Come the morrow, Trenewynn kept his promise and prepared his departure as light dawned. Yet as he collected what small things he had and scrawled little notes in his book, There was Aia waiting for him at the chapel exit.
"I'm coming with you," she claimed.
"Aia, you cannot leave the village without its priestess. Who will hold the high noon mass if not you?"
"'Tis alright, Jane and Kathrine can both read and write– and they're responsible. I told them the order of each mass up until the next spring. That much should be plenty of time for a journey to Anor and back."
"'Tis dangerous Aia, I would not see you come to harm."
"Though it may defy your wishes, I am coming with you."
"You cannot defend yourself," said Trenewynn.
"Who says so? I can," Aia replied.
"Why must you insist so willfully? It would give me peace to know that you are here in the village, safe."
"But I am not safe there either, am I sir Trenewynn? With all that's happening in the empire, did you think I could not see the danger? No. If you intend to confront this– whatever it may be, then I wish to be there as well to see it done."
Though in his heart he worried, Trenewynn did not stop her. Bitterly he spoke, "as you wish…"
Then the two travelled down to Constantine's Road and walked the path southward into the mountains. By the time high noon had struck, they were far from the village that it could no longer be spied between the rising ridges.
At nightfall they recused themselves beside the road and Trenewynn set a campfire going. Aia looked up to the two moons in the sky, each of different sizes and colors. The Black Moon was a small thing– approximately half its sibling's size. The White Moon was pale and radiant in the dark underneath the curtain of stars.
But Trenewynn seemed less than happy in the night. Even his own shadow seemed to scare him, though he held his fear behind a taciturn manner.
Yet Aia did not miss his subtleties.
"You're afraid of the dark, sir Trenewynn?"
"Do you plan to tease me for it, Aia?"
"Not at all sir Trenewynn, I simply find it funny."
"Then you are laughing at me."
"No, I promise. I promise I'm not. 'Tis just that I never expected you to be scared of mere shadows."
"And who says they're mere shadows…" uttered Trenewynn.
"Pardon? Did you say something?"
Trenewynn shook his head, "'tis nothing. You seem quite excited though, little Aia."
"I told you already, I'm not little any more. But yes, I am a bit excited."
The fire crackled in the silence between them. After a breath came a query.
"Why are you going to Anor exactly?"
"I told you, 'tis to visit an old friend."
"But who is this friend? Surely 'tis more than a comfort call, you seek to consult someone?"
"Yes, there are things I must know about the happenings of the empire. Things only one who is politically connected could know."
Aia looked up to the two moons in the night sky. Her thoughts drifted through home and childhood.
"This is the first time I've ever left home," she said.
"'Tis not so late that you can't return, if you wish to."
She shook her head, "I would not go back, not under these stars."
Trenewynn took a stick and poked at the campfire, releasing a few trapped embers. The dim light dragged their shadows deeply across the ground.
"Oddly, I'm reminded of the old children's tale you used to read me as a girl during my lessons. The King of Want… I've never heard that story told since. T'was an original?"
"Yes t'was so," said Trenewynn, "you're not likely to find it anywhere in the records of the churches."
Aia recalled the tale and let it sing in the air.
Moon of Amos, Moon of Ka
Black Moon, White Moon in the night I saw
In the image of Gods, man was made
By the Collector Daemon beneath the shade
Ka'Sharaan, the Spider of Artifice
Possessed a nature, rather covetous
The idols He crafted to store in His vault
Offended the Gods, whom mortals exalt
In the Spider's treasury, the first man prayed
And Gods had answered, his life they saved
But the Collector Daemon, was not easily bested
And challenged the Gods to trials most tested
"We shall see who the better craftsman is
And the one who wins in this simple quiz
Shall take possession of all the land
And be the owner of the one called man"
This Ka challenged and Amos answered
The God of Forging on an anvil tempered
A Black Star to blot the night sky
While Ka wove one in the light held high
The White Moon cast a luminous mass
And the Black Moon glistened in the light like glass
But a mistake was made while Amos was forging
His hammer struck hard and broke the casing
On the Black Moon's surface, molten cracks spread
In intricate patterns, like a Spider's web
And Ka'Sharaan, who saw this folly
Mocked Amos and laughed most jolly
Before the Gods, His victory declared
But a mistake He made, Ka was not prepared
When the Gods accused Him of foul play
He stood in shock and watched them say
"The cracked moon is quaint, we like it more
The White Moon is simple, drab, a bore
You dishonest daemon, tried to deceive
You tampered with Amos, such is your greed"
From high above the Gods declared
"The winner is Amos, our judgement is clear
Graceless loser, we know your schemes
So begone we say, haunt of ugly dreams!
But Ka'Sharaan, angered and bitter
Swore to the Gods that He was no quitter
He promised that He would lead man astray
And send them back into his vault to stay
So He became a collector of souls
And on the earth, men's spirits He stole
Our children would sing of the Spider's haunt
The Collector Daemon, the King of Want.
The night grew dark and settled. Aia lingered on the last lines of the story— of the moons and of the gods.
T'was late when she finished reciting it– as according to her memory that is. Trenewynn lay recumbent near the last coals of the fire. Fast asleep and breathing softly. The moons blotted the sky. Each orb dark as obsidian and cracked by a glaring red eye, or a pale and unblemished white like a snowball drifting softly.
They turned with the stars and the trailing Comets of Caladrë. The two slept until the next daylight.
For seventeen days they travelled the pass, The sky stayed clear until the fourteenth day, when clouds began to gather.
And further and further as the two travelled, the clouds grew darker.
"It seems it will likely rain at this rate."
The mountains of Anor were high and baked by the sun each summer, causing their stone faces to take on a bleached or bone-washed appearance. Gravelly and few of foliage, they stretched for the length of a hundred thousand drakefoots moving north to south. Yet the whitish colors turned grey as a shroud of rain grew ever stronger.
Always as they moved, Trenewynn and Aia followed the arches of the Constantine Aqueduct. Trenewynn's eyes turned often behind him– sensing something.
"We should hurry our pace."
Aia's breath came heavily, the speed of their foottravels had worn her these past days onwards.
"It has been the wax and wane of daylight since we last rested, why such a hurry?"
"A dark cloud is at our backs. It makes me nervous."
Aia looked back, there had been dark clouds following for many days now. The spring mountains were full of them, rain came every season to drench the peaks and run off into streams that pool in the valleys. There was nothing so unusual about a dark cloud; Aia knew this.
After another two weeks of walking– by which the clouds had amassed to a truly fearsome curtain, Aia grew too exhausted to continue the pace.
"Enough, sir Trenewynn. I must rest. I can't continue walking any further."
Heavy breaths sagged in her dry throat. Trenewynn handed her a sac of water, to which she took hearty gulps. Aia gasped, she sank to the ground to catch her breath.
"What are we running from?"
Trenewynn looked back towards the clouds again. A downpour was blowing over from the east and north. Aia gazed at the winds and spoke.
"If we wish to avoid the rain, why not move west to the Pass of Ariel?"
"We cannot. That would take us too close to the Dark Mists."
"But we cannot outrun the southward wind, sir Trenewynn."
"No we can't."
Trenewynn stared deep into the clouds and then turned to the mountain peaks.
"We will move off the beaten path. If we take to the mountains, we may evade the danger I fear."
Aia huffed, "but I cannot walk any further right now!"
"As it happens, I have considered this…"
Trenewynn's bronze staff struck the earth, a brief white gleam moved from the rod and then earth and gravel began to rise. A sturdy steed arose out from the rocks, it neighed and nickered as if a horse of flesh and blood.
Aia stared in surprise, "what is this? A kind of Wizardry?"
"Of a sort you might say. This is Emeth: the King of Stone. He's another friend of mine."
Trenewynn brushed the rock as if t'was the sable coat of a true horse. He mounted the horse's back and reached out a hand to Aia.
"Come, this steed is well built for traversing mountains."
"But sir Trenewynn," said Aia, "I've never ridden a horse before…"
"Then 'tis a splendid time to learn, I am your teacher after all."
With trepidation she reached out, and Trenewynn seized the hand and pulled her onto the steed. The priestess was surprised to find that the stone creature's back was softer than she expected, and the balance was easier to find than at first she worried.
"Hold tight, we'll be moving fast."
Without further warning, The three took off into the mountains– galloping up high slopes and jumping from chasm to chasm as the horse ascended the mountain pass. Aia looked back to see the Road of Constantine already several leagues down below. They had long left the beaten path by the time a few seconds had passed.
Not more than an hour later did the rain fall upon them, yet the wet rocks did not impede Emeth as the stone stallion galloped through the hills.
"Look there," said Trenewynn, "those are the Dark Mists."
Between the white-bleached peaks of Anor, afar was a fog as dark as shadow. Countless nameless things lived within, creatures of the unnatural places. Malady with a voice and consciousness. It made Aia ill even to glance upon it.
"We must not take the shadowed paths. I fear them more than anything else."
Then there came a shrill neighing of many riders. The horses they carried seemed more screaming than roaring. Down below in the rain, Aia could barely discern their shrouded figures. Galloping along Constantine's Road.
"Do not look long, or they'll sense your gaze."
Her eyes darted to Trenewynn's back.
"What are they?"
"I don't know exactly… but they disgust me to even look upon. There's nothing natural about them."
The black riders chased along the main road, their horses appearing to suffer with each trot. But Trenewynn and Aia were long gone from the road. They travelled through the mountains, pushing ever further towards the city of Anor.
Through the rain they concealed their scent and ventured another month unseen. But the black riders chased as if foresight set their paths. No matter where Trenewynn and Aia ran, always the black riders would be present. No less than twenty times did Trenewynn adjust the path to avoid a confrontation. Yet it mattered not, for each time the riders found the new path and sealed it shut.
At one point there was almost a crossing between the riders and Trenewynn. Their persistence had all but encircled the prey. Yet there came a flash of neon lightning which accompanied the pouring rain. T'was that which seemed to hinder the black riders temporarily, blinding them but briefly. The small grace spared Trenewynn and Aia from a confrontation. Then, they slipped through the encirclement and fled onwards to Mount Aregashi, where sourced the Constantine Aqueduct's flow.
The young priestess from Faelenshire village felt a kind of prescience in Trenewynn's actions. T'was as if he foresaw where these black riders would come, just as they anticipated his many flights as well. The dark hunt frightened her, Aia knew nothing of the martial way. She was a priestess, not a warrior. Yet those who chased them sought blood by the look of it.
The dark ones haunted her, and always they seemed to be near. No matter how far Emeth galloped, the riders in black never ceased to follow. It left Trenewynn and Aia restless, for the sound of their pursuers was ever-present.
At Mount Aregashi– where pooled the Aregashi Lake, they again lost the black riders. At last, Trenewynn and Aia set a proper camp for the first time in two and a half months. T'was Trenewynn's suggestion they take refuge at the Old Tower of Valerius.
The ancient artifact of bygone Aurumere was carved into the mountain's peak, directly next to the Constantine Aqueduct's source. A cylindrical face of granite bricks smoothened and covered with chalk led five stories high to a conical peak. The majestic tower that once served as Aurumere's southern vigil remained timeless at a glance. Only Trenewynn's discerning eyes could spot the little cracks where ants gathered and burrowed themselves in deep.
Emeth was left by the lake to rest. For although he was made of stone, he too had been travelling a long time without rest. His hooves had become brittle, worn, and cracked. Trenewynn and Aia set themselves at the tower canopy, and he set a camp fire to warm the exhausted and cold priestess.
"Rest now Aia, you won't get another chance until we reach Anor. I will take the first night watch."
"Will the riders in black spy the fire from our position?"
"Not in the rain," he said, "their senses are strengthened in the dark. But even so, rain will still inhibit their visibility. Besides, the fire is small– no more than a few embers to warm yourself."
"What about you?"
"As I said, I'll take the first watch. Fret not, I'll not freeze from a little wind and rain."
Aia could see the dampness of the rain on his robes and in his hair. They had been riding for months with barely any rest, being chased by the black riders all the way.
"Rest, little Aia, you need it."
"I told you… I'm not— little…"
Her voice faded as strength left her body. The exhaustion all came at once, and Aia fell asleep. When this was confirmed, Trenewynn descended the tower to find Emeth by the mountain lake.
The rain was falling heavily now, it besieged the lake's surface and caused the aqueduct channel to overflow. Emeth stared at Trenewynn with two gem-like eyes.
"You've taken us far, friend. Do not work yourself to death, or I would feel quite saddened."
The stone steed sputtered and turned its head towards the lake. Under the rain and clouds the waters seemed more like pitch. A small glade had formed around the lake, yet the circle of trees were whipping in the wind now. Trenewynn's own robes flapped back and forth.
"Perhaps now I can reach Ramnicus with water scrying…"
Trenewynn approached the lake and pressed his palm to the surface of the waters until it hung just above the line. The elements continued to pelt him and splatter through the lake. Everything was chilled by it.
For thirty minutes he lay statuesque, gazing into the tumultuous waters. Then, the water boiled and he recoiled as it scalded his palm.
"It seems the resistance is still too strong in this darkness…"
Trenewynn tried again to scry many times until hours had passed and the evening had grown truly fierce. The wind now shrilled in the air and cut into the trees. Branches snapped, rocks tumbled, and still the gallop and sputters of horses persisted as the black riders searched for them. The fire had long snuffed out, unable to sustain against the storm and lightning that now crackled within the sky. That lightning which flashed between the shadowed clouds brought the only glow unto a darkened world below.
T'was one thunderous boom that awoke Aia from her respite. She rubbed the sleep from her eyelids and pulled the edges of her coat tighter to her shoulders, shivering lightly. Aia stepped to the guardwall of the tower canopy and looked out over the mountainside.
There below she saw one of the black riders in the neon flash. Its black cloak in tatters and bearing a set of ornate silver armor that had been tarnished beyond any polish or buffing. The rider wore a mask not unlike the one which the cataphracts wore, yet it was wailing instead of glaring, and the designs were more bestial than elegant.
Suddenly, their gazes met and the priestess felt cold in both body and spirit. She was frozen, and the rider drew its sword that lay beside the dark horse. Then, with a pull of the creature's reins that tugged back at the destrier's exposed flesh and blood, the beast and rider galloped up the mountain. They each rode upwards towards the Old Tower of Valerius.
Aia and Trenewynn had been discovered.
She ran across and shouted, "sir Trenewynn– sir Trenewynn they've discovered us!"
Trenewynn pulled himself from the lake and turned to see each rider ascending a different path to the peak. They all surrounded and blocked the exits, blades of tarnished silver drawn and emitting a layer of permafrost.
"Sir Trenewynn!"
"Stay in the tower Aia!"
Trenewynn turned to his stone steed and friend, "go to the entrance, keep her safe."
Emeth dashed with one stride and arrived before the entrance of the tower. In that time, the black riders took to their feet, each horse they rode paralysed by fear; they remained stationary— frozen.
Like a dark net they closed in, their blades poised to lash at Trenewynn.
Each step left frost upon the earth, chilling the grass and stones. Trenewynn's face scowled, a disgust etched his visage… These creatures were anything but natural.
"Creatures of the dark– ghosts of treachery! I know your faces though you might hide them behind these masks. I know your names! Disperse!"
With a thrum of his staff to the earth, Trenewynn appealed for a wave of light– which answered and struck the seven black knights. Each let out a dull groan from their masked faces. The sound of mortality lingered as if struggling to escape from them.
The linger of Trenewynn's light clung to each of the black knights as a kind of pale, faux flames. One shadowy warrior cleaved the light asunder and with sword in hand sought to pierce Trenewynn's chest. A parry from the rod and frost spread across it– crawling onto Trenewynn's fingers.
The wandering mentor but touched the black rider's mask and uttered a name:
"Mandrake Cullenane Drakkennide, first of his name…"
An imperceptible ripple seemed to pass through the dark knight. It recoiled and wailed, fury and hatred could be felt– smelled even, as the dark creature sank to its knees and spasmed. Pungent rust and wilted rose pervaded the creatures, with something barren cold as well– like spoiled mint.
"Grandson of Augustus Drakkennide— the first dragonslayer of the mortal races! I know your face, I know your name. You are dead– killed a thousand years ago in treachery. Begone from here, the whole lot of you!"
With another thrum of Trenewynn's staff, another pulse of light answered and struck out at each midnight ghost.
"Disperse I say— beasts of Evil! I know your faces, I know your names!"
The waters of Aregashi lake began to stir. The black knights staggered and choked on a fear which they had forgotten– or discarded. Trenewynn seized the chance to move towards Emeth.
The dark hunters did not pursue this time. Their names had rendered them craven. They ran, not caring for the flames that scorched their robes. Many simply tore the burning parts of their cloth and tossed it aside. As the wraiths fled in fear, so had the hex they placed on their horses weaken, and the beasts each grew unruly and frightful in a pantomime reflection of their masters' feebleness. Eventually the dark forces dissipated, though this gave Trenewynn little comfort.
Tiredly, he brought himself three paces before stumbling. Emeth caught his fall, and guided him to the shelter of the Old Tower of Valerius. Aia quickly ran to him.
"Sir Trenewynn! What on earth— are you alright!?"
"I'll be fine, Aia. I just need a moment."
"Sir Trenewynn, what are those things? They looked like men but…"
"Wraiths— ghosts born of an earthly attachment. There are many lost souls that never leave behind their worldly desires, but wraiths are among the most troublesome to dispel."
"You said you know their names?"
"Yes– wraiths fear neither death nor pain, for they're already beyond the gates of life. But they do fear to hear their own names and to see their own faces reflected back at them. Fortunately, I know these ones."
"How…?"
"'Tis a long story I'll not share now. We'll rest a few minutes longer, then proceed to the Aregashi River crossing. From there we should be near enough to the city to be safe."
Trenewynn performed no further feats of mystery through the day. When they took to Emeth's back again and rode down the mountain to the Anor valley, the black riders returned again– ever restless in their pursuit.
They seemed sluggish in the sunlight; weighed down by it.
"Sir Trenewynn, they remain on our tail."
"Yes, I see them. Emeth shall stop them."
The stone steed's gallop increased. With a great stride Emeth struck the bridge of the River Aregashi crossing– shattering the wood and causing the cracks of the stone steed's hooves to split.
Emeth stumbled as his legs shattered and they slid across the grass beyond the river. Trenewynn and Aia rose belatedly from the crash, the priestess grasped Trenewynn's side, holding him steady.
The broken bridge separated the three from the seven black riders.
A voice like a blade of ice in the heart pierced their ears.
"Fool Trenewynn– you work in vain."
"We shall see, fallen one. Your broken oaths shall judge you yet."
The seven drew their tarnished swords, a chill spread over the river– freezing its stream. For a moment, it seemed as if all was lost. Yet as the dark hunters struck the ice with the hooves of their black destriers, the tides born from a night of heavy rain swept down the mountain. It shattered the ice laid by the wraiths and washed upon the black riders– dragging them down to the coasts of the South Sea with uncanny surprise.
Trenewynn could not hold the relief that escaped his breath as he and Aia watched the riders fall away. The terror of the night had passed, Aia and Trenewynn looked back then upon the city yet before them.
There at the Point of Ariel, upon which rested the city of Anor amid the rays of sunlight piercing through the passing clouds. Its cut walls and tall facades brought a sense of security to the exhausted pair.