The Mirror of the Moon (Revenant Wyrd Book 2) Read online

  “You will all remember from history lessons that Aaridnay was the first sorceress to grace the Great Realms, or at least the first sorceress we humans knew of? Well Aaridnay had set up a system of teaching which Pharoh did not seem to think was right at all. Aaridnay’s teachings, she told us, were adequate, but not complete. A sorcerer was much more than what Aaridnay had believed, and being such they could do much more than they had previously been taught. In essence, Pharoh told us, a sorcerer could do anything they set their minds to. Not being a sorcerer, I was never part of the lessons.

  “There was one, however, that was able to follow the lessons perfectly. She was the first person, other than my sisters and I, to became one of the twin’s followers. Her name was Porillon. She was an apt pupil, excelling in everything Pharoh taught her.

  “Pharoh and Sylvie taught people about wyrd and sword craft, but it was not in an attempt to wage war with other humans; instead it was to educate them in defense and the proper ways of eliminating dalua.”

  Grace took a moment to refill her pipe, which had grown cold. After lighting it once more, and taking another drink of her palisum, she resumed her story.

  “It was during this time, their pilgrimage as they called it, that we ventured back into the Shadow’s Grove, this time not to find a place dense with foliage and undergrowth, but instead to stumble into a clearing as large as Meedesville. In this clearing there stood a variety of rundown, ragged looking buildings. A large keep stood in the back, built into what looked to be mountains, though I don’t understand how mountains came to be there unless they traveled around with the Shadow’s Grove. This keep Pharoh claimed for herself calling it the Sorcerer’s Keep. Sylvie chose a domed building in the center of the large lake naming it the Protector’s Hall. Other buildings stood around the clearing, and they were all connected by wooded walkways. In the very center, what we began to call the courtyard, stood a large wooden building that in very many respects resembled a tavern. One of the followers, though I forget her name now, suggested it be called The Haven, for that is what this clearing really was—a haven.

  “The Shadow’s Grove was a very strange place, and we never found out where this establishment came from. It was uncertain whether the buildings had always been there waiting to be discovered or if they had suddenly appeared responding to some unknown need or wyrd.

  “Pharoh and Sylvie alluded the land and the Mother were providing them with a gift, but that statement was just as curious as the grove. It could mean the buildings appeared there only moments before our arrival to give us all shelter, or the gift the land and the Mother had given was the revelation of this rundown habitation in an undiscovered part of the Shadows Grove.

  “In time Pharoh and Sylvie were named the Keepers of the Shadow’s Grove. This was much like being named a Realm Guardian, though the responsibilities were much greater seeing how this place was now claimed as hollowed ground by the twins.

  “There was more traveling and more teachings, but before long Pharoh met a very nice man whom she soon fell in love with. History books tell us that Arael gained Pharoh’s love using the old name of Iblis, a name that many did not remember being that it was so old. They also tell us he won her love through charm and courtship.”

  Angelica remembered reading about this once, and the details soon came together in her mind. Pharoh had become so enamored with Arael that she gave little thought to the teachings and the slaying of dalua she was originally sent to do. While Pharoh’s sister noticed this, Sylvie figured Pharoh would come around in the end, and that she would do what was right, and needed to be done. Grace’s next words finished where Angelica’s textbooks left off.

  “While the sisters normally had good judgment, it wasn’t so this time. Pharoh never resumed her teachings of the Goddess, though all of her teachings so far had been written down in books and scrolls.” Grace gestured to Joya. “In fact, the book you carry was one of the first ever written and all that Pharoh had to teach was transferred into those books. This shows you why only some of it can be read at certain times. The reason is simple concepts must be grasped before the complexity of others can be fathomed. There are still passages in that book my sister herself cannot read.

  “Pharoh never came back to the task, but Sylvie had never given it up. Many speculated, in the end, it was that which saved Sylvie while Pharoh died: Sylvie remained true to the Goddess, Pharoh did not.

  “Porillon, it turned out, was not only devoted to Pharoh and Sylvie, or I should say that she was not devoted to them at all. She was, and still remains to this day, a deeply devoted Alarist.”

  The silence following Grace’s statement penetrated the room.

  “Wait a minute,” Angelica said, drawing all attention to herself. “I have only heard of Alarism a couple times before, and then only in passing. Isn’t that a Chaotic religion?”

  “Alarism is the religion that Arael started. It is an affront to the Goddess, and smacks in the face of all things holy and good in this world. You are a very bright woman, Angelica, for Alarism is not something often spoken or written of.

  “It is also very interesting that Porillon used a golem to attack us. They literally are ‘humans of clay.’ That which was the first human was thought to have been a golem, and all of us descended from her. The idea that Porillon is creating them to kill us almost seems an affront to both religions—Alarism because Arael so hated the first human, and the Goddess because Porillon is using the Mother’s first creation to attack the descendants of the first human.”

  “No one is sure why she turned over to Arael’s side, though it has been said she was jealous of me and the way Pharoh and Sylvie treated me.

  “Arael had thirteen disciples, two of which he trusted above all others. One you all know was Samazahd, also a Grigori, and Porillon, who was the only human among his dark disciples. Now, you can all imagine she must have been exceedingly rare for him to take her to his side seeing how he was cast out of the Ever After because of his abhorred dislike of ‘humans of clay.’ No one really knows why he trusted Porillon so much. It could be he feared her talents, or that he was secretly in love with her. Rest assured, however, he did not take her to his side because of respect. Arael respected no one but himself.

  “There is one other reason, besides her markings, that I entertain the possibility Porillon is the Mask. She was once an advisor of Pharoh and Sylvie themselves. She turned out, in the end, to be nothing more than a spy for Arael. For this reason I always thought she could be the Mask. The markings on her face only prove my point more, as if time and wyrd are working together to show her true identity.

  “Now no one knew that Pharoh was pregnant with Arael’s child. I don’t think even Pharoh herself knew for some time until after it happened, but that is just my guess. In time she gave birth to a beautiful daughter which she named Cianna. The only problem was Cianna was born dead. Pharoh insisted, however, that this was as should be because Cianna would awaken to consciousness when Pharoh died.

  “This unsettled many of us, for it told us something we had never before entertained the idea of: Pharoh intended on dying.

  “That happened sooner than all of us thought.”

  They knew a little about where the story led from here. Pharoh was betrayed by the man she loved and was slain at the very top of the Ivory Tower. Their history books gave few details, however, and it seemed that Grace would be giving even less about the circumstances.

  Grace’s voice had taken on a hollow tone as she spoke: “I knew the instant she had been killed, for the three of us had a bond so strong we often knew when the others were in distress. Of course it came as a great shock to all of us that Arael would have killed Pharoh; after all, they had just had a baby.

  “Interestingly enough, Cianna came to life the moment Pharoh died, just as Pharoh predicted. Cianna screamed and cried like nothing we had ever heard before, and it was apparent she was privy to thoughts and memories of her mother’s death. Cianna was possessed
of a consciousness more advanced than any her age, and something of her mother’s mind seemed to linger within her. Such an awakening of a dead baby the moment the mother died is, as we all know, a mark of the necromancer. In fact, it is this very necromantic gift that her daughter, Cianna, possessed which suspended Pharoh between the world of the living and the world of the dead. That bit of her mother that was passed onto her, that brought her to being, was the same thread the strong necromancy in Cianna clung to and twisted, forcing it to take root in something physical. Cianna refused to let her mother die.

  “The sorceress knew this would happen. By stating that fact the evening before she died, she had given Sylvie an object in which her soul, her essence, would be stored upon her death. She had counted on her daughter’s gift to react the way it did. If Cianna’s wyrd had not done its part and suspended Pharoh’s soul in the required object, then all might have been lost.

  “See, Pharoh understood she had done wrong by the Goddess. She was not sure what she had done, but I am convinced in time she came to understand her wrongdoing lay in turning away from her task. So it was that she came to believe the Goddess had turned her back on her.

  “Pharoh needed no more convincing of this fact the night her love murdered her. I am sure to her it felt like the Goddess took retribution on Pharoh for her ineptitude in completing her assigned task.”

  Everyone in the room knew what happened next, for all the books revealed that Sylvie picked up her sister’s shin-buto and slew Arael. Documents told that his dying was marked by a great storm, which some speculated could also have been the Goddess’s fury at the people of the Great Realms who let Chaos in so far that one of her chosen daughter’s would be killed. Thus, as a result, the world split. When the next day dawned, it was not only marked with great sorrow for the passing of Pharoh LaFaye, but it was also marred by the horror of what had happened to the once Great Realms. The Realm of Spirit was lost forever.

  Grace took a long drink of her palisum liquor, her voice still sounding heavy with ghosts of her past. Tears stood in her water blue eyes, but they refused to fall, refused to dampen her cheeks.

  “So it was, after Pharoh had died and given her sister the essence of her soul, that Sylvie found the love she never thought she would. Understand that Sylvie was not seeking love. No, she was very much the warrior and the protector. It nearly killed her when Pharoh died, and she roved the lands hunting dalua. She had stopped teaching the ways of the Goddess, and instead she struck out on her own personal task: vendetta. She hunted down all the dalua she could and utterly destroyed them. This began with the rest of the grigori. The death she brought them was horrible, painful, and absolute. Sylvie killed them with a coldness none had seen her possess before. She was like death’s sweet scythe, slicing through the masses of dalua she found. In fact, she hunted so long and so resolutely it appeared there would be no dalua left in all the Great Realms. She rained down fury on all that opposed her. Sylvie was haunted by Pharoh’s death and that was the fever which steeled her and dampened her sword with the blood of Chaos. She fought alone. It was evident she reserved the pleasure of genocide for herself alone, and would not let any of the Shadow’s Grove accompany her. We had to kill on our own missions. Sylvie thought this would be the course of her life until the time the Goddess called her home.

  “She was wrong.

  “Sylvie fell in love and was married. It was not long after that when she became pregnant, and to protect her family from Chaos, she changed her name. See, after Sylvie stopped hunting the dalua, they came back. There was no way she could kill all of them. When some died, more came to take their place. They are like a sickness that you can never be rid of.”

  Jovian scoffed “With all she had done, Sylvie didn’t think she could protect her own family?”

  Grace raised her eyebrows taking an absent-minded puff on her pipe. Joya, however, had another question brewing, a question that made her mouth hang open in revelation.

  “What did she change her name to?” she whispered.

  “She changed her name to Misha; the man she married gave her the surname of Neferis.” Grace looked around at the stunned, silent three who sat around her. They all wore a similar expression of dumbfounded understanding.

  That was the name of their mother.

  “’We are no ordinary family,’” Jovian quoted Porillon.

  “Indeed you are not.” Grace conceded. “Now there is still more to be revealed. I can understand that all of you are very anxious to know all you can, but let me finish with my telling before you go on with all that.” Grace waited for them to nod, but it never happened for they all stared in shocked disbelief at the old woman.

  “I will tell you next of what happened to Cianna, for she is rightfully your cousin and your elder by twelve years. After she was found alive, she was taken to live with my sisters Sara and Annbell in the Realm of Earth. We figured this would be a safe place for her to live. We also figured she should not go to live with Sylvie for she was much the traveler until she met Dauin. It is there Cianna matured into a bright individual, looking for all the world like a replica of her mother Pharoh. The shin-buto that Sylvie used on Arael—”

  Suddenly Jovian came to life and looked at the sheathed blade in his hands.“No, child, you do not possess that blade. The one you carry is rightfully your mother’s, but it was misplaced the night they fought Arael. Later she found it, and its legacy was great among the heroic legends passed down by bards. Know that the blade you possess is a worthy relic being the one she killed countless dalua with, but it is not the same as the one your mother used to slay Arael.

  “Anyway, the shin-buto Sylvie used on him, Pharoh’s shin-buto, was lost, some think forever, but I have my suspicions that it is around the Great Realms somewhere. Who knows though; maybe it was lost when Spirit was.

  “Now for yet another revelation, the item in which your Aunt Pharoh’s essence was stored was none other than the medallion that went missing the night Amber was abducted.”

  There was a collective intake of breath, and Grace was slightly pleased to get such a response. She felt as though she should bow or flourish her wrappings. She did neither, for in the state the palisum was putting her in, the old woman doubted very much she would be able to stand without assistance, let alone flourish.

  “Now can you understand why your father desires its retrieval so much? It is a dangerous artifact in inept hands, let alone in hands as talented as Porillon’s are. She knows what that medallion is, and she would inevitably be able to cause great devastation with it. Know that Pharoh had control over how the medallion came into this world; she even had slight control over how it was used. After all, she gave it to her sister for safekeeping. But much like a genii, the medallion answers to the one who holds it, and it does what the holder commands.”

  Joya frowned. “But why’d Pharoh make it that way? Why’d she have make it so the medallion could be controlled in ways she didn’t want? Why would she give up her control over what she was asked to do?”

  “I am not sure. I don’t think your aunt intended for it to fall into the wrong hands, but someone as smart as Pharoh must have seen the potential for such a thing, and would undoubtedly have set up precautions. General consensus says that one from her holy bloodline must be in possession of it to operate the wyrd it holds, but this has never been tested. The truth is I don’t know why it does whatever the holder asks. It could really be a number of reasons. It could be that it is the wyrd of Pharoh trapped in the medallion, not her conscience, and whoever holds the necklace is imbued with her power, or it could be the medallion is infused with the wearer’s desires, and so the one who controls it also controls the medallion’s wants.” Grace spread her hands out to her side.

  “Or it could possibly be the working of the spirit world that we do not understand. The most likely case is that something went wrong when Pharoh transferred her essence into the medallion. Remember that Cianna was the key for holding her mother here i
n the world of the living. This means the conditions in which Pharoh stayed here were dependent on Cianna’s desires.”

  “How could Cianna have desired anything? She was an infant,” Jovian pointed out.

  “That may have been so, but even as an infant she possessed enough power to hold a soul back from the Ever After and keep it here in the Great Realms. This was an infant that had only a fraction of her intended power, as she had not yet matured, and yet she still had the power to hold a fully developed soul back from the Darkest Hour.” Grace bit the stem of her pipe and watched them as smoke drifted toward the ceiling.

  “That’s powerful,” Joya agreed.

  “Of course it is. Would you expect the daughter of Arael and Pharoh to be anything other than powerful? At any rate, no matter the reason for the medallion acting on the whim of the holder; it was originally intended to be a tool for learning. It was meant to teach Sylvie’s child, or in this case children.”

  “Why wouldn’t Pharoh want it to teach Cianna?” Jovian asked.

  “Necromancers have their own training, their own guides and teachers. Not to mention that was a power Pharoh never possessed. How could she teach her daughter to use a power she never controlled? No, Pharoh was the greatest sorceress the Great Realms ever saw. She knew Sylvie would give birth to a sorcerer, and she intended to be that child’s teacher.”

  “But why? Why would she need to teach someone her ways if she thought all the Chaos had been, or would be, wiped clean of the Great Realms?” Joya asked.

  Grace laughed. “Joya, only a fool would ever think Chaos could be wiped clean of a place. She wanted someone to carry on her legacy, return to the teachings of the Goddess, pick up where she left off, and lead the sorcerers to come. She knew she was going to die. As I said before, Pharoh intended on dying. If she was going to die, she knew someone else would have to pick up where she left off, keep the tradition of wyrd alive, and guide those souls that sought guidance through the mysteries.”