“Then she has decided that my presence here is more useful than my presence there. It is even possible that my staying here might do more to locate the princes than my returning to the palace. I may not know much, but I do know one thing. Sheba sees more than I do. I must trust her will and judgment. I’d be a fool not to.”

Captain Jericho looked as if he were about to retort but instead nodded curtly, turned on his heel and stalked away.

Deftly done.

“I wish I knew more about why I was refusing the king’s summons.”

He could feel Sheba smiling sadly in his mind. No, Veloran. You really don’t.

*

Chari and Kalutu moved quickly through the streets, but the guards, of course, kept up with them easily. Several people stopped to watch the procession, which was moving too quickly to be out for a casual stroll, but nothing happened during the trip. When they reached the temple, Chari turned to Kalutu.

“I’ll see you later.”

Kalutu bowed and started to walk away, but Sart moved to block him.

“Just where do you think you’re going?”

“To the Adventurer’s Guild. I’m a member you know, or at least, my masters are. In the event of an adventurer disappearing, it is my responsibility to report it to the guild. Perhaps you’d like to send some guards with me?”

“And weaken the guard around the princess? What kind of fool do you think I am?”

Kalutu shrugged. “I’m not sure. What kind of fools are there?”

Sart glared but didn’t reply. Kalutu stepped around him and moved away from the temple.

“Nice try, Your Highness,” said Sart.

Chari smiled, refusing to let Sart see her ire. “You may not know it, guardsman, but your ego will absolutely be your undoing. If your job is to stop whatever is about to happen, you’ve already failed.”

For a moment, Sart’s certainty flickered, before he sneered at her. “I have your father’s confidence, princess.”

Chari smiled sweetly. “For at least the next few hours.”

She entered the temple before he could say anything else. Sart motioned for several guards to follow her in.

Whatever she had planned, he’d be ready.

*

Suzanna stared at the empty bed. Had she imagined it? She had no idea. In fifteen years of life, Danny had never said a single word. Not one. And now, he’d come out of a coma and spoken to her. An impossibility in more ways than one.

She had been talking to him about leaving...had already made the decision. The money she was making, and it was substantial, didn’t compensate for the pain of watching him like this day after day. Mrs. Bradsworth would offer her more money to prevent her from leaving, she had no doubt of that. The absolute certainty that Danny would recover, drove Mrs. Bradsworth to spend incalculable sums, and her husband indulged her, probably because most of it was hers. This wasn’t the first time Suzanna had wanted to move on, and each time she had agreed to stay, driven by her need for funds, but it had become too much. She knew she’d never have a job as lucrative as the one she had now, but there was nothing for it. She couldn’t put a price on sanity.

Suzanna had alerted the doctors to Danny’s change in condition, and he was with them now, but they wouldn’t find anything. And yet, a small part of her hoped they would. Because if he came back to them, she would be able to stay. Would be able to send money back to her girls. And she’d be able to help again. That’s all she really wanted.

Though she knew it was hopeless, she couldn’t stop the excitement from building as the second hour began. Finally another nurse came to see her, as opposed to one of the doctors.

“I’m sorry, hon, I know you’re waiting, but they’re still running tests.”

“They should be done by now, surely.”

“There have been some anomalous results. I’m not supposed to say anything, but I saw you standing in here alone, and...I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I know how attached you are to the boy.”

“Is he still…”

“There’s brain activity that the doctors can’t explain. It’s not normal. In fact, it doesn’t even look like his brain activity.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does.”

Suzanna thought about the voice coming through him. It had said that he wasn’t Danny. If not, then who could it be? Had Danny developed some sort of multiple personality disorder? Would that show up differently on brain scans? What exactly were the scans showing?

At least it confirmed that she probably hadn’t been hallucinating. She hadn’t told anyone that Danny had spoken, worried for her professional reputation. She simply asked for tests to be run because she thought she saw signs of consciousness. And because of her position as a private nurse under the employ of a very wealthy hospital benefactor, no one questioned her too closely. She didn’t know what she would have said if they had.

She knew she should tell someone that she’d heard him speak, but it seemed ridiculous. How could a child who had been mute all his life, go into a coma and come out speaking? And why would he say he’s not Danny? It was that last bit that bothered her the most.

Suzanna was not a superstitious person, but like many people, she wasn’t prepared to deny that a supernatural occurrence could happen. She could say she didn’t believe in them as much as she wanted to, but somewhere deep inside, she felt afraid. She would have to be very careful with Danny moving forward.

She had phoned Mrs. Bradsworth as soon as the doctors came to take him for tests. She would have preferred not to, but had no choice. If she didn’t, and Danny did wake up, Mrs. Bradsworth would have wanted to know why. She was on her way to the hospital now. And Suzanna had already decided not to tell her that Danny had spoken. If it never happened again, Mrs. Bradsworth wouldn’t have to suffer the disappointment of having missed it. If it did happen, it would be a delightful surprise.

In the mean time, all she could do was wait to hear what the test results showed.

*

Lord Ormund sat on his bed, breathing heavily. He had left the throne room a short time after he’d been all but accused of being a traitor. The very thought left him breathless. He had been loyal, perhaps not directly to the king, but always to the queen. Which meant he would never betray her children. Any of them. He would protect them with his life. The very idea that he could do otherwise upset him terribly. How could they not trust him after all this time?

Why was he being accused? What had he actually done? It seemed ludicrous that anyone could think he, of all people, would have anything to do with the princes’ disappearance.

Admittedly, he often complained about how he was treated by Dahr, but he was just venting. He would never have done anything to hurt the boy. Why had Captain Jericho singled him out?

He had no idea. He had never had any dealings with Captain Jericho. When the captain had been moved to the wall, he was just a young apprentice. The entire time Jericho was gone, Lord Ormund had barely interacted with him. He’d heard almost nothing about the captain since he’d moved out of the palace. He had assumed the same applied in reverse. He could think of nothing he had done to get on the captain’s bad side. But the why of it hardly mattered.

He had two choices. He could stay and face some sort of interrogation, which would prove without a shadow of a doubt that he was innocent on all accounts but might end up revealing the queen’s secret, or he could flee and protect both himself and the queen. Of course, if he fled, everyone would assume he was guilty. He’d never be able to return. All those years of service for nothing. But the queen’s secret… no, he could never risk revealing that. He had given his word.

He started packing a bag. He would have to travel light. Where would he go? He couldn’t just leave here with no plan. What would he do? Where could he go where the king wouldn’t be able to locate him?

Once, a century ago, his family had owned land. To be sure, there was still land, just a lot less of it. In the days of Lethe, they had been wealthy, but they had been one of the first to surrender to Mavros when he had sacked Rish, and since that time, he and his kin had fallen on harder fortune.

A hundred years ago, they had had slaves. They weren’t called slaves of course. They were called indentured servants, but the line between the two was fairly hazy. It had been a disgusting practice, and King Mavros had done away with it in his kingdom. Under his rule, each person working for a Lord had to receive a living wage. So his family went from being nobility to employers. And it had been okay, for a while. But a couple of droughts, an ancestor who had spend some of the fortune drinking and gambling, and other misfortunes had greatly diminished them. By the time Ormund was born, the fifth son of a man who was more farmer than Lord, their title was a fond memory. No one cared what they thought. They had no place at court. And as the fifth son, Ormund didn’t warrant much respect or attention at home. He didn’t care about farming, so his father didn’t care about him. But he did care about magic.

For as long as he could remember, magic had fascinated him. And his family was still well off enough to let him choose a god to give his life to. When the priestess of Iorana had showed up at their house, on Ormund’s sixteenth birthday, his father had welcomed her in, but that was the extent of his support. Ormund’s father had barely spoken to him after that day. His mother had been more understanding but only marginally. No one had time for him if he wasn’t going to be a farmer. So he left, traveled to Rish and joined the Mage’s Guild, where he studied magic.

His big break had come when he apprenticed himself to a mage named Scott Travers, who almost immediately found a place at the palace. That mage had eventually joined a team of adventurers and left. Ormund, who had little interest in adventuring, stayed behind in the mage’s rooms.

Scott’s team had gone off on several smaller contracts, before taking one from which they never returned. This left Ormund in the unusual position of having a room in the palace as an apprentice to a mage who was no longer there. But Ormund was knowledgeable and skillful and eventually grew into the rooms. No one had officially promoted him, but when it became clear that his master wasn’t going to return, a young King Terrence had told him he could stay as long as he liked. Even paid him a salary as a mage. Ormund had been grateful to that king and knew his way forward was to impress him, which he tried to do. That meant learning everything he could about magic and working hard to keep adding to that knowledge. It also meant politics, which he was notably bad at, but he tried his best. And now, years later, he was the most powerful of the palace’s mages, even if he had yet to be granted any official title. He had always thought that day would come, but now he wasn’t so sure.

The reputation he had worked so hard to build over so many years was in danger. Perhaps even if he stayed, it would be left in tatters. Nothing he could do could save him now, and he’d done nothing wrong. It was so unfair. It’s not like he was one of the princes and on speaking terms with the gods. Regardless, he whispered a prayer to Iorana. She didn’t respond, of course. That sort of thing was reserved for others. Men who mattered. What had his life been but one long attempt to show people that he had value?

He looked at the partially packed bag on the bed. If he ran, he couldn’t defend himself. If he ran, they’d think the worst. As quickly as he’d packed it, he emptied it, cursing the whole time.

Whatever happened, he would not run. He would stay and defend his good name as best he could. And whatever else happened, he would not betray the queen. That much, at least, he could do.

The decision made, he felt better. For all of three seconds, when there was a knock on the door. After a moment of hesitation, he walked to it, steeled himself and pulled it open. To his surprise, Queen Treya stood outside.

“Your Highness?”

It was the last person he expected.

“Are you all right?”

The queen had come here to check on him personally? That was more stressful than the rest of the day had been.

“Yes, of course, Your Highness. You shouldn’t need to worry about me.”

“I don’t need to do anything, but I am worried. I was worried you might consider fleeing. I don’t have much time, so I’ll be brief. I know I have tasked you with keeping a secret, and if you can, that’s fine and good, but don’t lie to the king. If he finds out, he finds out. I should have told him anyway. I plan to, after all this. And while it would be better to come from my lips, this is not your burden to bear. The king will understand if you tell the truth. Do you understand me?”

He gaped. The queen was here. Here to protect him. She cared about what happened to him. Her secret wasn’t as important as his well-being.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

“Good. I have to get back. It will be all right. You’ll see.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The thought kept going around and around in his mind. The queen was here. She actually cared what happened to him. And then she was gone. He closed the door almost as an afterthought. All the fear he’d felt just a short time ago was gone. The urge to run was behind him. She cared. That alone was enough to get him through what was to come.

He had heard her, and he understood. She did not want her secret to cause him pain. And yet, what was his pain to hers? The queen’s? She had lost a child, and he’d been unable to stop it. That was her pain forever. In the face of that kind of loss, did his pain even matter? It was ludicrous. If there was no way before he would ever betray her, now more than ever, he would keep her secret. He owed her that much, surely.

He walked to the bed and sat down heavily upon it, but it was like a great weight had been removed from his shoulders. The queen had come to his rooms. He would prove to her that he was a man worthy of that consideration, whatever price he had to pay in the end.


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