The Seer

  Roberto Ricci

  The Seer (The Red Harlequin #5)

  UUID: f8cbc3d8-85bb-11e8-ad6f-17532927e555

  This ebook was created with StreetLib Write

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  Table Of Contents

  Prologue

  38. A Wedding… Not

  39. A Night In Disguise

  40. The Seer

  41. The Hunt

  42. An Oath

  43. To The North

  44. Lost

  45. Found

  46. Chosen

  47. Encounter

  48. A New King

  49. A Dance Of Colors

  About The Author

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Change begins from afar.

  It’s like a new form of life.

  At first,

  you can’t understand what it is,

  nevertheless it’s there.

  It is already complete even though you do not see it.

  It is only when the transformation is finished,

  that you can look back and see where,

  in what place and time,

  it all started.

  You’ll be surprised

  to discover that

  the metamorphosis had altered you

  from the beginning,

  and only completed you at the end.

  38. A Wedding… Not

  “We are going to have an infant…”

  I vividly recall that the night air was laced with the sweet smell of jasmine flowers. Cestia and I gazed at each other with the same, confused expression on our faces. I could tell my Red princess was desperate to gauge my reaction. The flames of the torches danced inside her eyes. How could I put into words the explosion of feeling within me? The news that we were going to be parents was overwhelming, yet glorious and fulfilling at the same time. There was such a special sweetness in being able to participate in creation, that I prayed this first moment of finding out would freeze and hold us together in blissful eternity.

  “See? I told you that the night was full of promise!” It was Ewy who ended up speaking for us. The young Orange sister had made her way back to our campfire. Now she started to giggle and dance around. “You did a pygma, you did a pygma!” She gleefully cried. The pygma was a mating ceremony between Orange and Yellow chromes.

  “Ewy, please,” said Cestia, her face burning red as the torch flames, “Not every Chrome shares your… er, unusual Orange customs.”

  Nonplussed, Ewy asked: “Well then, what are the mating customs of your territory?”

  This time, I replied, “In my Black territory, we… er, we vow to spend our entire lives with someone… through a wedding.” My eyes turned to Cestia.

  “It was the same in Samaris,” Cestia confirmed.

  “Oh! Then you need to marry her and do a wedding!” Ewy crowed, clapping her hands.

  “Yes,” I agreed, speaking more softly this time, “but where I come from, before you marry someone, it is necessary to make a proposal.” As I said this, I kissed Cestia and a huge grin spread across her lovely face.

  I turned back to Ewy and knelt close to her, taking the orange pendant that was the symbol of her sisterhood in my hand. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for you, my dear Orange sister, to witness my proposal? It’s time to go to sleep and chase your dreams, otherwise the night will not turn promises into reality.” I winked at her, making her understand that I wanted to be alone with Cestia.

  Ewy, smart infant that she was, understood. “You’re right, but even Red princesses need to rest, if they are going to have healthy infants who won’t be cranky.” She returned my wink and scampered off to one of the many tents my harlequin rebel troops had pitched after our victorious battle. We were battle-weary but celebratory, for it had taken a collaboration of many different chromes to bring our collective dream to fruition: freedom and equality for chromes of every color.

  Cestia moved closer and took my hand. “I wanted to be sure before I told you; I would have liked to let you know in another way, but-” Before she could finish, I embraced her and sealed her lips with a longer kiss. I was intoxicated by her perfume and held her until she reluctantly pulled away from me so she could place her hands on my cheeks.

  “You know, I think my father would not be pleased with me. I am a princess without a kingdom. I love a chrome of a territory other than mine and now … I will be the mother of a… non-chrome…”

  “Cestia, you will be the best mother to one of the first truly free chromes. Chtomio… or rather Quadrio… could not be more proud of you!” I knelt down and said: “Marry me, Cestia. Make me the luckiest creature in the territories!”

  “Asheva… I cannot marry you, now!” she replied, downcast.

  I immediately stood up, stunned. “Why not?”

  She kissed me sweetly and said, “I love you, Asheva and want to marry you, but not now, not like this. Not while we’re still at war. To unite ourselves at this moment in time feels like just another way to escape from something bad and I… I will not run away anymore. I want to marry you, my love, in a free land, not one that is still divided. I want our infant to grow in a place of prosperity, not famine. The Red ritual of sponsali, or marriage as you Blacks call it, was… is important for a Red too; it is a choice that will last over time and that no one can dissolve. I want to honor it by fighting for it. This way, I feel that my father would be proud of me…” She looked pensive. I knew she was thinking of the Blacks and how to defeat Nomius the Eldest, the one that had ordered the murder of Quadrio.

  “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s still not the right time,” I said. I told her about my conversation with Andahar and of my resolution to return to the Black territories. Andahar, my childhood friend-turned-enemy, had come to me in secret after our last great battle in the Blue territory. Perhaps battle was not the correct term for the cold blooded slaughter we had endured. The Blacks had manipulated the Blues into setting us up with threats and false promises. They lured us into their great city of Ayas on the false pretext of a rescue mission. They then trapped us in a long alley.

  There, in the shadow of the Blue pyramid, practically all of my multi-chromed army had been massacred. The Blacks were waiting on the high walls that surrounded us and they shot their arrows, killing us like fish in a barrel. It took everything we had to turn the tide, rout our enemies and escape. Cestia and I lost many close friends, but my harlequin renegades won the support of the chastened Blues – the last territory to fall in line.

  Later, Andahar had risked his life, sneaking into our camp like a starving wolf, right in the middle of the night. Our reunion had been bitter, for we had fought against each other, not only in this battle, but another in the Orange and Yellow territories; where he almost succeeded in killing me in hand to hand combat.

  Still, for old time’s sake and an overwhelming sense of curiosity, I spared him and heard him out. What he had to say changed my entire view about the future of my former Black Nation. It seemed the Blacks had suffered too under the iron hand of their ruling eldest, Nomius. He had stretched my chrome-kin thin in his bid to conquer the territories – starving Black citizens at home and forcing his soldiers to fight and march until most of them died.

  Andahar had come around to my way of seeing things while he witnessed the brutality meted out coldly by Nomius, in the very land he had defended for so long. Now, he was ready to rebel and he sought my help – the help of a feared Harlequin. He was desperate and humble. My heart broke at the sight of him and I could not refuse. But I was determined not risk my army without secretly returning to the Black territory, on my own. I needed to assess the true state of things, first hand, so I could make an informed decision.

  Cestia listened without s
aying anything, until I finished.

  “If things are truly as bleak as this Andahar says, then why don’t you convince all the other chromes to come with you and give the Blacks the final push?”

  “You have seen how the others have reacted so far to the thought of attacking Axyum. This is no longer their war, Cestia. All the allied nations have suffered enormous losses, just like the Black, and they’re tired.”

  “But if you go alone, Asheva, you will never come back alive. Do you understand this?” She said. Her eyes filled with tears.

  I kissed her. “You were the one who predicted it would happen. You said that sooner or later we all go home. And you were right. Just like you, I don’t want an easy way out, either. I owe it to the young Asheva that grew up there: he had no faults and was dragged into this mess because others decided his fate for him. I cannot run away from my past. Indeed, I do not want to, anymore. I owe this, not just to myself, but to Chtomio and my… son.”

  She pondered my words and then she nodded in reluctant agreement.

  “It’s late. We should rest. Tomorrow morning we’ll think of a plan. I won’t let you face the Blacks alone!” She replied. “We started this war together and together we will end it!”

  I’d always admired her courage. I told her, “I couldn’t be with anyone else but you! We shall do as you say,” Then I kissed her, again, before reluctantly leaving her in the Oranges’ tent. “You will be in better company with the Orange sisters than me tonight,” I said, “I’ve got so much to think about, I’d only keep you awake with my pacing.”

  But when I’d walked back to my tent, I had already decided: I would leave that night. I had to find out if Andahar would actually deliver on what he had promised, and I had to face him alone. So I had lied to Cestia. I consoled myself that it was a lie born of love. She would understand… eventually.

  39. A Night In Disguise

  I had little time to organize myself. Doubts concerning the journey on which I was about to embark whooshed through my mind with the speed of arrows. I also thought of the infant Cestia carried in her womb. I had agreed to help Andahar before knowing about my son, but now that I knew, I was even more motivated to go back to Axyum. What son would respect a fugitive father? A son; I smiled at the thought. Part of me still couldn’t believe it. What would he be like? And what if he was a she? What would a daughter be like? One thing I knew for sure was that I did not want him or her to grow up without me and that thought alone gave me strength. Yes, I would go to Axyum and finish what I started. And there, I would also rejoin my mother. I had prayed to the gods — so strongly — hoping with all my heart that she would still be alive.

  My head was spinning, I was tired, but I could not sleep. I decided that I would leave Cestia half of a mask, carved by me. It was something that couples did in Axyum. They exchanged a simple token of their love for each other, called sortes. When the two of us met again, we would join both our sortes and our fate. And no one would be able to break either one.

  I left my tent to cut a piece of bark from an oak tree. While I was busy carving it, I almost jumped when a voice spoke behind me.

  “Mm… looks like I’m not the only one who can’t sleep tonight.” It was Danayd, standing a few feet behind me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked surprised more by the fact that I didn’t hear him coming. How long had he been there watching me?

  “I never sleep, fully, either,” he said continuing his conversation as if he hadn’t heard my question.

  “What happened to your hair?” I asked him. Even in the dark, I could see that it was no longer long and silvery but short and dark.

  “Oh, you noticed; it’s a Violet rite that helps one resist aging,” he said shrugging his shoulders. I remembered the Violets’ obsession with beauty, although their standards were quite different from the other Chromes’. Danayd lowered his voice and added: “You’re about to leave then… for Axyum.”

  “How… did you know?” I asked, astonished.

  “Knowledge is my trade; you should know that by now.”

  “Yes, I should,” I replied. “But somehow you always surprise me.”

  “Believe me, I could surprise you in many other ways,” he added, while twirling his cloak. He came closer and said: “I suppose telling you that you will die, if you go, is useless. You would still go.” He had his mask very close to my face, and his dark, piercing eyes stared into my eyes.

  “I have to,” I replied, backing off. “Axyum is my home and I need to face the Blacks once and for all.”

  “That’s what I imagined. You are indeed stubborn, my young Harlequin friend.”

  He retreated in the direction of my tent and knelt to pick something up: “That is why I came over. To bring you this.”

  He gently walked toward me, holding a cup.

  “Normally this brew would only be for Violets,” he said, “but I thought that, in your case, an exception could be made. Drink. It will give you much-needed strength for your journey.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. The journey is long and you’ll need to be at your best.” He pointed at the ground. “Come, let us sit together one last time before you leave.”

  Danayd was interfering with my plans, but I didn’t want to offend him. Perhaps his herbal brew could win over the fatigue I was beginning to feel. I took a sip and it tasted good, a mix of mountain herbs and honey. I eagerly downed more.

  In that moment, I remembered how different my first meeting with Danayd — known by the Violets as the Magnificent Monarch — had been. Our little band entered the Violet territory with the intent of gaining allies and troops for our rebel harlequin army. Cestia and I were taken to his high tower and escorted to dinner on a balcony hundreds of feet off the ground, by his lover, Thalassino.

  At first, Danayd had struck me as a remote, imposing Chrome, reluctant to join our cause. My pleas for his help had all been in vain and dinner ended with Cestia being pushed off the balcony! I was horrified to see that she was held back from death by Thalassino, who gripped her hand but continued to let her dangle over the abyss. Danayd asked me if I was willing to sacrifice Cestia in order to get him to join our cause.

  Of course, I said no, at which point Cestia wiggled out of Thalassino’s grasp. I barreled into Danayd, blinded by rage, and both of us flew over the edge. We landed by Cestia’s side in an invisible net. It turned out the entire event had been staged by Danayd to prove a point: in war, you must be willing to sacrifice anything to achieve victory. How else could a Monarch entrust the fate of his entire army to someone who would do less? How I burned with fury at him. The thought that I could have lost Cestia ripped me apart. Later, out of her sight, I wept. Not just at the thought of losing her, but because Danayd had posed a brutal question that really gave me something to think about, especially when I later lost two of my closest friends in the war…

  Since then, Danayd and I had established a cautionary friendship, because he often confounded me with his strange way of using shrewd and cold means to achieve compassionate ends.

  “Tell me, what do you remember about Axyum?” he asked as I drained the last of my cup.

  “Mm, let’ see…the smell of charcoal coming from the chimneys, the narrow alleys made of cobblestones, the Seminary… It’s as if I had left it yesterday.” I said. “You would never call us an exuberant folk, but we expressed deep ties of affection with our quiet ways and devotion to tradition.”

  “And the elders? What about them?”

  “Ah, the elders… That crooked bunch. They live in their palace, feasting on the common Chromes’ miseries…” I yawned, but I kept on talking.

  “And your friend, Andahar, what is he like?”

  “Andahar…” I repeated. “Andahar is… Andahar was a close friend. He used to be full of humor. Then, he became hard. Bitter. I don’t blame him. He’s… wait! How do you know his name?” I felt my head spin. Had Danayd spied on me?

  Danayd pretended he hadn
’t heard my question. Instead, he said: “I know very well what you are saying. Once, I had a childhood friend too. We were like brothers…”

  I wanted to ask, again, how he knew about Andahar, but I couldn’t. My tongue felt thick and furry, like moss. I continued to babble about Axyum as if it was the only thing I could do, even though I was growing ever more tired. But the more I wanted to sleep, the more my mouth wanted to speak.

  “I don’t think your tisane is having any effect on me…” I managed to say, in between the names and places that peppered my woozy commentary on the Black Nation. “I feel drowsy.”

  “Oh, I’d say it’s working quite well,” Danayd replied. He got up and removed the cup from my hands. It was only then, I realized, that I had been holding it tightly all this time as if I was paralyzed and it was my only lifeline.

  “What… are… you doing…?” The words came very slowly out of my mouth. I tried to get up but my head did not control my body anymore. I couldn’t even focus on Danayd.

  The last thing I saw was Danayd move slowly away from me. Slim and ghostly, he faded into the darkness of the night.

  –––-

  “Asheva is waking up, come!”

  I opened my eyes. Thalassino and Cestia stood above me; deeply concerned. I tried to get up, but my forehead throbbed as if a thousand horses had galloped over it.

  “What happened?” I asked, rubbing my temples.