The Pilgrim- Chapter Four

Important note(s)!

Alright, before reading on, I'd like to address a mistake I've made so far in the story. So far, I've put down "Gods" and "Spirits" as a placeholder name for the beings within the story that now go by the name of "Kindreth". So yeah, Kuri and the Boy are both Kindreth, apologies for the mistake. I've torn Gods and Spirits out of the previous Chapters, except for the line at the end of Interlude 1, where Farren refers to the boy as a God. This is very much on purpose.

Enjoy, and as always, Rip This To Shreds.  

A figure wandered along the snow-topped outcropping, outlined by churning veils of wind and ice. He dragged his left leg behind him, which stubbornly stiffened at every movement. Upon his head trailed a greasy mass of dark hair. Nearest to his scalp, silver hairs snaked among black. A faintly red cloth was tied around his forehead. His gaunt, chiselled face held silver stubble, and dark eyes held nothing further.

A soft, rhythmic humming sounded from his chest. Well, not quite his chest, but the amulet that hung there, clinging like an insect to a wall. It was of darkly glinting metal, and resembled a half-moon.

The humming continued, resounding within him like a second heartbeat. It was comforting, familiar, and yet dark, fearful. Like the thundering march of rolling storm-clouds on a day where you want nothing more than rain.

The man shielded his eyes from a particularly bitter gust of wind. He pulled his cloak around him irritably.

And continued to hunt the Kindreth.

*

In the soft moonlight, Nira remembered;

"With speed!" The voice called from the front of the carriage. Nira slipped on the shawl hurriedly, smoothing her white-cloak. Ill-fitting, she silently remarked. The carriage-wheel skidded to a halt, throwing up an audible wave of dirt. The horses whimpered, stamping their hooves.

The carriage door opened, and the world drew its breath sharply.

Suddenly, Kuri rose, shattering the memory.

"It is done".

The pool had, in the hours since the healing began, lost its red hue. Now, the child lay, soaking in the stars that rebounded from the rippling water.

Yoel sat at the edge of the clearing, head down, only raising it to take a draw from his flask. His eyes stubbornly refused to settle on the Kindreth.

Kindreth. A thousand legends told in hushed voices swirled in a consuming whirlpool. Yoel shied away from it with a sigh, placing his head between his hands.

Nira spared a worried glance for Yoel, then stood up and peered at the boy.

"He'll be all right, then?"

"Yes." The Kindreth's voice came out in a slow, patient sigh.

"Then I should like to thank-you, and---"

The Kindreth held up a hand. Veins pulsed in its pearly skin.

"Please… human sentiment holds no weight with me. I am not one too fraternise with your kind. I would not… normally reveal myself. I care not for the affairs of this Young Kin, and you may leave once he arises."

Having brought conversation to a grinding halt, Nira stood blinking for a moment.

It was Yoel who broke the silence, surprisingly.

"Then so long as we'll be waiting for him to come around, I suppose you have no qualms about answering some honest questions. He'll be… awake shortly, after all…" Yoel threw a dubious look at the very much stationary boy.

The wooden eye swerved around to regard Yoel. It is difficult to noticeably frown whilst wearing a mask, but the Kindreth managed. Then, it shrugged, and sat.

"Certainly".

Yoel sat, also, his legs crossed. He drew a breath, apparently having just used a nights-worth of courage.

"You keep saying that boy is a Kindreth."

Kuri nodded.

"Unmistakably so. A rather young one, but exceedingly strong. He has likely just reincarnated".

"But he's a boy!"

"I know not what preconceptions you humans have for Kindreth. We are a diverse race. A human is a common form for a young one to carry."

Yoel reached for his flask, then remembered the eye was watching him.

"I…" He looked to Nira for help. Nira was in the process of frowning quizzically at him.

Yoel sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Serves me right. This is all bizarre, bizarre! Every question raises another."

"What do you mean "reincarnated"?" Nira cut in.

"I forget how ignorant you humans are…" The eye climbed to meet the stars. "I will explain as best I can."

Yoel leaned forward, ready to make copious mental notes.

"This Kindreth was killed, quite recently. By what, I cannot tell. However, we Kindreth cannot die so easily. You see, each Kindreth serves a purpose. To guard a land, to prey on fear, worship, avarice. To kill, or grow. No two are the same, and yet we all possess two common traits." Kuri leaned back, relishing this attention, this respect. It stroked something in his long, clouded memory… of a time when he possessed a shrine, atop the Grey Pass….

"What would they be?" Nira asked, boldly.

For a fraction of an iota of a moment, the faintest shade of annoyance broke through the mask. It passed, and was quickly dismissed as impossible.

"The possession of Kindreth magic. Our latent energy. It comes in a thousand forms, but it can be distinctly detected by us all."

"And the second is reincarnation, I suppose?" asked Nira.

"You grasp quickly, human. Yes, reincarnation. And that, more than anything, is why this boy is in grave danger."

A shadow rolled over the glade, cutting the moon from the sky. Clouds whirled overhead, and a sheet of hail came sweeping down. Yoel gave an irritated mutter, pulling his overcoat around him. Nira tugged at her shawl.

Kuri rose.

"Sleep, now. The night grows harsh. I will do what I can".

Nira stiffened slightly.

"I do have one last question for the moment."

Kuri nodded obligingly.

"You haven't heard of any… Pyromancers? In the mountains, I mean. A group of them… I thought, seeing as you… guard these mountains…" She trailed off.

Kuri shook his head slightly. "Human affairs are no concern of mine."

Nira sighed, and lay down in the soft soil. Yoel followed suit, his back to Kuri, the pool, and the baffling unreality of the situation.

As Nira's eyes drooped, she saw Kuri rise, and lift his hand. For a moment, golden veins flared within it. She could swear the hail lessened, the clouds drifted to a halt. The stars blurred, as she plummeted through an abyss of white phantasms…

A jarring impact. Teeth slammed together, ribs groaning against the sudden force. She attempted to lift herself up. The butt end of a polearm quickly ended the attempt. The horses reared, the wagon driver was shouting. Nira clawed blindly for her stolen shawl, the stolen crest embellishing it, dirtying her stolen robes in the process.

"Your name."

The voice was cold and official.

"Nira Tama--- Goldweave!" Her words spilled over one another.

"What?" Another jab from the polearm punctuated the question.

"Goldweave! Nira Goldweave!"

Her eyes flew open. Golden helmets surrounded her, visors hooked like a vultures beak, a red cloth tied around the forehead…

"Your business!"

"P…pilgrim! Of the Ivory Church!" Even in this delirium, the well-revised cover-story spilled from her mouth with ease.

The masks were warped, now. Metal twisted, darkened. Wings tore through the air, beating at racing flames, and Nira Tamar was falling, twisting through an all-consuming, infinite darkness.

The world released its breath.

Light flooded back into the world. Morning light. The sun sent its red fingers clawing across the night-sky, ushering the darkness away. The contents of the dream trickled away, the fear remained. Breathless, Nira sat up. Her vision cleared within moments. There, the treeline, Yoel, slumped against the dull, silver bark. The pool, rippling slightly, and in its centre…

The boy rose, red-golden hair shining brightly. Two golden eyes found her.

Nira hesitated a moment, glancing at Yoel, who was deep within the confines of a troubled sleep.

"I am Nira Tamar. It's a pleasure to meet you."

And the golden crest seemed to dull slightly in the morning sunlight.