And so the Great War continued, raging across the continents for many more hundreds of years to come. And so it came to pass that in those years, the prophesied descendants of Abel would be born. Their coming was foretold, but none knew who they would be, how they would identify them. The battles had lasted thousands of years now, the rivers running with blood and the ground permanently stained crimson in innumerable villages. It was during this time that a gruesome and evil fate befell the gentle Elders of the far North, Elysia the Wise. Her funeral lasted weeks, and Icchorians mourned the premature death of their beloved Elder.
Dicion was presumed missing and dead, having chased whatever had taken his wife and children from him.
Elysia begat four children in total before she died—two of whom were taken down with them, Peter and Christof, and two who had fled for their lives, Layrion and Ammy, the last born daughter of Dicion and Elysia. The death of Elysia was rumored to be the work of truly great evil, for no human had ever penetrated the fortresses of the Northern Clans. Only a god or a demon could have wrecked the destruction that came to the Elder and her children. It was after this time of mourning and fear that a mysterious Icchorian appeared to Layrion and Ammy, who had taken shelter in a dark cave not far from their once-protected home. With their father mysteriously gone, the two orphaned sisters cannot help but wonder what their fate will be.
“But Laylay, I’m hungry,” whined Ammy, who was but 8,973 years old, barely a register in the lifespan of an Icchorian. “And thirsty.” She rubbed her golden necklaces and trembled.
“I told you, I’d go hunting after I get this fire started.” Layrion, a child herself of 11,986 years, wiped back tears as she tried in vain to restart the fire that had burned out the night before. It was dusk now, safe for her to go out, but not safe from the mysterious evil that had taken her family. Her strong, playful brothers... her wise, quiet mother...gone. Her father...she knew not where. Perhaps he was dead...and if he wasn’t, where was he?
Father knows best. He wouldn’t abandon us. He would never, ever do that. He loves us. He protects us. Where is he? Perhaps he has been captured. And if that is the case, then I must go rescue him.
Finally she struck the flint just right, and the charred wood sparked to life among the ashes. She stared into the fire for a minute, the flickering flames reminding her of the roaring blaze that had awoken her and her sister the night everyone had died. The servants and guards had been in turmoil, frantically searching for survivors as she and Ammy had escaped through a crawlspace in the kitchen. She and her sister were presumed dead along with her mother and brothers, though their girls’ small bodies were indistinguishable from the ashes and fallen rubble. The rest of her family was beyond burned, however, and the old seer had ruled that they hadn’t died from the fire, but from a great evil that had destroyed them from the inside out, eating their hearts in the most agonizing way, and finally their spirits and souls. Their skeletons crumbled and the true Icchorian form had been left to suffer the burning hot coals that followed. The dawn had finished the job, setting ablaze any Icchorian in the fallen palace that hadn’t been killed already.
Layrion snapped out of her memory when Ammy prodded her for food again. Gingerly she picked up her father’s dagger—one he had given her not a week ago, threw on her cloak, and stepped out into the night. She didn’t make it twenty yards from the cave when she ran into another camp, its fire blazing much more brightly than the meager charred coals she’d left her sister with. Fire...what a strange relationship she had with it now. Once the fire had been at her playful elder brother’s command. He would perform tricks for the two younger girls, laughing and always smiling. That smile was now forever gone in the flames he use to will to life. Layrion clenched her hand tight on the dagger.
The dark figure hunched over the flames, rotating what looked like two small rabbits on a stick. Layrion couldn’t see his face, but she sensed that he wasn’t human. Before she could decide if it was worth making her presence known to a stranger, he looked up from his feast and pulled the cowl from his head.
“I thought I sensed another soul. Come closer, child. I am Icchorian, like you. You need not fear.”
Layrion was immediately put at ease. She stepped into the clearing and sat on a large boulder opposite the older man. “Sir, I thank you for your kindness.”
“What brings a youngling like you in the forest alone? There are dark forces about, and Humans too.”
“I’m not alone, sir. My sister and I have lost our family. My mother and brothers are dead, and my father has been captured, I suspect.” Layrion studied the older Icchorian as she explained her plight. His hair was dark and dreadlocked, with a few locks around his face being bound in gold. Only his face was visible, but his skin was as tan as the earth...far different from the stark whiteness of everyone Layrion had ever seen. His face stiffened as she mentioned the death of her family.
“You and your sister...both of you practically babies in our lifespan, surely this is the greatest tragedy that could ever befall Icchorians. As a fellow Elder, I am bound by our blood to help you find your father. As it stands now, the Council must convene at once to choose a replacement for your mother.” The stranger finished roasting his rabbits and offered one to Layrion.
“I had always assumed it would go to one of my brothers.” Layrion took the animal, bit it in half and crunched it, eating the fur, bones, and organs along with the meat. She shoved the other half in her cloak for her sister.
“More than likely it will go to you, as the next in your bloodline. It is your birthright, but the Council must meet nonetheless.” He stood. “My name is Akil, and I am an Elder from the South. Won’t you allow me to shelter you and your sister...what was her name?”
“I never mentioned it. It’s Ammy. I am Layrion.”
“Ah, the daughters of Dicion! Yes, now I can place your tragedy. Your mother, Elysia, was one of the most beloved Elders. You can be sure that the Council will spare no expense on armies and search parties to find out who dared to do this to your clan.”
Layrion couldn’t help but shiver. So, this was Akil, the most controversial name that she’d ever heard whispered in her house. Either he was loved or hated; seldom ever chose middle ground. He was a source of many an argument between her parents, she remembered, and her brothers spoke of him in hushed tones to the servants. She let these memories stew in her mind as Akil carried on about the Great War and justice for her family.
“I’ll go with you,” she resolved. “My sister and I will take you up on your offer.”
“My heart is overjoyed. To tutor and train the children of my late friends...it will bring me the highest pleasure.” Akil stood and bowed. After finishing his own rabbit, he let out a long series of whistles. A group of ten more Icchorians emerged from the shadows around them. “Fetch my carriage and horses. We will travel while the night is still young.” He turned to Layrion. “Go and retrieve your sister, young one, and one of my servants will follow you and bring you to me. We will make for my fortress at once.” Akil snapped his fingers and the hooded figures bowed, then disappeared into the night.
Layrion found her way back to the cave. Ammy was meditating, and Layrion knew that she was trying her hardest to enter the Spirit Realm, a world that was closed to many of her kind. The Originator predestined worthy Icchorians to communicate with Him; Layrion was one of them, though she knew not why. She was neither a Seer nor a Priestess. Her sister was born with the mark of a Scholar, and to Scholars, that realm was contained their only connection to decoding ancient prophesies—the Originator Himself. Ammy had never fully transcended planes, but still she tried daily. Layrion smiled at her peaceful sister and gently touched her shoulder.
“Ammy, I brought you a cooked rabbit.”
Ammy cracked an eye. “Oh, you’re back! I think I’m making progress! I can see more light this time, and I can make out the temple walls that I’ve heard the others talk about.”
Layrion chuckled. “You’ll be speaking with the Originator himself in no time. Here, eat your dinner while I explain what just happened.”
Ammy took the charred animal and crunched happily as Layrion told her of the Elder Akil and his offer of shelter.
“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” Ammy sighed. “Well, he seems nice enough. And as long as I have you, I won’t be afraid.”
Layrion took her sister’s hand. “We’ll always have each other. I will always protect you, Ammy.”
A figure suddenly stepped into the entrance of the cave and bowed. “If it please the descendants of Dicion and Elysia, I am here to escort you to Lord Akil’s carriage.”
Layrion and Ammy stepped forward. “I’m Layrion, and this is my sister, Ammy.”
The cloaked servant drew back her hood to reveal the face of a young girl, not past twenty Human years. “My name is Kali, and Lord Akil has entrusted me with your lives. I will be your handmaiden and caretaker as long as you command me. “
The two young orphans smiled immediately. Kali’s aura made them feel completely at ease; Ammy even let Kali carry her to the dusty dirt road where Akil’s carriage was waiting. The journey to Akil’s fortress in the South was one that would take many weeks, and the girls were glad of some company other than the kind but stoic Akil. The three talked and giggled in hushed tones until Layrion and Ammy fell asleep on Kali’s lap several hours later. Akil had remained silent the entire trip thus far, and surprised Kali when he spoke.
“You’re quite taken with the girls, I see.”
“Yes, my Lord. They are very brave. I foresee great futures for them both. They will bring a new era to our world.”
“Now, none of that prophesying while we’re on a mission.”
“Oh, is that what this is to be? If it wasn’t for my prophecies about their parents, we wouldn’t even be here,” Kali retorted.
“You forget that there are other prophets in my clan; they can see farther into the future than you can, and with more accuracy.”
Kali pursed her lips and kept silent, her ego bruised but not broken.
Through the weeks that followed, Layrion and Ammy asked Kali just about every question that they could think of, and when they finally tired of their nanny, turned to Akil for answers. Layrion just couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew more about her parents than he revealed.
“How long did you know my mother and father?”
“Practically their whole lives, young one. I am the First Elder, as you know, and I had a hand in selecting the other 777 Elders. Your mother and father were some of the best friends an Icchorian could ever have. This mysterious force that has emerged...powerful enough to kill our kind without hope for regeneration...it puts me ill at ease. As if the humans weren’t threat enough.”
“Do you think it will be back? What if my parents were a target? What if the Originator smote them because they were questioning His law?”
Layrion and Ammy had never heard Akil laugh in all the days they spent cooped up in his carriage, and they could’ve gone a hundred lifetimes without hearing the sound that escaped his lips. It was so piercing that the girls thought daggers were ripping them asunder. It seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him, as if another thing was trapped within him and laughing in his place. It shook Layrion and Ammy to the bone, and it was a sound they never wished to hear again. Akil might have been kind, but his sounds of mirth were not.
Akil finally calmed down to chuckling mildly, wiping tears from his eyes. “Oh, what comes from the mouths of babes. The Originator, smiting his own kind! My dear child, our creator is not such a god as that. He does not punish curiosity; rather, he encourages it.” He turned to Ammy. “Littlest daughter of Dicion, I sensed the mark of the scholar in you from the start. You will thrive in your talents under the scholars in my clan, and you will soon understand the ancient texts as well as the nature of the Originator.”
Ammy, still visibly shivering from the vibrations of Akil’s laugh, nodded silently.
“What about me, Lord Akil? What am I marked with?”
“Why, your white hair gives it away, child. You are going to take your father’s place and be the leader of your own clan someday. You will bring the Elders back into balance. I sense in you a strong warrior. You have a passion that is rare to see in Icchorians so young. I am beyond impressed. You are truly your father’s daughters.” Akil smiled warmly at them, and Layrion, despite all her negative thoughts of the First Elder, decided to give him a second chance. As long as he never laughs again, she thought, we should get along just fine.
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