Call of Descent
Chapter Eight

Plagued by dreams, the night wore on tirelessly. Most of her dreams revolved around the day she had come to Vespen. She relived the fall over and over: the horror-stricken look on Dertrik’s face and her own shock as she fell into the blue light. Finally, however, one dream stuck out from the rest. It was more a memory than a dream, and it gave Reniko a warm feeling.

She was not much younger than she was now, seventeen. Dertrik had cut their swordwork short, distracted by something unknown to Reniko. She had tried to pry it out of him, hoping she could help; however, he was bottled up tight and just sighed and changed the subject whenever she asked. She had finally resigned, meekly following him into his study, hoping that her mere presence would soothe his soul. Dertrik had not been displeased with this, and Reniko did not ask if it would be all right. They had known each other for far too long for words to have any more meaning than the silence did. Some things didn’t need words, and whatever Dertrik was uneasy about, Reniko didn’t need to know. If she did, he would have told her, and she understood this.

Dertrik’s study reflected warmth. Every wall contained oak bookshelves that were accessible by a sturdy sliding ladder. The furniture that wasn’t oak was a rich red that accented the deep green that encased the room. Since the first time she had seen it, Renny had loved this room and revelled in the fact that Dertrik allowed her to explore it to her heart’s content. Dertrik slid behind his desk and eased into his overstuffed chair, giving a low sigh. He glanced at Reniko, who stood staring at him blankly. She cocked her head to one side and smiled.

“You know, when I grow up, I hope I don’t worry about things as much as you do.”

“You are grown up, Renny.”

“That’s what I lead everyone to believe, but you want to know a secret?”

“What?” Dertrik said as he tried to hide the grin that gripped his face.

“I rarely think as grown up as I sound,” Reniko whispered and grinned. “Seriously, Dare, you’re depressing.”

“I’m an old man. I’m allowed to be depressing.”

“Being old hardly justifies your mood, especially when you are not as old as you think.”

“Oh, let me brood. I don’t do it often enough for you to be on my case about it.”

Reniko rolled her eyes and turned to the shelf directly behind her, her back now facing Dertrik. She ran her hands over the dusty old books, and upon reaching the end, she ran her hand back. She wasn’t looking at any title in particular; instead, she just stopped, grabbed the book her hand happened to be lying on and sat in a nearby chair to read. She was a couple of pages into it when she realized that it was an old manual for, interestingly enough, the very thing that Dertrik was teaching her.

She flipped through the first few pages looking at the hand-painted drawings that covered most of the pages and the scratchy print that went with them. She noticed a lot of the things that she had learned over the years were in this book. Despite that, some of the more advanced things Dare had taught her she couldn’t locate, though she thought she knew why. The manual itself was ancient, and new techniques must have been incorporated after many years of master-to-student teaching. Finally, she reached a part near the very back of the book that she had not covered with Dertrik and wondered if, in time, he would teach her what she saw there.

As Reniko sat, deeply involved in the manual, Dertrik looked up nervously. He wasn’t used to Reniko being so silent when he was moody, even if she tried her hardest to be. He glanced in her direction, and upon seeing her deep in concentration on one of the older books in his collection, he wandered over to her.

When he was over her shoulder, and she still gave no hint that she knew he was there, he spoke. “What, pray tell, has got you so enamoured that you have forgotten your brooding master?”

Reniko looked up from the book and smiled. “Ah, it looks like I have found a good way of getting you out of your moods: ignore you!” She stuck out her tongue childishly and turned back to the book. “It looks like I found the old Blade manual. It seems you’ve shelved it thinking you know the thing front to back, but you seemed to have forgotten a bit. Look.” Reniko flipped to some pages in the back of the book and held it over her head so that Dertrik could have a closer look.

“I haven’t forgotten anything from the manual. I just don’t think you are ready for some of the things in there.”

Reniko pulled the book back into her lap and turned sharply to meet Dertrik. “Not ready? After all this time, you really think I am not ready?”

“Your response justifies my judgment.”

Reniko frowned. “I hate when you do that.”

“Because I’m right,” he said.

“Of course,” she said grumpily. Then, after a pause, she continued. “But do you really think I’m not ready for something more advanced?”

“To tell you the truth, Reniko, some of what’s in there I cannot even do. A lot of that is theory. No one has done it, it was written down as something that was tried and could succeed, but no one has done it. I truly mean no one when I say that,” he added, seeing the mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“Well, in theory, it should work. Nothing is impossible, you know.”

Dertrik sighed. “Just give me back the book, Reniko.”

Reniko jerked the book away from Dertrik’s outstretched hand and hid it protectively. “All you need is a little faith.”

“If that were all you needed, I would know how to do all that is in that book.”

“Can’t you just let me dream a little more about this?” Reniko pleaded. Dertrik, however, was not giving in.

“Reniko, no matter how much hope you have that you can do those things, they are impossible.”

“I’m chock-full of it! You giving up on hope, Dare? Hope is there till you die, which means I will try and figure this out until I die!”

Dertrik gave a hearty laugh, his worries now a faint thing in his mind. “You are exhausting, Reniko. Fine, hope all you want. I’m sorry I used that word, you seem to be the embodiment of it, and I keep forgetting that. Come and look at the book whenever you like, but just promise me one thing.”

“Anything,” Reniko said.

“When you figure out how to do those things, would you mind teaching an old man a few new tricks?”

Reniko laughed. “Of course, Dare.” They had laughed until Claire had come to see what was going on, which made them laugh even more. Reniko remembered that day fondly but with a strange unease. Dare said the same thing that Milla had, that she embodied hope. It was strange to hear; having heard it twice in her lifetime, Reniko felt disconcerted.

She woke from her nostalgia to realize the night had not ended and fell back into the unfamiliar bed, a little more at ease. The rest of her night was dreamless and deep, so she felt refreshed and ready for the new day by the time she woke.

Ima shuffled into Reniko’s room, letting in the chilled air from the corridor. Still in bed, she clutched the covers closer to her body as the draft washed over her.

“Good morning, Ima,” Reniko said as Ima carefully closed the door. She stretched and let the covers fall around her as she placed her feet in the slippers that stood on the stone ground.

“Ryshiionna, nyeroma Reniko,” Ima replied and blushed as she realized she had spoken in her native tongue.

“It’s all right, Ima. I think I’m starting to understand this a little. Ryshiionna, that means good morning, am I correct?”

“Yes, Milady. Did wake you?” Ima asked as she relit the lamps that gave light to the room.

“No, I was awake before you came.”

“Early, did not think wake, no else wake.”

“Except you, of course,” Reniko said as she rummaged around the room, gathering her scattered clothing.

Ima laughed. “Dawn no arrive. I give light so wake up not in dark. My duty as arialin noka,” Ima finished.

“Arialin noka?” Reniko questioned.

“No word. Umm. Under train head.”

Reniko puzzled over this for a moment and thought she understood. “Part of your duty as training with Milla?”

“Shi. Yes.”

“Well, I won’t be going back to sleep, so would you maybe show me to the baths?” Ima looked confused.

“Well, let me see.” Reniko paused and imitated washing herself. “Bathe. Bath. A place to wash myself.”

“Oh, bath! So sorry, second forgot, back now.” Ima made for the door and looked back at Reniko. “Cold. Need cover self.”

Reniko glanced around the room, and her gaze rested on the cloak that Malik had given her. She took it and wrapped it around her, latching the clasp shut. She stood, staring at the pin. Why did he give me something so valuable? Did he mean it only as a loan, and if so, does that mean he’ll be back for me? Ima’s restlessness seized Reniko from her thoughts, and she let go of the clasp and gestured to Ima that she was ready.

Once the door was opened, despite the mist that hung in the air from the steamy hot spring, Reniko was glad that Ima had suggested the cloak. The air was frigid, and the moisture just weighted the air with damp cold. The two women walked down the corridor without a word, and Reniko became enamoured by the complete silence that invaded the area. Ima had been correct when she had said no one was awake at this hour save herself. It seemed the entire world slept. It gave her thoughts time to sink in without being invaded by a thousand other things to ponder. It rendered peacefulness to the morning that she had rarely experienced in her life.

The steady drumming of the water cascading down into the fountain’s basins broke the silence, and a sudden warmth from the newly created steam fully wakened Reniko.

Once Ima had shown her to the corner of the room, where the boiling water mixed with the cooler water from the mountain stream, she said a polite goodbye and returned to her duties. Reniko flung off the cloak and let it pile on the floor. Slipping off the chemise she had slept in, her breath caught in the morning chill, and she half ran, half jumped into the shallow pool before her. The water hit her skin like needles as she immersed her cold flesh in the extreme heat. It was refreshing, and Reniko let the warmth carry her away as it soothed the ache in her body and rested her tired soul.

Refreshed, now that the morning was less chilled, Reniko put on her clothes, and in the pervasively still morning, she began to explore the area.

After wandering the corridors, she longed for the touch of the sun or moon on her face, and she headed down a passage where the faint morning light was shining as the sun rose from its dreamy sleep. She took a long deep breath as she gazed at the surrounding garden that she stepped into and greeted the dawning of a new morning. She heard the animals stirring in a nearby stable and, with them, the hands that tended them. Then, as the sun crested above the mountaintops, the world began to wake. Reniko headed back into the temple, but a need tugged at her. Although her desire not to kill remained, she could not ignore her familiar routine, especially with her bizarre situation and unfamiliar surroundings.

Finally succumbing to the pent-up energy inside her, she made her way to a more secluded section of the stone-filled garden. She found the perfect spot when she walked over a small footbridge, which crossed over a brook that trailed lazily through the foliage. Big willow trees stood beside it, hiding a small clearing lined with large boulders arranged in an intricate pattern. A song of many birds crying out to their mates filtered into the little clearing, giving the illusion that hundreds of birds were gathered in that spot. It brought a smile to Reniko’s face.

After deciding that she would conduct her exercises here, she searched the ground for a suitable stick and, upon replaceing one, set to work. Her training continued its dance-like movements, slow at first, then gaining speed until she was an intricate weave of motion and purpose. The stick served as a taijijian sword, and she cut and slashed at phantoms with a trance-induced calm that she inhabited when she trained. She was so caught up in her art that she didn’t realize someone was upon her until the snap of a twig beneath their foot betrayed them. Reniko immediately stopped. Still in her training trance, Reniko leaped in the direction of the sound and landed a few feet in front of the intruder, with the stick suspended above Milla’s heart.

Reniko pulled it away slowly, giving Milla a slight bow. “My apologies, Milla.”

“That was incredible. I have never in all my life seen anything like it. The Rük have forbidden the Arts. Well, the art of fighting and defending. They want docile people, not fighters. Not that that stops us from training here, though all the skilled masters have perished at the hand of those vile creatures. Can it be that you still learn the Arts where you are from?” Milla asked, her voice barely above a whisper and full of excitement.

“Well, yes. Not many women choose to learn, but I don’t take no for an answer when it comes to things I want.” Reniko smiled as she remembered her boldness when she had faced Dertrik, a stranger, and announced that he would teach her what he knew of the Blade.

“Maybe you could teach –” Milla paused without completing her thought as she saw Reniko’s face go rigid and cold.

“I can’t,” Reniko said as the sight of the lime green Rük falling to her blade came unbidden to her mind. “I just can’t. Please forgive me.”

“I understand. Please forget I asked. It’s too much. I forget that you are not from here. Please, come; we will start your lessons in the Vespian language today.”

Reniko nodded, her mood sombre. She dropped the stick and picked up Malik’s cloak as she followed Milla back to the temple.

Milla led Reniko into the archives: a vast room lined with scrolls and various books. Most of them were moth-eaten or burnt. However, men and women around the room were copying those that were salvageable. Though the condition of the books was lacking, the room was as well-kept as the rest of the temple, built with the same strange structured yet organic look that permeated the entire city.

They sat at a low table near the front of the room. Milla left Reniko to stare after her as she ran around the room collecting parchment, quills and an assortment of books. She came back, dumping the contents of her hands before Reniko.

As they progressed in their lessons, Reniko realized that the language the Vespians used was vaguely familiar to her. The written words almost perfectly matched a style she had learned as a young girl, and she picked it up immediately. She commented to Milla shortly into their studies that she had, when she was young, been taught nearly every language used or unused on Earth. As she grew, her parents focused her on the few she picked up the best. She told Milla that, although the language of Vespen didn’t match any language she had heard on Earth, it had similar properties to one. Milla was excited about this since it would make Reniko’s understanding come quickly and reaffirmed her faith that Earth and Vespen had made contact with each other at some point. Reniko was also glad of this discovery and poured her whole heart into mastering the Vespian language. She had never been so happy about her parents’ tedious classes.

Days passed, then weeks, and soon months. For a while, the only thoughts that consumed Reniko were of scouring the archives for hints of a way home. As the months dragged on, she realized nothing could be found there. Her regular trips to the archives turned into sporadic trips and then none at all. The archives became a distant memory as Reniko found a routine in the temple. She felt comfortable with her surroundings and had almost mastered the Vespians’ native tongue perfectly. The temple inhabitants could hardly believe the deftness with which Reniko had learned their tongue and their way of life. Reniko was unnerved by how comfortable she felt here in this peaceful valley.

Malik had never returned for her, and she had given up hope in him ever doing so. The children still treated her as a legend, and the stories of her defeat of three Rük still caused a stir in the city. Milla had never brought up training soldiers since the first time that she saw Reniko in the meadow, and Reniko was happy to forget it. She felt almost at home here. She worked alongside the farmers in the last days leading up to winter, and through the winter, she helped Ima and other students study Latin. Thoughts of returning to her previous life still plagued Reniko daily, but they held little hope for her. She longed with all her heart to go home but lacked a way to get there.

In the last month of winter, when the biting cold was most bitter and fought on with a vengeance to stave off the coming thaw, Reniko regained her hope. She was in the archives with Ima and her four other students. Reniko had remembered a book she had glanced through and thought it would be helpful for what she was trying to teach the five of them and had asked Rillan, one of the copyists, if he would help her look for it. She was scanning the titles on one of the lower shelves when her fingers grazed the underside of the shelving, and a thin piece of paper floated to the ground. The paper had caught on the slivers of wood that marred the roof of the shelf, and Reniko had knocked it loose as she rapidly moved her hand across the books. She picked it up and glanced it over. It was a faded map. Ancient and incomplete. It showed the area surrounding Savonly identical to the maps of Edonal Eclith that lined the walls of the archives, save for one small detail. A mark on the most northern part of the map indicated a city that did not appear on the newer maps. Reniko walked determinedly over to Rillan.

“Rillan, have you ever heard of a city called Reflaydun?” she asked, still staring fixedly at the map.

“Reflaydun? Yes, though only at Tellings. And, well, most of the stories told at Tellings are more myth than reality.”

“What do they say about this Reflaydun?”

“Not much, just vague references. It is said to have been the home of the Ancients, though no one has ever mapped its location. It is fabled that whoever goes there must pass many tests and trials before they can gain entry. It is said that inside its walls is the complete knowledge of the Ancients, the Levanith. No one has ever found Reflaydun, though. As I said, it’s just a myth.”

“Maybe not,” Reniko said thoughtfully as she carefully scanned the map. “Mind if I keep this?” She asked, holding out the map for Rillan to see. His eyes widened at the sight of it.

“Lady Reniko! It’s is a map to Reflaydun!”

“I see that. Do you think you could make a copy for me?”

“Of course, Milady, but whatever for?”

“I think it’s about time I head home, Rillan, and Reflaydun might just be my way there.”

“Home? Is this not your home?”

“You all have been very kind to me, but –” Reniko faltered. It did feel like home. So much like home, so comfortable and welcome. She closed her eyes, trying to gain her composure. She saw images of Dertrik, her mother and father, Claire and Erik. She missed them terribly, and though thoughts of leaving Savonly did draw a sadness to her heart, thoughts of staying away from all those who loved her back on Earth any longer shattered her heart into thousands of pieces. She couldn’t help but realize how long she had been gone from them, not just a matter of days anymore, but months. They must think I am dead by now. That thought grieved her most of all, and when she looked at Rillan, she had firm resolve. “I’ve loved being with all of you, but this isn’t my home. I left people that care for me deeply, and if I don’t return, their hearts will grieve much more than those I leave behind here.”

Rillan nodded. “We all knew that you would leave in time. I mean, what you are and everything– well, we all knew that– when we first saw you walking the corridors, we never expected you would stay as long as you have.” Reniko looked at him in confusion. She had the feeling that even though she knew Vespian well, she still missed the meaning sometimes. This was one of those times.

“I don’t think I understand,” Reniko said.

“It’s not his place to tell you; it’s mine,” Milla said as she came up behind Reniko. “You are, after all, one of my acolytes.”

Reniko gave a polite bow. “Priestess Milla. I did not know you were present in the archives today.” Rillan also bowed slightly, although he gave no voice in the conversation.

“Come, Reniko, let Rillan get to that task he has promised you while we talk.” Rillan took his leave, and Reniko had no choice but to follow Milla, who led her to the garden, handing Reniko her cloak on the way.

“When you first came here, and I did your ribbon reading, I told you that you displayed the attribute of hope, remember?”

“Yes, you did,” Reniko said. She remembered distinctly that every time she had brought up what Milla had meant when Milla said that, Milla had refused her. So Reniko had given up trying to get the answer weeks ago and was surprised that she was bringing it up.

“Why are you telling me this now?” she asked.

“You were not ready. You were already broken when you came to us atop Malik’s Teoko; I saw it in your eyes. You lost your way and needed time to replace it again. That first day I saw you in the garden, I thought you had regained yourself, but when I saw the look on your face when the thought of fighting entered your mind, I knew there was healing yet to be done.”

“I still don’t wish to fight. So what’s the difference now?”

“The difference is that you have chosen a path that finally leads away from Savonly. You’ve chosen to go home, and now it’s time to prepare you for that journey.”

“You sound like you have been waiting for me to do this from the start.”

“I have. I’m a ribbon reader, the best one that Savonly has seen in a long time. I don’t just see attributes as everyone in the temple is taught to see; I also see intent and purpose, and from that, it’s not very hard to see where a person is heading.”

They were in the meadow where Reniko held her practices every morning. She had never stopped training, even if she had lost her will to fight.

“I’m going to tell you this, and you will leave here. I don’t know where your path will take you, but I will prepare you as much as possible. You see, Reniko, no matter how much you wish never to kill again, I believe you will have to. The Rük, no matter how you see them, do not care for your life or the life of any other, and as soon as you leave this place, they will never stop hunting you. You killed their own –something no one has dared to do– and as dangerous as they are to any human on Vespen, they will be ten-fold to you. I know you don’t plan to be on Vespen much longer; however, no matter how long or short your stay is here, you will be in danger every second you stay on this planet. So you must fight if you are going to go home. You must fight, Reniko.”

Reniko’s breathing became heavy. She had never heard Milla like this at all. Reniko could sense something in Milla that drove her with such fierceness, something that Reniko could not grasp.

“Why do you care so much about this, Milla?”

Milla’s body sagged as she let out her breath, misty in the chill air. “I didn’t want to tell you why everyone stares at you like you are the goddess herself.”

Reniko hugged herself. She had noticed the stares and had ignored them. However, they were still there no matter how much she disregarded them. She hated that Milla brought it up.

“I always thought it was because I had killed those three Rük.”

“That helped, but your ribbon reading caused the stares. You must have known that from the little I did tell you.”

“Yes, I guess I did.”

“You are hope, just not how you think you are. You showed us that you are not your hope but everyone else’s–” Milla diverted her eyes from Reniko’s face.

Reniko stared at her, shaken. “Do you believe this? How can I be someone’s hope? I just want to go home, Milla!” She already knew as she spoke that Milla did believe. They were all placing their hope in her. Hope that I do what? What do they need from me? They have their god and goddess to save them, not me. I just want to go home.

“Forgive me, Lady Reniko; we just read what we see.”

“I– I have to go,” Reniko stammered as she retreated to the temple.

“Reniko, please wait. I wish to give you something before you leave us.”

Reniko turned and watched as Milla held out a jewel-studded scabbard, a sword hiding within its shell.

“Please take it for me. I don’t care if you use it. The Levanith used it before the Rük destroyed them. You are the only one in all Savonly with enough skill to wield it. So please take it for me.”

Reniko reached out for the sword, unsheathed it and looked at it with awe. It resembled a Chinese straight sword in every way, and Reniko gathered that either the Chinese had learned to make them from the Levanith or the Levanith had learned it from the Chinese. Either way, what she held in her hand was perfection. Set between the deep blue hilt and the blade, making the middle of the draconic Levanith symbol, was a milky blue jewel that seemed to flow and mix into itself as Reniko held it firmly in her hand. The Levanith dragon had its wings extended out, making a T shape between blade and hilt. It was a mix of silver and rich blues and had its head bowed on the sword’s hilt. A rich yellow tassel swung from the end of the grip, a minor distraction to those on the receiving end of this deadly blade.

As Reniko gripped it, she felt its balance, ideally attuned for her, the grip steady in her hand. Though forged for someone else, it became an extension of her from the moment she touched it. She slowly unsheathed the sword and listened to the steel sing. It drew her in and reminded her of everything she had learned from her teacher; it reminded her that this song was too deeply ingrained in her very being for her just to forget. She could not have declined the gift if she had wanted to. She sheathed it and looked back at Milla, letting her gaze stray away from the sword.

“For you, I shall take this,” she said.

“Its name is Imako.”

“Imako,” Reniko said the name, entranced by the blade. Milla saw this, the spark that rekindled deep inside of Reniko and knew she had succeeded in saving this girl from her despair.