Dominion Ch. 08

Trysten awoke in a cold sweat, shivering as he sat up quickly in his bed. He looked around and realized it was still dark outside. What woke him? Looking around the room in a bleary stupor, he realized that he was not in his bedroom at the castle. He rubbed his eyes and sighed as the memories of the day began to seep back into his conscious mind.

Had it only been a day since he left?

"It has been four days since you arrived here, and six days since you left the castle," a voice spoke through the night. "you have been in a heavy rest ever since we carried you from the marshes."

"Where am I?"

"You are currently within the Temple of Melora. Welcome to Mire, Trysten," the eerie voice continued. "Very few outsiders have had the privilege of entering our safe haven."

He rubbed his eyes once more and searched for the man that spoke. He found it difficult to discern the direction of the voice, and wasn't able to find the speaker in the darkness.

"You cannot see me, because I am not with you. I am currently speaking through your thoughts. Mind walking, as your people put it," Trysten stood and looked for a way out, unnerved at the way the man accessed his mind so easily. "Do not panic, I mean no harm to you. In fact I believe you will benefit a great deal from being here. But first I must ask; who are you?"

"You know who I am."

"That is not an answer. Who are you?"

"I am Trysten Gallindo."

"No, there is a deeper answer that you must seek. Who are you?"

"I am... I..." he trailed off, confused at what the man was getting at. "I don't understand."

"You must search within yourself for the answer," the voice riddled in a positively vexing manner. "Once more. Who are you?"

"I'm a useless urchin who can't even survive on his own!" Trysten snapped, anger bubbling from the irritating question. "I am a weak, hopeless man, with nothing and no one."

"No, my brother," the voice chuckled. "You are a vessel of truth. A shell meant to carry the will of Melora. You must abandon the sentiments of the physical world before you can truly see. You must put aside such petty things as emotions like love and anger before you can truly live. Do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know."

"In time, we will see," the voice echoed in his mind. "The first step in this process is to abandon yourself. Dress yourself in the white robes beside your bed, and nothing else. Then leave through the door on your right. Follow your intuition, and you will find the place that you are meant to be."

"What the hell does that mean?"

The voice did not reply, so he made quick work of dressing himself in the garb. The robe was loose and thin, with no belt or fancy embroidery. It was made of a simple cotton fabric, with a single cotton tie at the side. It hung loosely over his body, hanging down around his ankles, and he looked around for shoes but there were none. He wondered why they had put him in such a simple outfit, but then remembered the man's words as he walked to the door that was not there before. He must abandon himself. He must become a vessel. But what did all of that mean? Could he truly give up everything for this God he did not even know?

He stepped out into the hallway, and sighed. There were four halls he could choose from, and he had no idea which way to go. He closed his eyes and tried to think on what he had been told. He had no way to discern the right direction, he had no idea where he was even supposed to be going, and so he could not rely on common sense or logical deduction. He would have to rely on intuition. But what did that mean, exactly? And where was this place he 'was meant to be' anyway?

He opened his eyes once more and looked between the halls for some kind of clue. He thought about pointing his finger and spinning, so he would go down the path he ended up pointing to, but somehow he didn't think that guesswork and intuition were the same. Similar, yes, but not the same. He closed his eyes again and considered what it meant to follow his intuition, but nothing came to mind, so in an irritated huff he turned around to return to his room only to find the door was replaced by four more halls. He turned around and around, looking at the eight different directions in fear and confusion. What kind of games were they playing with his mind?

Abandon yourself.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. Maybe... Maybe if he emptied his mind, it would simply come to him. So he stood there, eyes closed, and focused on turning off his thoughts one by one. It was a meditation technique he had been taught as a child to channel his anger. Little by little he cleared his mind, popping stray thoughts like bubbles until his consciousness was a blank slate of darkness. Suddenly he found himself moving forward. He opened his eyes to the hallway he had chosen, awestruck at how long it was, but he kept walking. It didn't seem to end, and when he turned around he found it stretched out as far and unending behind him as it did in front of him. He took another deep breath to calm himself and kept moving forward, forcing the thoughts out of his mind as he walked. Pondering nothing's at a time like this would be useless. Keeping a blank slate would be his only chance at guiding himself forward like he had before.

Something possessed him to stop, and he turned to his right and touched the wall. There was nothing there, but when he turned to keep walking, he found another hall directly behind him. Without any hesitation, he turned down the new hall and began to walk down it, pushing away his doubts when he found himself in another unending hallway. He kept walking on and on, until another hall appeared on his right. He turned to walk down it, but something was nagging at him to keep moving past it so he did.

As he walked, the hall became darker and darker, until it was so dark he could not see anything, Even himself. He tried to call out, but found that he heard nothing, not even his own voice. He tried again but there was still no sound in the pitch black dark. He reached out all around him but found no walls to support him, and when he dropped to the floor he found there was no ground beneath him.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't falling. He tried to clasp his hands together, but he couldn't find the coordination, so he reached for his face but felt nothing. He realized with a bit of horror that his tense of touch was completely gone, along with his sight and hearing. He took a breath but felt no relief from it, straining to smell the wet musty stone of the halls, but there was nothing. He screamed in horror, but there was only silence, and he felt as if he was lost in nothing. He couldn't even move, because he couldn't feel if he was or not, and after a while it almost felt as though he was no longer a person anymore. He was just a floating consciousness, drifting through the darkness into nothing.

Not nothing... Everything.

Pictures and colors and memories fluttered past, projected around him as if he were watching them play before his very eyes. Each left as quickly as they came, flickers of his life that clicked on and of and on again. He tried to reign them in with little success. It was hard to turn off the only sensation he had access to, when he had nothing else to focus on. He couldn't count his breathing, he couldn't open his eyes and focus on a point, he couldn't even hum to himself. All he had were the chaotic workings of his mind, and they dragged him along through rapid fluttering and confusing projections of dreams and thoughts and memories. He felt as if he were being swept up in a tide with no boat or paddle, and he fought to keep from losing his composure as he wrestled for control over his mind.

It felt like an eternity had passed before he finally was able to attain control. He fought to clear it all away, just like before, and pushed away every thought and memory until he was swimming in darkness again. He relaxed and let himself drift away in the dark void, waiting with a surreal calm for whatever was meant to happen next. He was surprised and confused when he found himself suddenly standing within a courtroom, surrounded by the nine wings. After further inspection he recognized one of them as a half breed of Kyaga and Daegra. He turned again and found himself face to face with an elder mystic, and found the man staring directly at him. He smiled a devious smile, but did not seem intent to let on to his unintentional spying. After a moment of calm and focus, the voices of the people around him began to surface, and it was difficult to take in after having been forced into silence for god only knew how long. He watched the progression with a morbid curiosity, confused by their angry bickering.

"How long do we wait then?"

"As long as it takes. If we aren't contacted, then we don't continue with this attack."

"This was a clear breach of the treaty, no matter who did it or why! Are we just going to sit by and allow them to simply get away with it?"

"The heir is banished, and the princess held like a prisoner, yet you question the Dominions motives? I agree with Setuo. I think it would be safer to stop this coup before the conspirator takes the throne. If the Naugu take the crown, all of the Intel we have recovered, all of the lines of communication and records we have will be lost."

"What makes you think the Naugu are the culprits? Why would they risk a confrontation with the Kyaga?"

As soon as Trysten began to take interest in the discussion, he lost focus and was whirled into another place. He realized with a bit of confusion that it was Nora's bedroom. Serenad was sitting on the bed, waiting as Nora entered. She looked shocked and angry that he was there, and He could sense her fear as well. What did she have to be afraid of? They stared at each other in silence, until the door to her room clicked shut behind her. It was then he noticed the power suppressing bracelet around her wrist. Before she could speak he was pushing her against the wall, his blinding speed too much for her slowed perception. She squeaked in alarm as he pressed her into the stone, placing his lips against the base of her throat.

"Hello Nora," he began softly, closing his eyes and frowning. "I've been awaiting your return."

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your conversation with Rhyn. I'm quite aware of your thoughts," He murmured. "It's too bad, I really like you. We are going to have to work on your attitude."

He turned her so that her back was to him, and began to yank her skirts up over her hips. She snarled in anger, struggling against his iron grip as he pulled the dress over her head. He took both her wrists in one hand and pinned them above her, using his other to caress her skin. He trailed his fingers down her back and over her ass until his hand rested over one of her cheeks, and then gave it a hefty smack. She yelped in surprise, arching away from his hand, and turned her head to glare at him as he hit her again.

"Count."

"Go to hell."

"I won't stop until you count."

"Do your worst, plague scrum."

Trysten shook his head and began to walk toward her, reaching out in his need to tear Serenad away from his sister, but the closer he got the faster the scene shifted out of focus and he was suddenly standing in a lush garden, surrounded by exotic flowers. He turned around in confusion, and found himself before two elder men engrossed in deep conversation.

"You think Cluo is a spy?" the man with hazel eyes asked. "but why do you think that?"

"I know he is a spy, Luscien," the wiry, green eyed man replied. "I know because his mind is hidden from me. Every time he looks my way he smiles this ugly smile like he knows I can't see what he is thinking."

"Maybe he just prefers privacy. You know, not everyone enjoys having people poke around their head-"

"You don't understand, Luscien. The only people I've ever seen with that kind of control is another Maeleq. Someone is helping him."

"I... That's a scary thought. I wonder why he is here then. How could he have gotten so deep without being discovered?"

"Because I allowed it," the mystic said, and then turned his gaze onto Trysten. He smiled a wistful smile and stood up to fully face him as everything around them faded away into a soft white nothing. "You are here. I must admit, you are learning much faster than I originally anticipated. And you are very strong willed to have been able to contact me this way. They would have never allowed you to find me if they had the power to stop it."

"What are you talking about?" Trysten asked, breaching the space between them with a hurried step. "Who are you?"

"My name is Okuo, and I am a member of the Kaharin council," he began, opening his arms in a wide arc as if in welcome. "As to what I am talking about... Well, I am an old man, with cryptic thoughts that don't concern you. At any rate, I am glad we have finally met. We have a lot to discuss."

"Do we?"

"Yes," the elder man replied solemnly, "I bought you a bit of time, but two weeks is not much to prepare. Thankfully you are developing quickly, so this may not take as long as I thought it would. I'm fact, two weeks may be a perfect amount of time."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, but I'm sure you do, Trysten," Okuo smiled even wider at Trysten's confused expression. "You are aware that the Naugu are planning to overthrow the Dominion? You don't seem surprised at all. What might surprise you is that the brotherhood has broken the treaty with the republic."

"What? How?" Trysten took a step toward Okuo, desperate to understand. "Why would they start a war if they... No wait. That's actually brilliant! If the Tourik begin a war, they will only weaken the Kyaga's hold on the capital. If all the troops are fighting the Tourik, then there will be no one to protect Hollowood from the Naugu."

"Precisely."

"The council does not want the Naugu in control of the throne. I've gathered that much, at least," Trysten sighed and shook his head. "Are they so blood thirsty that they don't see this war would cause the very thing that they fear? I assumed the Tourik were more level headed than this."

"Some more than others," Okuo chuckled, a soft smile playing on his lips. "The plan was spearheaded by Jahren, believe it or not. He believes our best chance at stopping the coup is to attack while the Dominion is weakened."

"Of course... But if what you say is true, your focus should be on Ylatm. Not Hollowood," he explained with an irritated hand gesture. "If my sister is injured by any of your men, I promise you... I will paint Phoenix with their blood."

"I'm quite certain she can handle herself," Okuo smiled at Trysten's words as he stepped around him. "Besides, I think she has a well suited admirer... Of the Tourik variety."

Suddenly they were whisked into a stone room, filled with furniture that signified someone's personal quarters. He surveyed the room with quiet curiosity, and turned to find a rather massive young man laying on the bed. He was on top of the blanket with his arms stretched behind his head. He seemed very troubled by something, of which Trysten was unsure.

"His name is Farias Iearde. He is the special operations unit captain."

"The Raven? How does he know my sister?"

"He met her while tracking a missing person near Krauth Forrest. He hasn't been able to focus on anything else since."

"Wait... Isn't his father the council regent? This... This might actually work in our favor..."

"Our?"

"Oh, don't play coy with me. You knew I would end up siding with the republic in this, or you wouldn't be wasting your time telling me any of this information," Trysten said distractedly as the gears began to turn in his mind. "For all I know, you planned to have me banished for this sole purpose! Regardless, I think it's quite obvious what needs to be done."

"Enlighten me."

"Think about it. The Kyaga are a very prejudiced people. It's still illegal to cross wed and cross breed within the Dominion. Serenad's hold on the throne will be precarious regardless of his marriage to my sister," Trysten nearly stumbled over his own words in his excitement. "Take her out of the picture, and they will never accept him as heir."

"How do you intend to 'take her out of the picture'?"

"I'm not sure. But a marriage to Farias would help to bridge the differences between the Dominion and the Republic. It will be a rocky union at first, but the Dominion is already yearning for change," he explained with a smile. "And if I take back the throne then we can weed out the traitors together. If the Kyaga and the Tourik have a common enemy, then it will help to unite them."

"Then our focus should be to capture Nora, and hold her in the capital," Okuo frowned as he considered Trysten's plan. "I still do not know how that will be managed, but it's better than the plans we've formulated so far. It will be difficult to gather support until we have a more solid strategy, but informing Jahren and Farias of your ideas would help,"

"Do they trust you?"

"Yes. If I let on about our conversation, then I'm sure they will begin discussing their own plan of action."

"Good. You said I have two weeks?" Trysten waited for Okuo's nod to continue. "Wait a week to bring this to the council. I need time to focus on my training. I will see what I can come up with for Nora."

"I will do as you have asked."

"Thank you. I am glad to have the wings of light in my favor."

"One thing before you go, Trysten."

"Yes?"

"Do not let the mystics in on these plans. They do not condone violence. You will need to hone your abilities to break away from their order."

"You think they will attempt to hold me hostage?"

"You have entered their safe haven. If they have their way, you will never leave it again. You must gain their trust, and fortify your own strength before you attempt to return to the world."

"I understand. Thank you Okuo. I hope to hear from you soon."

"And I you, young prince."

The world around him turned dark once more, and he found himself floating back inside the cocoon of his on consciousness.

Where did you go, my brother? I could not find you for a time.

"Forgive me. A mystic from the outside was seeking audience with me."

What is this mystics name, young one?

"Ohna. She works for my father."

I see. This is quite unfortunate news.

"Not at all. I have nothing to say to her. That chapter of my life is over."

That is good to hear, my brother. Very good indeed...