The Door Within: Chapter 33
Two days had passed since the celebration by the fountains—two days of the most powerful happiness Aidan had ever experienced. Some of the time Aidan spent with friends, old and new.
He went to Alleble’s armory to visit Kindle and to thank him.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Aidan had asked, a finger pointing with amused accusation.
“What, me?” Kindle replied. He held his hands up, feigning innocence.
“I saw the way you looked at me when I first saw Fury in your case! You went to Naysmithe, didn’t you? You asked him to forge Son of Fury.”
“Aye.” Kindle relented. He stared at Aidan’s breastplate. “And though I doubted it then, I see now that my course was charted by the King. For that blade served you well, m’lad.”
“It did, Kindle,” Aidan replied. “And now it rests with Captain Valithor in Mithegard. But I thank you for all that you’ve done. And, Kindle, guess what?”
“What’s that, Aidan, me boy?”
“I finally know which piece of armor goes on my head!” They both laughed long and hard, and for several hours they spoke of many other glad things.
Later Aidan went to the training yards, from place to place visiting his teachers—telling them how what they taught him was well put to use during his adventure.
He spent time too with the knights of the Elder Guard, especially Mallik and Nock. They spoke of the Timbers of Yewland and the Blackwood and of fields where untamed unicorn roamed free. They spoke of the Blue Mountains, of tall stone keeps and the doughty folk who made them, and of the quiet moors beyond.
But most of the time was spent with Gwenne, walking in Alleble’s gardens, wading in the streams at the foot of Pennath Ador, and reading the lore of Alleble’s Knights of the Dawn—of which Aidan now was one.
But there was a longing within him that he could not quite identify. His heart was content, but it felt as if there was something yet unfinished. So it was not surprising to Aidan when Gwenne appeared one late afternoon at the entrance of his chamber.
“It is time,” she said with a tear cascading down her pure white cheek. She stooped and picked up a package and brought it into the room.
“You’ll find your clothes, the clothes you wore when you came . . . all washed and mended,” Gwenne said, handing Aidan the package. “Summon me when you’ve changed.”
Aidan went into the room and reluctantly took off his armor. The sunlight sparkled off each piece as he laid them on the bed. He liked being a knight. He didn’t want to go back to being just plain Aidan. But as he put on his old jeans and his T-shirt, he realized that no matter what he wore, he was and always would be a servant of Alleble.
Aidan walked over and opened the door for Gwenne to come in. She smiled, and Aidan’s stomach churned. She led him over to the arched window where they looked out upon the sun-bathed land of Alleble. There was the courtyard where he had trained to become a knight. It looked strange and empty this time of day, and Aidan’s imagination conjured ghostly images of Glimpses dueling and sparring as they no doubt would at dawn.
Aidan’s eyes wandered out of the courtyard to the Seven Fountains and beyond The Realm’s main gate. Somewhere in the darkness was the trail that had led Aidan and Gwenne to the Grimwalk. Farther still was the dark mountain range called the Prince’s Crown where the enemy dwelt, smoldering over his losses but ever plotting new conquests. Somewhere beyond the enemy’s land lay the curling ranges of the Black Crescent where, in the caverns beneath, Falon waited. And then Mithegard was there too. Mithegard, rebuilding with stone, mortar, and hope.
Gwenne’s hand found Aidan’s. And they stood and watched as clouds drifted slowly across the quiet sky.
Gwenne let go and sat down. Tears streamed down her face. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered.
Aidan sat next to her. He didn’t want to leave either, but he knew he had to. His family was waiting. His life was waiting.
“Gwenne,” he said, “I need to go back. My mom and dad, my friend Robby, they’ve got to know—my whole world has got to know the truth. But I’ll come back.”
“You do not understand.” Gwenne choked out the words.
“What do you mean?”
“You were called here by the King,” she said. “And King Eliam rarely brings people from your home here. I know of none he’s allowed to return until . . . until you die and go to be with all who have passed into the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun.”
The news hit Aidan like a thunderclap, but the storm passed quickly. And somehow, Aidan did not feel alarmed. He knew that King Eliam had allowed he and Gwenne to become friends for a reason, and now Aidan knew that the King was allowing them to part for a reason.
“Can you visit me?” he asked.
“If the King wills it, I could visit you. But it is unlikely.”
He did not say anything to Gwenne. He reached over and lifted her chin with his hand. Then he wiped away her tears. And for a long moment, they just stared at each other. Gwenne smiled again.
“I brought you something,” Gwenne said as she stood and walked out of the chamber. “Since the Tempest took the one you brought with you into The Realm . . .”
She brought Aidan a thick bundle of scrolls, tied round with silver and blue embroidery. She handed it to Aidan.
“I’ll keep these safe,” Aidan said, and it was his turn to stifle tears.
“Our story is in there, you know,” she explained.
Aidan nodded.
“You need to open to the end,” she whispered. “When you touch the final word of the final page, you will begin your journey home.”
Aidan stood, untied the lace, and opened the scroll to the last page. But he did not touch the last word. Not yet.
“Gwenne, I was wondering,” Aidan said. “You said you never met my Glimpse.”
“That is true. I never met him. In fact, it was not until King Ravelle said he had a son that I knew if your Glimpse had even been yet born. Remember that time works differently in our world.”
“Okay,” Aidan replied, squinting, deep in thought. “But that means I do have a Glimpse out there somewhere. And he looks just like me, right?”
Gwenne smiled. “Yes and no,” she said. “Yes, your Glimpse would look just like you—though he might be older or younger. But no, your Glimpse is not out there, for a Glimpse and his twin can never meet. He has gone to your world for a time and will return to The Realm when you return to Earth.”
Aidan frowned. If Mom and Dad saw Aelic!?
But then Aidan had an even stranger thought. “So then, my Glimpse will be here again, after I leave?” he asked.
“Yes, that’s true—”
“And all the Glimpses here,” Aidan interrupted, an idea budding, “have a person just like them in my world—even you, right?”
“Yes, but why do you—”
Before she could finish the question, Aidan kissed her on the cheek. He stared at her with a sly grin and said, “I’ll see you soon!”
Gwenne looked perplexed. “But, Sir Aidan—”
Aidan held up a hand and winked at Gwenne. Then, he placed his hand upon the final word of the final page of the scroll and left Alleble, never to return until his life’s end.
PASSAGE
Aidan had once again passed beyond The Door Within, and as before, his senses were changing, transforming. He felt that peculiar movement from within, and walked again the gray road. There were voices and visions. There appeared an image of a dark army marching forth from a black castle. They carried torches that blazed violently in the wind. The torchlight became the candlelight of a large chandelier in a grand room of some kind. There in the room was a great assembly of Glimpses. Some had red eyes and some green. Before the image flickered away, it seemed to focus on a young Glimpse who was somehow familiar to Aidan. The young male Glimpse’s pale skin hid his exact identity, but he had to be someone. . . . The vision faded, and a new one replaced it. There was a young girl on a lonely tower that reached high above the clouds. But soon this image dissolved into yet another, and another after that. Aidan could not follow them, they came so fast, but suddenly, they stopped, and everything went black.
The visions and voices had disappeared. Aidan felt his senses returning to normal, and his thoughts began to organize. It was then that he realized he knew the young Glimpse he had envisioned in the elegant room. That young Glimpse was a Glimpse of Robby . . . and his eyes had been . . . red!