Book 1 Chapter 14: Translation

Vero quietly walked past the clergy that appeared more frequently. All the church knew was that Ylva had begun some intense studies and didn’t wish to be disturbed, but they hadn’t located her yet. It would only be a matter of time, but every day counted. Once they found out, they would pressure the Master for access to the archive, and that was something that they didn’t want to give. Not just for Ylva’s sake, but also for the recent work they had begun.

That old book had talked about how there was a cult that seemed to worship Amarok. If their conjecture was correct. Amarok had disbanded and discouraged it, as Veles was his god and he didn’t like the doctrine that this group kept twisting. He was like a prophet of sorts and kept redirecting people to worship Veles. Apparently the deity had appeared before him a handful of times and gave him and his seven followers dark weapons to slay curses and the dark one. But it had failed until a human had demanded to wield the dark sword. If only he didn’t have more responsibilities making sure the staff were working. Vero could read for hours. At this rate, Ylva would finish translating before he could keep up with her recent transcription.

Her understanding of the old tongue was an understatement. She was quite fluent with it. Even picking up on subtle messages. Her Master was apparently more fluent than her so she had assumed she wasn’t proficient. Every once in a while she would get stumped on a passage, leading Vero to hope he could catch up.

What impressed him even more was that she skipped her training. Well… she skipped going to the training grounds since the clergy seemed to frequent there. They were getting more persistent now. And it had only been two months since she had taken up the project. Master Filtiarn had approved of the project, but even he was finding it a headache managing the clergy’s persistence and his own work. Some of the neighboring human provinces were causing a fuss with one another and as the head nation that had unified them a few human generations back, it was the Ulrikas who governed over them. Vero suspected the church had stirred them up. It wouldn’t be the first time. But then, sometimes humans were just fickle and changed beliefs often.

With bowed head, Vero walked past. He noted the swish of the tail with one of the clergy and he sped up. That was a sign that they would drop something and engage in conversation. He rounded a corner and picked up even more speed as he heard them speak behind him.

Feeling he had just dodged a hassle, he sped up to the archive and retrieved his key. He unlocked it and found Ylva looking at him. When she recognized him she returned to her work and he locked the door behind him. The candle was already lit due to the windows facing to the rising sun rather than the evening sun.

Vero grabbed another candle and lit it with the fire form hers. He took the partially used one and grabbed some of the new translations. He found a comfortable place to rest and placed the candle next to the work. He began reading and hummed as he read about the human who impressed Amarok.

This man had lost everything to the great dark and swore vengeance. Veles had warned Amarok against the man but after years, the man calmed and asked to only bear the sword in it’s sheath. His humble words impressed Amarok and he became the sword bearer until Veles chose a new wielder.

The way Amarok talked about Veles, it was if he was close to the mortals, but with powers and restrictions that made him seem like some divine being. Below him were creatures called Ancients as they outlived any race on the world. Amarok talked of other creatures beside the Yowlume and about the powers each race was gifted with by Veles. Vero wondered if he was reading some sort of fantasy or if these happened. The way it was worded led him to believe this was history, but it had to be forgotten knowledge at the very least as no one used these powers.

Vero read on into the night, leaning about the great dark and the constant wars they had with it and its creations. It seemed like a tale of heroics, purely fictional.

He heard Ylva pause and looked over at her workspace. She seemed white, pasty even. His curiosity peaked and he rose from his chair. Ylva placed her hand over her eye and then rested her chin on it. He walked over and peeked over her shoulder to where her eyes gazed. It was a page similar to the one he had seen in that vision like dream. Her ears flicked back and she registered he was behind. She looked back and then pushed back her chair and rose to climb into her favorite window. Vero noticed some food on one of the tables and walked over. It would be pointless to muse over her reaction. He couldn’t read the book. Even skimming through, he had never seen the passage again. He was begining to wonder if he had dreamed it up.

“Mi Lady?” he asked as he walked over. She was staring out the window, sitting comfortably inside the frame.

“Vero, do you recall the attack?” she asked. Vero waited. He would let her complete her thoughts.

The silence began to stretch before he sighed. She looked at him from the corner of her gaze in a way that sent a slight shiver up his spine. She stood suddenly and walked past him and looked at the book. She wrote a few things down and handed him the paper. Vero looked at her confused and she indicated to look at the paper. He cast his gaze down and froze.

In those days, his chosen one will be attacked and rendered unconscious. Only through the Hand of Veles who brought the second to him will he be able to stay the grip of death, and live to see this great work done.

Vero read it over and over again. Second? What was this about chosen? Surely Ylva didn’t think this had to do with him. They heard some noise at the door and sighed in relief as they realized it was Filtiarn entering. They heard the door lock and the Master came over.

“Why the stern faces?” he asked, obviously in a good mood.

“We were discussing about the attack that day,” Ylva stated. His mood instantly sobered.

“Oh, I see,” the master said as he walked in.

“There is much to be done, and I won’t be able to do it,” she said. Her tail tucked up into the sill and Filtiarn looked at Vero who shrugged. He didn’t know what she was thinking.

“Probably not alone, but certainly with some help,” Filtiarn ventured.

“Sure, but you two can’t read this,” she said motioning to the books.

“Of course we-“

“She is referring to the ancient tongue, sir,” Vero said as he pulled on the Master’s sleeve.

“Oh.” He looked thoughtful as he looked back. “But we could learn. You could teach us,” Filtiarn said. Vero stiffened. How many more education sessions would he have to have with her? Ylva seemed shocked.

“You do realize that will take too much time,” she said.

“We’ll live long enough,” he remarked. Ylva sighed with a growl.

“It’d be faster for me to do it alone,” she said.

“Oh come on. You know I like something forbidden.”

“Forbidden?” Vero asked.

“Indeed. My father wouldn’t allow me to learn this, let alone try to read it. It’s why the master didn’t teach it to me. Or I assume that’s why,” he said. There was a glint of the mischievous in his eyes that Vero let out a long sigh. The Master wasn’t going to let this go until he had his way. He could see Ylva starting to protest but he shook his head and flicked his tail. He hoped she had practiced this silent language. He wiggled his ears and tail a bit longer and she sighed in resignation.

“Fine. But if you fall behind, I’ll stop teaching you, and you can find The Master for more education,” she said and Filtiarn’s tail dropped. Vero could sense the energy grow dire. Who was this being that could get the Ulrika to be so submissive?