Aurix the Bold

If anything, Aurix’s night-haunts became worse after Brill’s telling of The Cleaving. Now instead of just seeing his mother’s agonized eyes, and hearing his father’s battle cry, he now also dreamt of thousands of bodies falling to the blood-soaked plain in pieces. He could even hear the sounds of his father choking in the blood of the dead just before he woke with silent screams on his lips.

The anger grew in Aurix over the next few days until it consumed him. He was unusually quiet, and spoke only when spoken to by Jilly and Brill. When asked what was wrong, Aurix merely shrugged and said he was lost in thought. Of course, his uncle knew where his thoughts were off to, but his aunt seemed perplexed by his sudden change in demeanor.

On the morning of the fifth day following the revelations in the smithy shed, Aurix had a particularly dark night-haunt. He spent nearly an arc sobbing and choking into his barrochi down pillow before he finally got ahold of himself enough to go for his morning walk.

Something had blazed mercilessly in Aurix since his uncle told him about the war. It was searing hot, and pained him both emotionally and physically. But he could feel something taking shape inside of him. It was like the forging of an indestructible steel blade, hammered and turned, struck and folded until sharp and deadly. He let it happen. He let his rage fuel the hearth, and it burned plenty hot.

That morning, Aurix saw Shlee begin his morning ritual. He could not hold his tongue. Instead of waiting for Shlee to complete his prayer as he usually did, Aurix stormed over to the old man’s porch and interrupted him.

“How can you pay them your respects every day, old man? Your so-called Gods did nothing to stop The Cleaving. If they ever existed at all, they’re cowards. Or they’ve long abandoned us to accept this… king? Xu’ul? That’s what they’ve left us to?”

If Shlee was surprised by Aurix’s outburst, he gave no indication. He continued his prayer as if Aurix wasn’t standing right in front of him blaspheming his faith.

“Do you hear me, Shlee? Your Gods are craven and worthless. Fakes.”

Shlee finished the rite as he did every day, his hand pressed against his bare chest while looking into the yellow dawn of Shura. Only then did he turn to Aurix. He spoke more slowly and clearly then Aurix had ever heard. “Your anger has made you rude, boy.”

A week earlier, Aurix would never have dreamt of speaking to an elder in such a way. But he was different now. He was changing. And this new steel in him would not allow him to buckle under the old man’s withering stare. He spat on the ground at Shlee’s feet. “You’re damn right I’m angry. What is the point of having Gods that would allow the merciless slaughter of nearly a hundred thousand Valerians? Of my father and mother? They didn’t deserve their fates.”

“Few ever do, Aurix, son of none. I understand your fury, boy. I do. And you’ll be still angrier when you hear the truth at the heart of the matter. But that’s more than a child like you can hear and come to accept.”

“I am not a child.”

“Aye, you are. You’ve proven it this morning with your insolence. You are not tempered yet. Only a child would barge in on a private moment and force a confrontation with a naked old man. In fact, boy, you are more a child today than you were every day before this one. Older in arcs, perhaps, but younger in here.” He tapped his head with a crooked finger. “Now get out of here, whelp, before I decide to have a chat with your uncle.”

Aurix’s cheeks warmed, partly with his anger, but mostly with shame and embarrassment. Shlee was right. He’d been raised better than his actions of the morning would suggest.

The old man’s door slammed behind him. After a minute Aurix walked home, determined to do his chores and stay out of trouble for the rest of the day.

Two days later, Aurix could contain his apology no longer. He crossed the town toward Shlee’s house with his shoulders hunched, as if burdened by a great weight. It was his favorite time of day—the sky was painted a thick, heavy orange by the shared light of both Nova and Shura, but it didn’t help to boost his subdued mood. At the door, he reached out his hand to knock, pulled it back, and reached out again before knocking with a sigh. Apologies were never fun, especially when the guilt was genuine.

Shlee opened the door after a brief moment, his wizened face impassive. “Hail, whelp.”

“Hail, Shlee. I, um…well…I came to apologize for the other morning.”

Shlee raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry I acted the way I did. My parents and aunt and uncle have taught me better. I was disrespectful to you and to them, and I regret my behavior.”

Shlee smiled. “Aye, you were a brat. But it takes a man to apologize when it isn’t asked for. Perhaps you aren’t such a child after all.”

“Brill told me about the war. I was angry. I’m still angry, I guess. But that doesn’t justify me being a braka’s ass. You didn’t deserve that.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. But I’ve had and heard plenty worse. In itself, anger isn’t a bad thing, it’s what we do with it that can sometimes get ugly.” The old man shrugged his bony shoulders. “It was a small affront. Hopefully, you’ll remember the lesson when it counts.”

Aurix nodded. “I will try. Have a good day, Shlee.” He turned and started back down the path, his shoulders raised and his back straight. He felt much better; everything seemed just a bit lighter.

“Aurix,” Shlee called.

He turned.

Shlee raised his left hand and placed it on the edge of his door. “There’s more to the story your uncle told you. Since you’ve become an adult in the last few days, perhaps you’re ready to hear it?”

“Does it matter? You said it would just make me angrier.”

“Oh, it matters. A great deal in fact.”

Aurix thought about it for a minute. He knew if he stayed, he’d be at the mercy of the crazy old coot. Then he noticed the ring on Shlee’s hand. It was small and unadorned, but the air around it moved unnaturally. It seemed to swirl, twist, and curl. When Shlee slipped his hand down the door, the shimmering air shifted with the movement. Aurix was reminded of Brill’s account of the sword that Xu’ul used in The Cleaving.

Shlee caught the direction of his gaze. “Aye, this is part of the tale,” he said, wiggling his finger.

Aurix walked back and sat down in the dirt in front of Shlee’s hut without a word. Shlee came over and sat next to him.

“What is it?” Aurix asked. He tilted his head toward the old man’s withered hand.

“When you were here the other day, you suggested maybe the Gods never existed at all. This is proof they did. They’re long gone now, but they didn’t leave us empty-handed. What do you know about the Gods?”

“Not much. I always thought they were make-believe. Harmless myths.”

Shlee cackled. “Oh, they weren’t myths. And they were hardly harmless. Hmm, where to begin…?”

Aurix had a feeling he was going to regret getting the geezer started.

Shlee held out his left hand. The disconcerting shift in the air was more apparent up close. “This is the Ring of Anaraxus. It is one of the God-Forged Relics. Eight Gods. Eight Relics. They left them for us when they went to wherever it is Gods go.”

“Flux?”

“Oh no. They’re far more powerful than any flux.”

“Show me. What does it do?”

“You’re looking at what it does, whelp. Anaraxus was the God of time. This Ring grants its wearer near-eternal longevity.”

Aurix concealed an eye roll, and considered getting up to leave, but after his apology, the last thing he wanted to do was appear rude again.

“You’re old, Shlee, sure. But I’ve seen men far older than you.”

“I doubt any of those men were 381 revolutions old,” he answered. “I look quite magnificent for my age, thanks to this little bauble, don’t you think?” He fussed with his thin tuft of hair and gave Aurix a goofy grin, showing off the large gaps between his remaining teeth.

Aurix couldn’t help but laugh. If nothing else, Shlee was entertaining. “Uh huh,” he said with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m serious, boy. I’ve lived through fourteen kings. Fifteen if you count that quat Xu’ul.”

Aurix furrowed his brow. “I don’t suppose you can prove that somehow.”

“I don’t suppose you can just take me at my word? I can tell you things about the past.”

“So could any decent bard. And how would I know any better?”

Shlee frowned. “Fine. But this is dangerous. I can only take it off for a second, so pay attention. I won’t do it a second time.”

Aurix turned to face Shlee, wondering what he was playing at.

Shlee held his left hand up in front of him. With his right hand he gripped the Ring and slid it up to the very tip of his finger. “Watch my face, boy, not the Ring. Otherwise you may miss it.”

Aurix nodded.

Shlee lifted the Ring another inch.

Aurix’s felt his expression slip from amusement to amazement to horror in the span of a single second. He watched with wide eyes as Shlee aged instantly in front of him. The wrinkles on his face deepened and sagged. His cheeks sunk. His tuft of wild white hair grew at least three inches; some fell out and blew away on the wind. In that one second, Shlee visibly aged at least five revolutions.

“What the…?”

Shlee slipped the Ring back on the finger and the rapid progression of time morphing his features stopped as suddenly as it had begun. He made a face and spat a yellowed tooth into the dirt.

Aurix looked at it, dismayed.

“Flux, my ancient butt,” Shlee said. Even his voice had changed. It was softer and a bit raspier than it had been seconds before. “When I take the Ring off, time catches up. I wouldn’t last a full minute without it.”

“You’d die?” Aurix asked.

Shlee nodded. He looked wearier than he had a moment earlier. “The Ring stretches out the wearer’s time, but time itself doesn’t change. My bones would be little more than dust in minutes.” Shlee shifted, frowned, and rubbed his knee as if it pained him.

Aurix wasn’t sure what to think. He stared at the old man waiting for the illusion to be revealed. Instead, he noticed that Shlee didn’t blink or breathe for an unusually long time. If it was flux, it was an impressive trick.

“It’s real, boy. Trust me, I feel every revolution when they catch up to me.”

Aurix felt guilty about forcing the issue. “I’m sorry.”

Shlee waved off the apology. “Eh. It’s borrowed time anyway. And now you know the Gods were real.”

Aurix’s mind reeled with so many questions he didn’t know where to start. He picked one at random. “How did you get it?”

“That’s part of the story, but it’s closer to the end than the beginning. I’ll get to it. Try again.”

“Where’d they go? The Gods? Gods live forever, why did they leave us?”

“Ha! Who says Gods live forever? I don’t know if that’s true. And does it matter anyway? They’re Gods, whelp. Who are we to question them? If they still exist, they’ve moved on. They left us with all the tools they felt we needed or deserved before they went.”

“The Cleaving? Xu’ul’s sword?”

“Ah, you’re a quick one. Yes. Xu’ul’s sword is one of the Relics. The Blade of Rhexis. God of destruction.”

Aurix felt his blood warming with anger again. “Why would they leave such a thing behind? It killed nearly 100,000 Valerians!”

“It did no such thing,” Shlee said. “If a drunken foon atop a braka tramples a little girl to death, who’s at fault? The braka? No. Xu’ul bears that blame alone. Only man could conceive of something so merciless as The Cleaving.”

“How are the Gods not to blame, Shlee?” The old man had been right, he was angrier than he’d been a few days earlier. “A braka isn’t a weapon. A sword is meant to take lives. Giving it the power to split the sky is insane.”

“Anything, boy,” Shlee corrected. “It can split anything.”

“Is that supposed to make it better somehow?” Aurix said, on the verge of shouting.

“Ours is not always to understand. Ours is to accept.”

“Aren’t they supposed to know everything? These Gods? The past and the future?”

“Omniscience, is the word,” Shlee said. “I don’t presume to know the minds of the Gods, boy. Do you? Whether or not they’re omniscient doesn’t matter either. If they were, there’s a reason they left us the Relics while knowing full well what Xu’ul would do. If not, then they can’t be blamed for the actions of a lunatic.”

“If they did know, they were cruel barbarians.”

Shlee smiled, his newly missing tooth making it even more awkward than it had been earlier. “That too is a possibility, whelp. But if there’s anything that I’ve learned in my too-long life, it is this: sometimes terrible things must happen for better things to be.”

Aurix shook his head and stared at the ground with his shoulders slumped. Tears stung his eyes and burned his nose and the back of his throat. “You said there are eight?”

“Yes. Do you know of the other Gods?”

“Some. I remember Xyp, God of speed?”

“Good. As you might guess, his Relic is a pair of boots. The Boots of Haste. The wearer can move with great swiftness, crossing miles in mere seconds.”

“Why are you telling me all this, Shlee? Does it matter?”

“It will become clear to you very soon, whelp. Keep going.”

Aurix sniffed and sighed. “Parallax. God of light.”

“Ah, yes. His Relic is incredibly special—a suit of armor that bends light. Its wearer can appear in other places or become entirely invisible. That’d be a nifty trick. Yep. Handy in battle.”

Aurix didn’t care. If anything, he was becoming more frustrated by the minute. That the Gods had created and left behind such powerful items seemed to be much more curse than blessing.

Shlee kept on, perhaps sensing Aurix’s lack of enthusiasm. “The Gauntlets of Might were left by Maximo, God of strength. Ajax forged the Shield of Invincibility. Anyone who carries it cannot be struck.”

The trickle of an idea started to crack Aurix’s anger.

“Think, Aurix. I know you’re not a foon, much as you acted like one two mornings back.”

“I am thinking. I’m thinking this is stupid. Why does any of this matter?”

Shlee ignored him and went on. “Ulixes. God of foresight and intellect. His is the Helm of Knowing. It is said to allow the wearer to know the answer to anything they wish, provided they ask the right question.”

“And Xandra?” Aurix asked, trying to speed the conversation along. He was anxious to be on his way.

“Ah, hers is the most mysterious of all of the Relics. It’s known only as the Tear. She was the Goddess of Creation, though, so some believe it holds the power to bring forth life. No one knows for sure, but it is sure to be just as powerful as all the rest.”

“Okay. There are eight Relics. You’ve got the Ring. We know Xu’ul has the sword and that he used it to kill countless people, including my parents. So?”

“The Relics were well hidden, Aurix. Spread far and wide across Valeria. Xu’ul first had to find the sword and he had no reservations using it. If you think that the Sword of Cleaving is too dangerous for us, what do you think would happen if all of the God-Forged were brought together?”

“You think Xu’ul is after the other Relics?”

“The war was four revolutions ago, boy. I’m willing to bet he already has some of the others by now. But there’s a legend about the Relics. Together, they make the wearer indomitable—a God themselves. They were never meant to belong to one being. To be in one place.”

“Uh huh,” Aurix muttered.

“You are a foon after all,” Shlee said and spat in the dirt.

“I’m not a foon,” Aurix said defensively. “I just think maybe you’re scared because you have the Ring. You figure Xu’ul will be coming for it.”

If Shlee was insulted, he didn’t show it. “This isn’t about me, boy.”

Aurix looked the old man in the eye. “Then what is it about?”

“The Nexus. It’s about the Nexus.”

Aurix was lost. He sighed. “I don’t know what that is, Shlee.”

“Of course you don’t. If you hush for a minute, I’ll tell you. The Nexus is the beginning and end of all things.”

Aurix threw up his hands, exasperated. “And?”

Shlee sighed and shook his head. “When the Gods found one another in the void, all of existence opened up before them. The Gods may be gone, boy, but the Relics still hold their great powers. The convergence of the God-Forged has the power to open up the Nexus again. Can you imagine what someone like Xu’ul will do with the entire universe at his fingertips? He could remake it or even destroy it altogether. Rule over everything. Or nothing. Perhaps he will be content to just stare into an empty darkness for all eternity.”

Aurix shivered in a sudden chill breeze. He thought that might be exactly what someone like Xu’ul would do.

Shlee stood and abruptly walked into his hut and slammed the door, signaling a strange end to a strange conversation.

Aurix realized that Shlee never did tell him where he’d gotten the Ring of Anaraxus, but he was too worn out to get the geezer started up again. That story would have to wait for another day.

Though anger came easily for the next few days, sleep did not. Aurix tossed and turned in bed. Unbidden images of the utter destruction of everything and everyone he’d ever known forced their way into his mind. He knew his imagination wasn’t capable of creating anything comparable to the reality of what might be on the horizon. It was hard enough to fathom a time before or after his time, much less a time after all time. The best he was able to summon was a hollow, nervous ache deep in his chest that seemed to squirm and twist when he thought about it—which was often.

Aurix was still a young man, but he did understand his own innate survival instinct. He understood that his life had value. There were things that only he carried with him—irreplaceable things. What would become of the few memories he still had of his parents? Without him, they would cease to even have an existence. The thought saddened him.

The ache sat like a lead weight above his stomach, writhing and clenching. It kept him constant company for the rest of the week.

On the fourth night, Aurix could not find sleep at all. He sat in the still blackness of his room, listening to his aunt’s snores through the walls. As much as she teased Brill about his snoring, she was by far the worse of the two—a secret Aurix had resolutely kept to himself over the revolutions.

He had one last internal battle. He asked himself what he thought he might be able to do about Xu’ul’s quest for the Relics. The answer was as clear as the night was long: it didn’t matter. That there were others far better equipped to challenge Xu’ul didn’t matter either if they did nothing to stand against him. Aurix had no battle skills, no flux that he could conjure, no plan—he was just a normal boy of sixteen revolutions. And yet, it didn’t matter.

The fact was that the cost of doing nothing might well be everything. And that was a price Aurix, son of none, was not willing to pay.

With his mind made up, he was finally able to drift into a sound sleep unburdened by the night-haunts.

Aurix went to Shlee a second time. The old man seemed still older than he had just five days earlier, as if time had spun on a little more quickly for him even after he’d returned the Ring to his finger. Had he been able to read Shlee’s mind, he would have seen that the old man also thought the same about him. He too, had aged in those few days.

Shlee grinned—he’d lost another tooth, Aurix saw—and invited him inside.

Aurix stepped into Shlee’s hut. It was much more sparsely decorated than his uncle’s house. It was a single room, with an overstuffed mattress and thick braka blanket in one corner and a fire pit and chimney in the center. In front of it were a wooden bench, small table, and a single, comfortable-looking chair. It was surprisingly warm inside.

Shlee offered Aurix the cushioned chair, and went to get them cups of mint water. Aurix couldn’t help but notice the old man now walked with a mild limp that he hadn’t had the last time he was here. Shlee had been willing to sacrifice teeth and pain to prove to him the Gods were real.

“Are you all right?” Aurix asked as Shlee set two cups on the table. He slid the bench over and sat gingerly with his back to the fire, facing Aurix.

“Aye. I’m fine, boy. My knee is singin’ a bit. It’s always given me a licking this time in the season, but never quite like this. To be expected with age.” He took a loud sip from his cup. “What brings you here today?” he asked, but by the look in his eye, Aurix thought he already knew.

“I have some questions.”

“Of course, you do. You’d be a foon if you didn’t.” He cackled and slapped his knee. He must have forgotten it was bothering him, because he winced, frowned and spent a minute rubbing it.

“Where’d you get the Ring?”

“Oh, forgot to tell you that, I did. It was given to me by a friend.”

“That’s some friend.”

“Yes,” Shlee said wistfully. “Yes. He was.”

Aurix waited a second for him to continue, but that seemed to be all that Shlee was going to say about it. He was more than a little frustrated at the old man’s evasion, but decided not to push his luck for now.

“But that’s not really what you want to know, is it, whelp? You need to learn to ask better questions. The ones that matter first.”

“How long does it take to get to Glynn?”

“Now we’re talkin. Hee hee! By caple, a few weeks. By braka, twice that. Afoot, twice that again. But it depends on the path. The dangers are many and some routes are safer than others. There are many towns along the way that a wise traveler should make use of for lodging and rest—and information, if they know what’s good for them.”

“Where can I find the Shield?”

Shlee pursed his lips and thought a moment, then shrugged. “That’s one way to do it I suppose.” He nodded to himself. “Yes, that could work. Unfortunately, it’s the furthest away from Dren, and that’s if Xu’ul doesn’t already possess it.”

“Where?” Aurix asked again, undeterred.

“The Grimvale. Lands of the Raspula, and very nearly as far south as one can go without a seaworthy vessel.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” Aurix said.

Shlee burst into a cackle that left him out of breath within a minute.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, the audacity of youth. You’re a brave one, whelp, but reckless. Foonish, even. You’ll need a plan. You think your uncle will just let you travel to the Grimvale? Do you even know how to get there?”

“You just said its south. I’ll leave in the night. I’ll have several arcs head start. And he won’t know where to look, unless you tell him where I’m going.”

“A few arcs won’t help you much, especially on foot. Brill will ride you down on a borrowed mount, and your hide will be redder than Nova when he’s done with you.”

“He’s not my father. He has no claim on me.”

“Perhaps not, but he does care for you. And he feels responsible for you. He’s as much a father as you have left in this world.”

Aurix remembered the promise Brill had made to his dad. Shlee was right, of course. He had no plan, and he’d need one if he were to have any hope of succeeding. Frustrated, he said, “Fine, I’ll give it some thought first, but I’m still going. As soon as possible.”

“Ha! Sit, boy. I’ve got an idea for you—if you want to hear it and will take some advice from an old codger.”

Aurix sat back down. “I’m listening.”

“Good. Tomorrow I’ll ask your uncle if he’ll allow you to accompany me to the market in Terra.”

“But Terra’s to the north!”

“Aye. It is. Almost two day’s braka ride north, as a matter of fact.”

Aurix looked blankly at him.

“A wee dense, are ya?” Shlee shook his head and sighed. “We tell your uncle that we’re riding north to Terra. Really, we’ll be riding south with a four-day head start. When we don’t show up, your uncle will ride north to look for us. By the time anyone knows any better, we’ll be long gone.”

“So you’re coming with me?”

“Of course, boy. I’m not going to let you wander off alone. There are a thousand ways to die out there. I can save you from most.” He pointed a shaky finger at Aurix. “You can save me from the rest.”