Jay - Ahern's Burden

Flog arrived in Boon three days after Jay evacuated Barclay’s family. He easily found the large mound of burned, smoldering timber and knew he was too late.

He walked around the property and flipped through some of the ashes but found nothing.

Harrow was right, he thought. This was no accident.

He walked through the garden and found one small tomato still attached to a broken vine. He plucked it off and held it to his nose to mask the burnt aroma.

From there he went to the city center, on the east side of the bridge. He tried to greet some of the people walking past but nobody would speak with him.

He saw one man pulling water from the gorge and thought he’d try his luck. The man would have to talk before he could get his water.

“Good day,” Flog said, standing back from the man.

The man turned around to see who he was but huffed in his direction before turning back to his work.

“My name is Flog,” he continued. “I am not from these parts…”

“I know,” said the man. He pulled on the last of the rope and poured his water into his two small buckets. “What brings you to Boon?”

“Doesn’t everyone come to see the famous bridge?”

“Yes,” he said, picking up his buckets and waddling away, “but you’re not anyone.”

Flog walked behind him. “May I assist you?”

“No,” the man said curtly. “Be grateful I’m speaking to you at all. Don’t bring recourse to me.”

Flog stopped and watched the man move along.

“Did you know them?”

The question stopped the man and he turned around.

“I was hoping to find a young boy and his father,” Flog said, taking a step towards him. “I mean you no harm. I only want to know what happened.”

The man looked away from Flog and dropped his head. He turned back around. “Meet me here at nightfall. Do not ask my name.”

Flog bowed as the man scooted away and he spent the rest of the afternoon admiring the view. When darkness set, he drew a pail of water and quenched his thirst.

“Are you Flog?” asked a young voice behind him.

The subtleness of the boy’s tone surprised him, but he replaced the pail before he turned around. “Yes, I am Flog.”

“My father sent me to fetch you,” he said. “My home is this way.”

Flog followed the boy into the woods. The pathway grew dark and Flog had to mind his footing against the damp moss. When the trees cleared, Flog saw the outline of a small house. The closer he came he thought it more a barn.

The boy walked up the steps and held the door open.

Flog nodded to the boy when he passed and removed his hat. He scanned the one room home while the door closed. A strong fire burned in the hearth to his left. Two fresh hides were hung to dry above the mantle. On the opposite side, a loft provided enough room for them to sleep. Underneath the loft Barclay saw the man from the gorge, peeling potato skins into a bucket.

“Come here,” the man said to his son. He put his arm around him and held him tight. “Did anyone see you?” The boy shook his head. “Good. Go warm yourself.”

The boy took off his small blanket he used for a cloak and knelt by the fire.

Flog looked at the man. “You have a fine son.”

“He takes after his mother.”

Flog saw no evidence a woman had been in the home in a long time and didn’t ask about her.

“Have you eaten today?” the man asked.

“I have not come to impose on you,” Flog said, refusing his offer.

“Aren’t we proper?” the man said, grabbing another potato. “What sort of man travels across the countryside, alone, and declines a meal when he is hungry?”

Flog felt his stomach rumble. The small tomato did little to fill him.

“My boy saw what happened at the Kist homestead,” the man said, peeling the last potato. “He will tell you what he saw while I prepare the stew. Come. Sit.”

The man stood up and walked towards the flames. He used an iron poker to swing the pot out of the fire.

His son stood and joined Flog at the table.

“Don’t ask his name,” the man directed while he chopped the potatoes into smaller pieces and dropped them into the broth.

Flog gave the boy a half smile.

The boy did not return the gesture.

“What did you see at the house?” Flog asked.

“I saw fire,” the boy answered.

“Yes,” Flog said nodding. “Did you see how the fire started?”

The boy looked to his father.

“My boy likes mushrooms,” the man began. He wiped his hand on his leg and swung the pot over the fire with the poker. “The hillside adjacent to the Kist property is covered with them this time of year.”

“Have you known the Kist family long?” Flog asked.

“My entire life,” the man said, handing Flog a small wooden spoon and bowl. “The family has lived there for generations, well at least the wife’s family. The Kists are some of the original settlers on this side of the gorge. Nuvi married Barclay years ago, and I assume she took on his name, but the property has always belonged to the Kist family.” The man walked back to the fire and paused to reflect. “Don’t know if another Kist will live there again.” He snapped out of his thought and waved to his son. “Tell him what you saw.”

“I pickin’ mushrooms when I heard someone movin’ down the path, breathin’ heavy. I watch Barclay’s son, Jay, carry Arina.”

Flog nodding, pretending he knew the people.

“I saw them go into the house and went back to collect mushrooms. The sun was goin’ down and I needed to git home.” The boy paused and looked to his father.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’ll tell him.” He picked his son up and sat him on his lap. His son laid his head on his shoulder. “He’s a strong boy, but he doesn’t like soldiers.” The man gently raised his left hand and pointed to his empty ring finger.

Flog nodded.

“Why don’t you fetch some more wood for the fire?” the man suggested. “We’ll need it to last the night.”

His son slid off his lap and put on his makeshift cloak before stepping outside.

“When my boy reached his mushrooms,” the man continued, “he heard the sounds of marching. He hid behind some rocks and watched man after man march on the path towards the Kist home. He watched them line up in a half circle and shoot fire arrows at the house. My son said they never gave a warning and he watched the house catch fire and break.

“He feared that if he ran the soldiers would see him, so he hid. Then he saw soldiers run to the back of the house and take position around three people who were not there before. He recognized Barclay and couldn’t be sure, but thought the smaller person was Jay. It was dark, and he couldn’t make out the third man. The soldiers knelt, and my son heard a shout before they released their arrows. A moment later, my son saw light come out of Jay’s hands that stopped the arrows. He said there were more than twenty and they floated in the air for a moment until they went dark. He said Barclay shoved the other man down, and then…” The man stopped and looked to the fire and then back to Flog. “Then he saw Barclay and Jay disappear.”

Flog nodded. He knew they had escaped, and now he knew Jay’s name.

“The others you tried to speak with today are afraid,” the man said. “As am I. I didn’t invite you to my home so I could be ridiculed or to escalate my son’s fears. I know my boy’s not crazy. I brought you here because I believe you can answer my questions.”

Flog held the man’s gaze until the man rose and pulled the pot out of the fire.

“No one comes around after the Idols have executed a family,” he said bluntly, walking back to the table. “Everyone is trying to distance themselves.” He grabbed the bowl in front of Flog and leaned a little closer. “But you come snooping with your fake concerns. Everyone believes Nuvi and her family dead.” He stepped away and filled Flog’s bowl with large potatoes and short, thin strips of meat. “But my son saw the boy stop arrows. He saw them disappear. I don’t know how, but my gut tells me Nuvi and Arina are safe.”

The boy came back inside, and his father closed the door with his foot while the boy dropped four big cuts of wood.

The man put Flog’s bowl in front of him. He went back to the boiling pot with his son’s bowl and filled it half-way.

His son walked to the fire and traded bowls with his father. He held it up and let the steam and aroma cover his face.

The man served himself and everyone sat around the table.

“It’s not much,” the man said, ’but it will fill you up.”

“Thank you,” Flog said.

For a moment they were quiet. The steaming meat and potatoes required a good amount of cooling before each bite.

“You’ve heard what happened,” the man said. “You are not surprised?”

Flog saw no reason to mislead him. “No, I am not. I have seen similar events during my travels.”

“How did you know of these events?”

“A friend notified me,” he explained.

They all took in a few more bites.

“Why are you here?” the man asked. “Are you here to look through the rubble and salvage what you can?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I came to warn them,” Flog said before biting into a large potato.

“You were trying to help?”

Flog nodded.

“Why?”

“Because I do not always agree with the Idols,” Flog stated, sitting back.

“We can agree on that,” the man said.

“I believe your gut is correct,” Flog said, leaning forward to cool another bite. “I believe everyone is still alive.”

“Do you know where they are?” asked the man.

“No,” Flog answered. “It may take me a while to track them down.”

Flog finished the last of his meal.

“Thank you for the food,” he said standing. “It will help me on my journey.

“Be mindful of meddling with the Idols,” warned the man. “They have a way of cutting deep.”

Flog nodded. “Thank you again. Take care of your dad.” He turned to the door and paused and came back to the boy. “I know you can’t tell anyone what you saw. Others are afraid. And it’s good to keep this secret between us. What you saw really happened. Remember it did happen.”

The man nodded to Flog, appreciative of the confidence he tried to build in his son.

Flog let himself out and found the path leading away from Boon. His tardiness cost him, but he was glad he came. He pulled his cloak tight around his shoulders before he mounted his horse and headed home.

Nuvi’s health went from bad to worse after they arrived on Taq. Barclay tried everything to reduce her fever, but nothing worked.

“Can we help?” Jay asked, with Arina beside him.

“I need you to heal her, Jay,” Barclay said. “I thought her fever would break, but she’s getting worse.

“I don’t know how,” Jay admitted. “I’ve looked through my books, but I couldn’t find anything about healing.”

“How did you heal Arina’s leg?” Barclay asked, raising his voice.

“I don’t know,” Jay stressed.

Barclay placed a cool rag on her forehead.

Arina sniffed and left.

Jay watched her run to the stairway. She didn’t like to see her father angry.

Jay thought about what he did to heal Arina. He retraced everything he did. He didn’t have or do anything special. He only took her hand and sat next to her. He looked at Barclay and turned around to follow Arina.

Outside the stiff breeze caught him by surprise. He saw Arina before she ran into the trees and went after her.

“Arina?” Jay called, when he couldn’t find her.

She did not respond.

“Arina, where are you?” he asked. He stood still and listened.

“I’m here,” she called back.

Jay followed her voice until he saw her sitting on a fallen tree. He sat next to her and they stayed quiet for a long time.

“Is my mother going to die?” Arina asked, wiping her eyes.

Jay never thought Nuvi would be sick enough to die. He assumed her cold would pass and she would be fine. He never imagined her cold would turn into a strong fever and threaten her life.

Jay didn’t answer Arina’s question. “I want to heal your mother, but I don’t know what to do. How do you think I healed your leg?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I felt the rag and you sat down next to me. You took my hand and I closed my eyes. After that the pain stopped and I felt better.”

Her summary is what Jay had replayed in his mind.

“Isn’t that how it happened?” she asked.

Jay nodded. “I felt so bad about it. I felt like your injury was my fault.”

“I told you, I tripped,” Arina reminded him.

“I know,” he said, “but at the time, I felt differently. I wanted your leg to feel better. I didn’t want you to be in pain anymore. That’s all I could think about.”

“We were thinking the same thing,” Arina said, taking his hand.

Jay looked at their fingers interlocked and said the last words he said to himself. That’s all I could think about.

The phrase reminded him of another he read a long time ago. He couldn’t recall the book, but it talked about the power of the mind and how it controls everything. “The strength of one’s mind, properly in tune, can alter rivers and move mountains.”

He repeated the events when he healed Arina’s leg and stood up.

“What’s wrong?” Arina asked, still holding his hand.

Jay looked to her and pulled her up. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’re a genius.”

Arina blushed at his forwardness and touched her cheek.

“Let’s go see your mother.”

In a hurried pace the two stepped below and came to the bedroom.

“Barclay?” Jay asked when he stood in the doorway holding a candle.

Barclay sat up. He had laid down to rest after they left. “What is it?”

“How is Nuvi?” Jay asked, walking into the room.

Barclay looked to her. “The fever won’t break.”

Jay knelt on the ground, opposite Barclay, and set the candle beside Nuvi’s head.

“What are you doing?” Barclay asked.

“May I see her hand?” Jay asked, holding his out.

Her hands were under the sheets and Jay didn’t want to remove them without Barclay’s permission.

Arina came and knelt next to her father. She put her arm around him and held him tight.

Barclay looked at his daughter and then to Jay. He leaned forward and gently rolled back the sheets until he exposed her right hand.

Jay leaned over and gingerly pulled it towards himself and closed his eyes.

Barclay replaced the covers, up to her chin.

I want your body to heal, Jay thought. I want you to be healthy again. Jay repeated the words in his mind. Barclay needs you, Arina needs you, I need you, he thought. I want your fever to go away and your body to heal.

Jay thought about opening his eyes, to see if his hands were glowing, but he kept them closed.

Barclay and Arina watched, hoping what Jay was doing would work.

Jay continued his pleas when Barclay and Arina saw the same blue glow beginning to surround their hands.

“Daddy,” Arina whispered pointing.

Barclay nodded and looked to Nuvi. Her body lost most of its rigidity and her breathing began to calm.

The glow on their hands grew stronger and Jay could feel it working, but he didn’t need to open his eyes.

After another moment, the glow faded. When Jay opened his eyes, he saw Barclay and Arina’s expressions and knew it had worked. He moved her hand back towards Nuvi and laid it on her chest.

Barclay put his lips to Nuvi’s forehead and sat back down. “Her fever has broken.”

“It worked,” Jay said under his breath.

“How?” Barclay asked.

“I thought back to when I healed Arina, and it reminded me of something I read a long time ago about the power of the mind. I didn’t put it together until I remembered what Ahern told you about me having healing powers.” Jay looked to Barclay and then to Nuvi. “I’m glad it worked.”

Nuvi began to stir and Jay stood up.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Jay said and walked out the door.

Arina watched her mother open her eyes and take in a deep breath.

“What’s wrong?” Nuvi asked when she saw Barclay and Arina crying.

“You are well,” Barclay said.

“Yes,” Nuvi answered. “My head feels sore and wet, like I’ve had a bad dream, but I feel well.”

Arina leaned forward and kissed her mother’s forehead. She leaned back and looked at her father.

“Go on,” he said, pushing her with his elbow.

She smiled back and left the room.

“Can I get you anything?” Barclay asked.

“Water.”

Arina caught up with Jay and interlocked her fingers with his.

He looked down to her and smiled. “I told you, you were a genius.”

Over the following weeks, the family settled. They were happy considering the circumstances. They were together and alive. Nuvi’s health continued to improve and she told Jay on more than one occasion how she had never felt so young and full of energy.

Barclay and Arina planted the few seeds they brought and tended them with care.

Nuvi had always wanted to fish. They didn’t eat much in Boon, but she had developed a taste for it years ago during their short stay with Jay’s parents.

Barclay wanted her to try so he constructed a fishing pole. He had to use the small amount of rope they had for the fishing line, but the real test came when they had to scale the outer rocks to get close enough to the water. Taq had no beaches, which made it difficult to cast a line, let alone find anything to grab onto when you had to pull in your catch.

Barclay almost fell into the sea on their first attempt. Nuvi almost went swimming on the next. She convinced Barclay to watch from up top, stressing that he was taking up the room she needed for balance. She never fell, but she came up empty like Barclay.

While everyone stayed busy, Jay occupied his time with Ahern’s box. He combed through each of his books, searching for reference of bonds and what an eternal bond could mean. The box filled his thoughts while he was awake and crowded his dreams while he slept.

None of his books helped and he knew he had to figure it out on his own. He spent hours every day staring at the box, hoping something would happen.

One day, Jay was running his fingers over the decorative trim and noticed the corner pieces would move if he pressed on their opposite counterparts simultaneously. He rotated his hands around the box’s edge, keeping them across from each other. At the corners and at the center points, the trim would shimmer when he pressed down.

When he repeated this on the upper left and lower right corners, two pieces in the center backed away from the center stone. He moved his left hand down the left side and his right up. He pressed on the mid points and saw more pieces back away. Excited, he moved his hands to the upper right and lower left and pressed to see two more pieces pull away from the stone. Finally, he moved to the top and bottom center and pressed. The final two pieces backed away. With the last pieces out of the way, the stone raised and slowly turned over.

The underside was convex, and Jay ran his finger over the top. He applied a little pressure and felt it give. He pushed harder and it moved down until he hit resistance, at the depth of first knuckle on his finger. He let it go and it came up to its original position. He pushed on it again and hit the same obstacle and watched it slowly move back into place. The third time he pushed harder when he hit the resistance and felt a small prick on his finger. He yanked his hand to see a tiny drop of blood smeared at the tip. Jay watched the stone flip back over and the decorative trim pop off at different points. The center-piece stayed intact, but the top of the box split into four pieces.

The box opened like a flower. It stopped when the edges were flat on the desk and the top pieces stood vertically. The inside of the tops grew in thickness as they reached the base and three of the sides contained large illuminated purple stones.

The box was empty except for the center stone.

On the piece without a purple stone Jay saw a dark ring. He leaned close to get a better look when a gray fog flowed out of the stones and began circling around the center stone. Jay sat back, transfixed at what he saw.

“Barclay!”

Barclay didn’t answer.

“He’s up top with my mother,” Arina said from the next room.

“Will you ask him to come here right away?” Jay pleaded.

“Yes,” Arina said. She went up the stairs not knowing why, but sensed Jay’s urgency.

Jay watched the fog swirl around and then fall to the bottom before it dissipated. As the fog lowered, Jay saw the top of a small, illuminated figure. The farther down the fog moved the more Jay saw it representing a man, standing still in flowing robes.

When the fog dissipated the figure removed his hood and turned towards Jay.

Barclay came down the stairs and stood on the doorway. “What is it?”

He saw the opened box when he finished his question and moved inside. “You opened the box?”

Jay nodded. “Is this Ahern?” He knew Barclay had met him and wanted to know for sure.

“Is what Ahern?” Barclay asked.

“The small person standing in the middle,” Jay said, “right there.” Jay pointed to where Ahern’s figure floated.

“I don’t see anything but the box,” Barclay said. “How did you open it?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Jay said. “After I opened the box, a fog came from the sides and spiraled around the center. It grew above the book and then it fell away like fog running off a rock. As it fell, this figure took its place. The image is wearing a pointed hood and floating above the stone here.” Jay pointed to add to his description. “When the cloud vanished, the image started to move.”

“I don’t see an image, Jay,” Barclay said.

“Good day to you,” said the small figure.

“He’s talking,” Jay said. “He just said good day.”

Barclay took a seat beside Jay.

“My name is Ahern.”

“Ahern!” Jay yelled.

“You have come a long way and suffered much heart ache, but today marks the beginning of your journey.”

“Is he still talking to you?” Barclay asked.

“I am sure, more than anything, that Barclay is at your side,” Ahern continued. “Tell him he will not hear or see anything I do or say. This message is designed for you and you alone.”

“He told me to tell you,” Jay said turning to Barclay, “that you won’t be able to hear or see anything he’s doing.”

Arina and Nuvi entered the room.

“I made this spell from a single hair of each your parents,” Ahern said. “It would be impossible for other individuals to hear what I will speak to you. The blood was the bond, the eternal bond between you and your parents.

“Before I begin,” Ahern said, raising his hand, “I want you to understand one important piece.” Ahern lowered his hand and took in a breath. “The choice you make today will be your own. I will not force your hand. The decision to continue, to seek me out, will demand sacrifice. If you accept, you must follow my instructions. The slightest deviation, and you will fail. The choice is yours. If your mind is right and your heart pure, I will teach you ways to release your potential, and you will be a beacon for this struggling world.

“The Idols are dangerous and have grown too strong for me to control or disrupt. They seek my life and those who would support me. They desire me to disclose one final piece of delicate information, one final spell. They must never discover what they seek. Our advantage is that they are untrained, and do not understand. I fear they believe you know the location of a sacred artifact. I know you do not, and I regret allowing them to presume otherwise.

“The artifact they seek is the Garrison of Fage, an ancient relic with the ability to grant immortality. They will do everything within their power to destroy the lives of those who withhold this information.

“I need your help, Jay, to restore balance. I would not ask if I could do it on my own. If you wish to help me, you only need to place the ring on your finger.” Ahern’s image turned halfway and pointed to the ring. “If you do not wish to help, you need only close the box and I will bid you farewell. The choice is up to you.”

Ahern’s figure replaced the hood and brought the tips of his fingers together, resting at his waist. He stood motionless, waiting for Jay to make his decision.

Jay thought to look at Barclay and ask his opinion, but Ahern was right, this was his decision and he needed to make it on his own. He wanted to help, and he wanted to experience his potential. But most importantly, if he stopped, he would never know what happened to his parents, whether they were dead or alive. He had to do this.

Jay reached across the box, around Ahern’s ghostly figure. He removed the ring and brought it close to inspect. The craftsmanship of the dark gray metal was beautiful. It looked hollow and intertwined with hundreds of tiny clovers. The top held no stone but continued the intricate pattern.

He put the ring on his right index finger.

Everyone in the room stayed quiet. They watched the ring glow dark purple. The color’s intensity grew until they had to cover their eyes.

When the light stopped, Ahern removed his hood.

“Thank you, Jay,” Ahern said. “In order for you to find me, you will need to locate the following three individuals.”

Jay hurried to grab a nearby quill and ink. He grabbed a random book off the shelf and turned to the first blank page.

“The first is a logger,” Ahern continued, “he goes by the name of Allon. You will find him amongst the trees in the Renair Forest. He will lead you to a baker named Quinn. She lives in Dek, where the Great Plains meet the Fonkor Desert. The third is a fish monger named Kel. He sails the deep waters of the Crystal Sea, north of the Chaldrian city Etheral.

“They will lead you to each other and then to me. All three know of the decision you have made.”

Jay finished writing down the instructions.

Barclay read them over his shoulder.

“I look forward to meeting you,” Ahern said. “I know you have questions and we have much to talk about, but until we meet, young Master Plough. Take care until that day.”

The fog returned from the stones and swirled around Ahern’s ghostly figure. It repeated the identical motion as before, but this time, Ahern’s image was gone when it dissipated.

Jay didn’t know what to do. He looked at the others and then to his ring. Behind his hand he saw the box close and lock.