Nathaniel frowned.
“But they could just surround him on the hill instead of charging up it. Why not wait them out?”
John beamed at the question.
“Now you’re beginning to think like a lord,” he said. “And that’s exactly what Derrik did, and exactly what Sir Eldon was hoping Derrik would do. You see, just before reaching the hill, he split off what few knights he had and…”
The door to the room opened, and with a rattle of hinges, in stepped Melody Gemcroft.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked. She wore a long crimson dress, and despite the Gemcroft family crest sewn into its sleeves with golden thread, it only seemed to make Melody all the more a stranger in Nathaniel’s mind, highlighting just how unknown she was to him.
“Not at all,” John said, and Nathaniel wished he had the courage to disagree. As frustrating as his studies with John could be, he still preferred them to the lectures Melody gave him when alone. Lectures about law, order, and the gods in particular. The way Melody talked about the gods unnerved him, made him wish he could pretend neither existed. That and the dreams …
“I fail to see why Nathaniel must learn such uncivilized matters,” Melody said, crossing the room on bare feet and standing beside the table. Nathaniel felt squished between the two, an adult on either side of his chair. “Will Nathaniel one day lead men to war on the battlefield?”
“A strategic mind excels in all battlefields,” John said, “not just those in brute warfare. And though he may not believe it himself, Nathaniel here has a good mind for it, should he ever focus on the little details and stop wildly guessing when he doesn’t immediately know the answer.”
Nathaniel felt his ears turning red. He hated when adults talked about him when he was in the room. It always embarrassed him, no matter if they were praising his virtues, condemning his failures, or pitying him for his missing arm. The pity was the worst, though, always the worst.
“I should go back to my room,” Nathaniel said, and he pushed back his chair in hopes one of the two would move out of the way so he might leave. “I haven’t practiced my numbers for today.”
“Very well, we can resume this tomorrow,” said John. Nathaniel hopped down, and he hid his smile at the sudden freedom.
“Mind if an old lady walks with you?” Melody asked, and that freedom died.
“Of course,” Nathaniel said, knowing it’d be akin to suicide to deny the request, particularly in front of John. Doing so would have earned him a reaction little different from if he spit at Melody’s feet.
His grandmother offered him a hand, and he took it. Despite the veins along her hands, her fingers were still surprisingly soft and warm. Just thinking that made Nathaniel feel awkward, and he wished he were anywhere but with her. Still, he had no choice, and he walked with his head slumped and eyes cast to the floor. From his experience, acting like the carpet was the most fascinating thing ever was the best way to slide through conversations with his grandmother.
“You would do well to listen to John,” Melody said as they walked down the hall, passing by soldier after soldier keeping guard. “Even if it seems rather … unnecessary. The future is always chaotic, and the skills you end up needing may surprise you.”
“You think I will ever lead soldiers in a fight?” Nathaniel asked. It sounded stupid to his ears. Surely Melody didn’t think differently?
“Wars have caused stranger things,” Melody said. “And a war is coming; have no doubt on that. You’ve seen the visions. You know what approaches.”
Even harder now did he stare at the floor. Of course, she mentioned his visions. Why did she always have to mention the visions? Could she not see they terrified him? Could she not just let him be instead of dragging him into stupid conversations and asking stupid questions?
“I guess so,” he mumbled.
They were almost to his room now. Desperate, he silently begged that she would leave him be when he got there, but he knew she wouldn’t. She’d come to him for a reason, and just what, he’d soon discover.
“We’ll need to make preparations soon,” Melody said, making it sound no different from if they were preparing for a picnic. “Perhaps bring in some more mercenaries from the south. John’s men will help, but they won’t be enough. I fear nothing will be enough. If only we knew more of his arrival…”
They were at his room now, and he tried to let go of Melody’s hand so he could open the door, but she refused. Instead, she opened it for him, then stepped inside after.
Waiting for him on his bed were the bowl, silver chains, and various gems of the chrysarium. The very sight of it made Nathaniel’s stomach clench.
“Grandmother?” he asked.
“We need to know,” she said, walking over to the curtains and pulling them shut to darken the room. “Too many questions, too many threats to Luther’s plan. We have to know anything and everything that we can.” She turned to him. “You’ve been blessed with the sight by our beloved Karak, and such a blessing cannot go unused. It is a sin to take the gifts we’ve been given and bury them deep in the earth to remain hidden forever.”
“I don’t want to,” he said, first quietly, then louder. “I don’t want to!”
“You must!”
She reached for his shoulder, and he yanked away.
“I’ll tell Mother!” he shouted at her, and this finally seemed to make her pause. His grandmother’s eyes narrowed, and suddenly he felt very young and very alone.
“You won’t,” she said.
“Why not? I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“Because deep down, you know I’m right.” She took a single step toward him, her body shrouded in shadows due to the heavy curtains. “Because you’ve seen his face, haven’t you? Never the same, except for the eyes, those burning eyes. Even thinking about him makes you scared, doesn’t it? Well, he makes me scared, too. He’s old, as old as mankind itself, and we must prepare for his arrival. We must be ready. This city must be made righteous. It must be made faithful.”
She pointed to the chrysarium.
“Karak’s voice waits for you in the darkness. Do not deny the power of our god. The coming days are the prelude to the fated hour. This is your chance, Nathaniel. Your chance to be something special. Your chance to change the fate of the entire world.”
Every word she said put a weight on his shoulders, and he felt it settling, felt it pushing down at his resistance. Was he really so important? These visions, if Karak had chosen them for him … did it mean he was special? As special as his grandmother claimed?
“I don’t understand them,” he said.
“Just try,” she said. “And even if you do not, I and those I serve still may.”
Slowly, Nathaniel approached the chrysarium as if it were a snake that might bite him. It’d been several weeks since he last succumbed to one of the visions, at least while awake. His dreams, on the other hand, he never remembered come morning, but every time he awoke, his heart was racing, his hands shaking, his body covered with sweat. The very idea of seeing whatever it was, of whatever his mind somehow blanked out, terrified him to his very core.
His fingers touched the bowl, and he was surprised by its warmth. Swallowing down a dry lump in his throat, he leaned closer, staring into the very center of the slender bowl. Beside him, Melody began to pray, her words spidery things that made no sense to his ears. The gems rattled, glowing from their centers as if an infinitesimal fire had begun to burn within them. Melody’s words quickened, the darkness in the center of the chrysarium deepened, and then the gems lifted one by one into the air, stretching the length of their thin silver chains. Nathaniel felt himself being pulled into it, felt his mind giving in to whatever power resided within the gems and the words his grandmother spoke.
The shift was harsh, a jerk that made his very mind ache. He saw not the bowl, nor the darkness, but instead a great chasm. It seemed to go on for miles on either side of him, and the fall down was so great that the few trees growing at the far bottom looked no bigger than tiny green dots. Water flowed down there as well, a meager river that seemed almost mocked by the grand size of the chasm.