The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

Eyes fluttered open to reveal the bluest of skies, fluffy clouds drifted on an invisible current. Lessa sat up and looked around, confused. She was in a field of wheat that shimmered like gold. It danced merrily on the same breeze that ushered the clouds through the sky.

She looked down at her body, relieved to be whole, the pain was gone. The only feelings that resided in Lessa were peace and contentment. But she couldn’t feel time passing either, despite the movement of the breeze everything felt strangely fixed. However, Lessa was not worried.

She stood, knowing someone was waiting for her.

As she spun she let her fingers drift over the soft as silk wheat. Just as she finished her circle, Lessa’s eyes found an oak tree. A man in white stood under it, his back to her.

Taking care not to trample the wheat Lessa picked her way to him.

Without turning he said, “Hello, Lessa." He sat, making himself comfortable under the tree. She wasn’t surprised this man knew her name.

She sat next to him, as comfortable as she might have been with an old friend.

Finding his eyes to be the exact shade of midnight blue as Zar's was also unsurprising. Maybe it was how he inhabited more than the space his body took. Unlike Zar, this man was ageless. He could have been twenty, but his eyes had seen many more decades than that.

“Hello,” she said back.

He nodded but said nothing and looked straight ahead into the distance. He waited patiently.

“Am I dead?” she asked. A yes would have been another expected revelation.

“In dying, a person’s soul moves from one place to another. You are in neither of those places.”

Lessa didn’t think that was much of an answer, but she felt he wanted her to work it out for herself. “I am not dead? But I’m not alive? I’m in between?”

“That is correct.” He again waited for Lessa to continue.

“Why?” Lessa asked, calmly bewildered.

“You have a choice to make Lessa.” His voice was very serious but gentle and understanding. “You are in between because you must choose one place or the other. If you choose one you will no longer be in pain. If you choose the other you will continue to suffer.”

Lessa sat quietly for several minutes. Her last memory was of an intense burning that had consumed her, she did not want to go back to that. “Where would I go if I don’t go back?”

“You may not know until you make your choice.”

“If I don’t go back what will happen to Zar and Storm, and Kathardra?”

“You already know,” the man said calmly.

The answer was not hard. “They would both be killed,” Lessa said, feeling a negative emotion for the first time since awakening. The man nodded solemnly.

“Make your choice knowing this, if you do not return, all of Kathardra will be lost, the country will eventually fall and be captured by outside forces that are already conspiring against it. Those you love will soon join you in passing. But, if you do go back you will have to endure pain that has killed others. But you will save the country from falling. It is your choice.”

She sat still for a moment, the temptation to not return to Kathardra was great. To give up, and die. Here, the mortal struggle against death seemed pointless. The pulls of the mortal world were gone, no stress, no hate, no pain, no fear. It was a blessing to be free from the shackles of the world and it seemed more of a great blessing to share this kind of peace with others.

“Who are you?” Lessa asked.

“You would know me as Lazaron’s grandfather.” His eyes did not move from the horizon as he spoke.

“You don’t look old enough to be a grandfather,” Lessa said, studying his face again.

“Looks are often deceiving,” his lips twitched slightly up.

“Grandfather.....” Lessa mumbled. “So you were the last king of Kathardra?”

“Yes,” he said, looking sad. “Through lies and deceit, I was drawn out of my kingdom where its protection could not reach me. I was then killed in the place of my wife and unborn son. Because of my actions, Kathardra was taken from its bloodline, and now I must make recompense by helping my grandson claim his rightful place on the throne.”

“How have you been helping Zar?” Lessa asked, confused.

“Gifts are given to all mankind. You have dreams of forthcoming events, Lazaron has visions.”

“So Zar has seen you?”

“I have visited him, yes.”

“Oh.”

“If you have no other questions then it is now time for you to choose." His strong gaze turned on her.

Lessa stood. “I already have. It would be easy to give up, to quit and die. But if I die now then hundreds will follow because of that choice and more would suffer. It is better for just one to suffer in the place of thousands. And if I am strong enough to be that one, then, I will be...... And Zar is there. I will always want to be where Zar is.”

The old king nodded approvingly. As Lessa turned she got the distinct sense that the old king’s approval was not explicitly for her decision.

With one last deep breath of serenity, Lessa nodded at the King. She stood and started walking. The beautiful between place faded away and she was in black again.

And she was in pain.

Lessa didn’t know where she was, she only knew pain. She felt as if her blood was boiling, burning, and blistering her veins as it coursed through them.

It was more than any person could handle. The pain drove Lessa’s mind away from herself. Her consciousness was cocooned in magma, dead to the world.

But not dead.