Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - The Secret Place
She slipped on the muddy ground as the arrow whizzed past her face, tracing a line of blood across her cheek, it's toxic venom creeping through the opening and beginning its race toward her heart.
"Keep running!" the eagle shouted, circling the mountain side, "You must get to the valley!"
Ingor pressed on, trying to shut out the screams of falling soldiers all around and the terrifying chants of the demon army as they broke through the line of trees at the mountain top. She was less than a mile away from the carpet of luscious grass that demarcated the valley from the muddy marshland of the mountains that surrounded it. She could make it if she didn't stop.
"Rohi!" She shrieked in agony as something sharp pierced her right rhomboid, the force of the impact sending her hurtling down the steep mountain side. She pushed herself up to a sitting position as she grappled at the object lodged in her back. A spear. Ingor closed her eyes and breathed deeply, tears mingling with dirt and blood as she tried to yank it out, screaming in agony as the shaft broke, leaving the head still inside her. She had to keep moving.
"Rohi!" she cried again as she struggled to get to her feet, "Rohi, where are you?" she called out to the Golden eagle flying somewhere high above the valley. Ingor took a few steps before her vision began to blur and her legs gave in. The poison was working now and Ingor knew that she only had a few minutes before her system shut down completely. She had to make it, she was only a few meters away from the border, she couldn't stop now.
Ingor tried again to stand, but her legs wouldn't obey her. She tried to push herself up, yelping in pain as she tried to use her wounded arm. It was completely useless now. She peered out over the blur of colours before her, weeping through gritted teeth, crawling on her hand and knees. The fall had disoriented her and she had no idea if she was still moving in the right direction, but she had to keep moving. To stop moving meant certain death. She called out one more time to her accipitridae companion, "Rohi, please help me!"
"Stand!" Rohi called back to her. His voice sounded closer than it had been.
"I can't," she cried as her thin arm gave way beneath the weight of her small body, "I can't"
"Yes, you can!" the eagle called back, "you've done all, now stand!"
Ingor wept, closing her eyes as she searched deep within her, drawing on her last reservoirs of strength as she pushed herself painfully to her feet. Her being trembled as she held herself erect for more seconds than her body could handle, then she swayed and gravity began pulling her backwards. She sighed as she let herself go. At that moment, her eyes shot open at the pain of talons piercing her shoulders as she felt her body being lifted quickly off the ground with great ease.
Rohi.
She looked up, the blur of brown and gold confirming her suspicion as she was carried across the border and further into the valley. Rohi released her and she fell forward, tumbling to a halt on the ground, a few feet away from a running stream. She lifted her head slowly, pulling herself to the water's edge and, scooping some water up in her cupped palm, drank.
The water was cold, refreshing, and Ingor could feel the effects of the poison wearing off. She drank again and her strength began to return. As her vision cleared and her bones steadied, she sat up, scooting to dip her feet in the water. She winced in pain as she stretched her arm over her shoulder, reaching for the spear head, but it was too far. She withdrew her hand, glancing over its scraped, bruised dirty surface, covered in blood from her open wounds. She needed a wash.
With her vision returned, Ingor looked around the valley, its majestic trees and colourful flowers all situated meticulously around this little stream, all radiating with life flowing from its living waters. She sighed as she turned to stare through the thinning trees close to the mountain side, to the battle beyond the border of the valley, to her comrades who were falling, dying or being taken captive by the repulsive demon army that hunted them, seeking to destroy them all.
No, she told herself, gritting her teeth in determination, she would survive, no matter what it would take. She would survive this. She would save her people and her land, and she would destroy the demon army.
She turned back to the stream, shivering as she lowered herself slowly into it. She could feel her strength growing and she smiled, drinking in the power. Rohi was right, after weeks of fierce battle, this was exactly what she needed. Where was he anyway? And how did he know about this place?
She submerged herself completely, holding her breath and counting to five, before resurfacing. Her wounded arm, though it still had the spearhead within it, was functioning now. The cut stung as a cold breeze caressed her wet face and she ran a finger over her cheek. It was closed up. She gasped as she scanned her arms, watching the wounds healing before her eyes.
"It's the healing power of the stream," Rohi's voice cut through her concentration. She looked up to see him perched on the ground close by, golden eyes beaming with an intense concentration that made her shiver. Although Ingor had seen him up close many times before, the depth and fierce determination in his eyes was one she would never get used to.
"We made it," she smiled, "we're safe."
"For now," Rohi said emotionlessly.
"For now," she agreed. He was right. Today's success didn't guarantee tomorrows. She sighed as she held her breath, submerging herself once again as she considered what tomorrow may hold, wondering how many of her comrades would make it to the end of today. She broke the water's surface, staring up at the deep red and orange sky as the sun descended, fascinated by the glorious radiance emanating from everything in the valley that it washed with its light.
"Rohi," she said to the eagle, "what is this place?"
"This stream?"
"The whole valley." She gestured to her surroundings.
He watched her intensely before speaking, "This is an Eden, a refuge, one of the few, from the demon army. It draws life from this stream and, for as far as the stream gives life, no demon can set foot there. We are safe here."
"This is the garden of Eden?" she asked as she thought about the shelter this valley could provide for her comrades. They could gather here, regroup and replenish themselves. She climbed out of the water to sit beside him. He was huge, and Ingor thought he had grown since the last time she had sat with him.
"No, it's not," he said, "it is an Eden. This is known as the secret place." Ingor nodded, pursing her lips as she tried to make sense of what she was hearing. "This stream," he tilted his head towards it as he explained, "flows with living water. The longer you stay in it, and the more you drink from it, the stronger you grow." He looked at her, golden feathers ruffling as he tilted his large beak towards the water, a gesture for her to go back in, "Keep your eyes open this time."
She sighed, crawling on all fours towards the waters edge, pausing to glance back at him, before slipping below its surface and allowing the power to flow through her. She opened her eyes and the sting of the cold water caused her to come up for air after a few seconds, turning to Rohi for some indication as to what he wanted her to learn. He was her teacher, a remarkable one, who preferred to teach his lessons more practically than theoretically. Ingor didn't particularly like this style of learning because it meant she always found herself in situations she felt inadequately prepared for, but she knew if Rohi was with her, she would always end up alright.
"What do you see?" the young eagle asked.
Ingor shrugged, "the valley? I see trees and plants and… you? Am I meant to be looking for something specific?"
"Look closer," he said, "beyond all that."
Ingor strained her eyes as she looked over the valley once more. To her surprise, she began to notice other people scattered around, drinking from the stream, reclining on the grass, sharpening their blades and checking their weapons. She watched as different people of all shapes and sizes, ages and races, entered and exited the valley.
She watched as a young man, not much older than she was, ran through the trees from one of the mountains. He was thin and pale, panting, running with a limp. He barely made it to the stream when he collapsed, landing in the water. She watched him resurface in a matter of moments, slightly stronger than he had been, but not fully replenished, then watched as he pushed himself out of the water and began running again in the direction she had come from.
Ingor panicked.
She screamed for him to stop, to not go that way, to rest a little while longer, increase his strength and prepare for the demon army he would encounter, but he kept on running, through the trees and out of the valley.
"He cannot hear you," Rohi said, both watching in horror as an arrow pierced the man's throat the moment he stepped across the border. The man shuddered, then fell back on the grass, dead. "None of them can see you," Rohi explained, "or hear you. You have a gift and the water has awoken it. You have the ability to see and know things that others can't. This is a great honour, and also a great responsibility. You have been given this sight. It seems as though most who have are meant to be messengers."
"Messengers?" Ingor asked as she watched him, noticing for the first time that his beak never moved when he spoke.
"Yes," he nodded, "a messenger. Some would like to call you a prophet, but you are not yet one. You may very well become one, if you steward your gift and walk worthy of the office, but for now, you have a gift and that comes with a responsibility."
"What responsibility?" She waded the water, enjoying the current of energy pulsing through her, "Do I have a specific task to carry out? Does it have anything to do with saving my people?"
"Because you can see," the eagle looked past her to the mountains beyond, "there will always be a temptation for you to act out, to try to influence things you ought not to, or affect them in a way you ought not to do. You will see many things that you can do nothing about, and many others that you should do nothing about. There will also be some things you will be shown in order for you to do something about. Knowing the difference is the key to successful mastery of this gift."
"I'm a little bit more confused than when you started explaining," she said sheepishly.
"Immerse yourself one more time," he said softly, "but this time, breathe in the water."
"Huh?" Ingor scratched her short crop of hair.
"Breathe it in," Rohi said.
She stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged. Rohi had brought her this far, he had to know what he was doing. She held her breath, closing her eyes and pushing herself below the surface, as deep as she could. She slowly opened her eyes, the cold water stinging like it had previously done, then a cooling sensation flowed through them. She counted to three, then let out the air in her lungs, watching the bubbles scrambling hurriedly to the surface, then she breathed in.
She let out a scream at the burning feeling as the water filled her lungs, swallowing more water as she gasped for air, drowning herself in the process.
"Relax," she could hear Rohi instructing, but she couldn't relax. She was drowning. She kicked and beat hysterically at the water around her as she tried to make it to the surface, stretching out her hand towards the pale light of twilight breaking through. She felt the cool breeze brush her fingertips as her body convulsed and she began to sink slowly, then floated. Suspended in this living water, she was dying.
She stopped struggling and let go, watching images playing before her eyes, of her past, her family and friends, of the war and the demon armies, of fire, brimstone and destruction, she watched as people walked along golden streets and the flesh melted off others as they boiled in liquid fire. Then, as suddenly as the visions began, they stopped.
Ingor stared at the darkening sky beyond the surface as voices spoke in hushed whispers, too low for her to make sense of.
"Who shall we send?" a voice rang out clearly in the midsts of the others, "Who shall be our servant? Our messenger?"
An uncomfortably long silence followed and Ingor thought the tension was tangible in the water.
The voice rang out again, this time, more earnest, "Who will go and save these people from the demon army?" Ingor watched as the images began again, people being slaughtered by the demons, families torn apart, children dying, chaos and anarchy as the people were being destroyed. Her people.
A rage bubbled up inside her, unlike any she had felt before. She wanted so badly to defeat the demon army, to destroy them. She wanted to save her people, save her world. She would go, she would save them. She would annihilate the demon army.
"Rohi," the voice spoke again, "can she drink from the silver chalice?"
Silence.
"Rohi," it came again, "can she drink from my cup?"
She watched a new image play before her, one of a young man, head bowed, kneeling at the feet of someone sitting in a great throne, someone whose feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace.
The voice rang out from the throne, beyond her vision, like the sound of rushing waters, "Rohi, is she willing to drink from my cup?"
The young man looked up, his long brown curls bouncing with the movement, "Yes, my Lord."
"Then she will be tried by fire."
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