(N) The Weeping Willow Book I - The Guardian

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Prologue

Vincent awoke with a start. Sweating and disheveled, he sat up in bed and ran a shaking hand through his hair.
The dream had unsettled him. It had centered on a girl, black as night, except for her pale face and fiery blue eyes. She had been lying in a puddle of dark red liquid, which could only have been blood. The image had been brief, before it had shifted to a man. Vincent didn't recognize him, but he recognized the type. Fallen. His blood red eyes were watching something in the distance, and vaguely, the shouts of thousands of soldiers could be heard. Then the image changed again. A symbol burned in the sky, black but bright. Two parallel lines connected by a diagonal one. The two planes.
He shoved the blanket away from him and stood up, stumbling over to the window. Wrenching aside the curtain, he stared up at the sky. His mouth opened. The identical symbol, large as life.
Not a moment later, someone knocked loudly and insistently on his door. He ran over to it, pulling it open to reveal a woman. Her dark eyes were alight with excitement as she pointed to the sky.
"It's here Vincent. She's come."


Chapter I


It was a warm autumn day, full of the scent of apples and the lavender of the Mord fields. A soft breeze blew through the town, belying the importance and gravity of the day. It teased the hair of the pedestrians walking along main street and ruffled their skirts and tunics. Sweeping into the town hall, it paused in the doorway as a tall man stood before a small table of people.
He wore impressive robes of deep purple, stating his rank as town leader. His head shone in the light from the sun, and his dark eyes glinted with worry. He put his hands, dark and tough as leather, behind his back as he stared at the council of Bend. He saw in their eyes what he did not want to see…fear. He sighed and looked at his closest advisor, Morrow Hill.
"My fellows, you can be in no doubt as to why I called you here today," he began, his rich voice spreading through the massive room.
The council members shifted and nodded their assent.
"The towns of Hinder and Meshta have just been raided by Method's men. His invasion has begun."
Sighs and downcast eyes met him.
"Gentlemen, as leaders of this town, it is our duty to protect our people. I don't know if Method knows we are his target. Hinder is close by, yes, but does this mean he knows who resides here? I cannot say. But we can't be too cautious. Method will plunge south until all are within his control. If he finds the Inaol, well that's a benefit for him. But I believe at the moment he is merely trying to force allegiance by the other cities. Nevertheless, we have to act, and quickly."
One of the councilmen, Shaf, stood.
"Solstice, that's all very well, but what are we going to do? Hinder had an army four times the size of ours and look what happened to them. We can't face Method's men. I mean…you know what they're supposed to be."
Solstice closed his eyes briefly. Yes, he knew what they were supposed to be. Mutant men crossed with beasts of the underworld. Beasts who could wield lightning and shoot fire from their eyes. Beasts who could have their heads chopped off and still stand again and fight. He also knew that that was highly unlikely. No one but the guardian could reach into the underworld. He knew Method's men were not normal, but they weren't invincible either, just very strong and very smart.
"I know Shaf. We cannot stand against him; few can. So we must flee. Flee into the west, where he will not go. He has made it clear he wants the Southern Port, and I don't think he will delay in reaching it. But for us, we must leave this town."
Morrow, his brow creased, looked up.
"You're going to evacuate the town? That's dangerous. We'll be traveling for weeks, with his prize in the midst of us, on the open road with only our raiders to protect us. That's folly, Solstice."
Solstice looked at his friend sadly. "It's the only choice we've got. We can't fight, we can't hide, we have to flee."
He spoke with a solid conviction that left no room for argument. Silence filled the hall for a moment, before Shaf spoke again.
"When will you announce it?"
"Tomorrow."
Morrow was still looking uncertain. "And how can you guarantee the safety of the Inaol?"
"I will be taking them personally to Pathe."
"Solstice, Pathe is not fifty miles from Rasheen, you wouldn't dare bring her so close to Method." The cry rang out, and every member nodded his head emphatically.
Solstice raised his eyes to the ceiling, decorated in large, swirling designs.
"Morrow, I know, believe me, I know. We will take the long way round, and stop at Denthero first. I and ten of my raiders will accompany them. If the majority of Bend is leaving for Shavlan, Method will have no reason to suspect the Inaol of going elsewhere, if he knows this is where the Inaol lay. As far as Rasheen, Pathe is more than capable of concealing our presence. And Pathe is probably the only town that Method can't touch."
Morrow still looked unconvinced, but held his tongue.
"I suppose you'll tell them tomorrow?"
Solstice nodded.
"And then make the announcement afterwards." He added.
Silence once again fell upon the council, until Solstice clapped his hands and announced adjournment.
The council filtered out of the oaken doors into the sunlight, talking amongst themselves. Morrow nodded to Solstice and left.
Solstice stood for a moment longer in the council chambers, staring at the walls of inlaid wood and gold, and at the Irendir crest upon the floor. It was a willow tree, surrounded by a flock of eagles on one side and a large sword with a snake curled around it on the other. He sighed and strode from the hall pulling his hood over his head. He looked around. It was market day, and the street was full of people. Many nodded to him, recognizing the tall, imposing man.
He turned down a side street and followed it to the back roads, away from the crowds.
The town of Bend had long been just a small dot on the map. Until eighteen years ago when the Inaol of Iorene Lyd materialized out of nowhere. Solstice knew what that had meant, lowly council member though he had been. The former leader, Saeve, hadn't been able to rejoice long before he was killed. No one knew for sure what had happened, but rumors had flown that Method had tortured him for information concerning the Inaol and then killed him. Solstice didn't know if Method found out that the Inaol was there. It was unlikely he did, because nothing had happened in the last eighteen years to indicate it. Solstice just hoped their luck would last.
He blinked. The sun was setting now, and he needed to return home. He pulled his robes tighter around him and stepped off the path.



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The setting sun cast a blood red haze on the chipped desk as Method Rainer pored over an old map. The ruined and broken stone around him made a morbid backdrop to his temporary office. The room had once been the watchtower for the powerful citadel of Hinder, but no more. Hinder, despite their wonderful king, had fallen within a week to Method's army. No one remained in the town except for his men, looting and enjoying the spoils of another victory. Hinder's king had been wise to flee, and lucky that Method wasn't interested in him.
Method's brow creased as he stared down at the dot on the map. Bend, a small town, but not easily taken. He doubted that the leader would be stupid enough to wait around for him unarmed. News of the raids must have reached them by now. Solstice was a wise leader, like Thorne. He would not surrender easily. But he would surrender. Method frowned again, staring at the map, tracing a line from Bend to a small square in the north surrounded by trees. Pathe. He would have expected the Inaol to have ended up there.
Suddenly the door behind him burst open and his second in command, Vagar, burst in, his wolf's cape flying behind him. He was looking worried. Dropping to a bow, he spoke hurriedly.
"My lord, the Advent is rising."
Method turned to stare at him. "So it is beginning."
Vagar shrugged. "I would assume so. They must have seen the sign."
Method nodded. "Very well. Thank you, Vagar."
Vagar bowed out and shut the door behind him.
Method returned to the map and looked at the town. Just twenty miles away. They were evacuating. He knew his men expected him to attack while they were on the road, but he would not. It might cause a few raised eyebrows, but he could afford to wait.
He folded the old map and tucked it in his shirt. Standing, he made his way over to the hole blown in the wall of stone. The sun was nearly set, and the ruined town lay in soft blue light. No building was intact. He could see random soldiers walking here and there, most carrying some treasure. Method smiled. He would not deny his soldiers their spoils. Though there were no women to ease them.
He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. Despite what many people thought, Method was not mad, though he never denied it. It gave the people something else to fear.
He turned back to the desk.


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Illiana Willow walked among the crowd, pausing here and there to examine something. Her shopping was done, as her basket was nearly overflowing, but she enjoyed looking and was reluctant to leave too soon.
She fingered a silky blue scarf heavily embroidered in gold thread. The woman selling the scarf noticed, but Illiana left hastily before she could come over.
She continued down the road, sidestepping small children, dogs searching for scraps, and the occasional smashed tomato.
Several people waved to her or called out a greeting. Illiana was well liked in the small town. She was smart and friendly, and her father, Myelin Willow, was the best?-not to mention the only?-horse trainer for fifty miles. Illiana was often seen riding bareback and barefoot on the edges of town, or walking along the lake, reading.
Illiana strolled along at her ease, her basket on one arm. She paused at the flower display to sniff deeply of a display of white roses.
"Illiana." A voice said from behind her.
Illiana turned and smiled at the young woman in front of her.
"Hello Lyvia." She said happily.
"How are you?" Lyvia asked, smiling back.
Lyvia was the daughter of one of the town's leaders, Morrow. If Illiana had a best friend in the town, she would have said Lyvia was it. She was an unlikely companion for the tomboyish Illiana. Lyvia, with her fair, delicate features and long golden hair was a popular one with the more sophisticated of the town, and preferred going to parties to riding horses. But she was a sweet-tempered girl and Illiana liked her immensely.
"Splendid. Just finishing up the shopping for Father," she said, holding up the basket.
"How is he?" Lyvia asked. She had been to Illiana's many times, and her and Illiana's father had struck up an instant friendship.
"He's alright. Busy as usual, otherwise he would be here with me."
"I haven't seen him in a while. I ought to come by some time." Lyvia commented, walking with Illiana down the street.
"He'd like that." Illiana said, shifting the heavy basket on her arm. "Is your father here?"
"Yes, he's trying to find some book or another. Would you like to find him with me?"
"I would. I haven't spoken to him for longer than you haven't seen my father." Illiana said, falling back slightly to let Lyvia lead her to the bookstand.
They found him poring over a very thick, very old volume bound in fraying red cloth. He was so immersed in the pages of the book that he didn't hear them approach. Lyvia tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and looked around.
"Lyvia, Illiana. How are you, my dear?" He asked, smiling at the two girls.
They continued with the inquiries as they made their way to the edge of the town, leaving the square and the noise behind.
"How's Mrs. Hill?" Illiana asked, thinking of the plump, motherly woman so different from her daughter.
"She's just wonderful. Keeping me well fed." Morrow replied, patting his stomach. "I'm sure she'd love to see you."
Illiana protested out of courtesy, but easily gave in when both Morrow and Lyvia urged her.
The Hills lived very close to the square, so it didn't take the party long to reach the fine house. Morrow opened the back door and let Illiana and Lyvia enter first. They had entered the kitchen, and in front of the large fireplace at the other end bent Mrs. Hill, stirring a pot of stew.
She turned at the sound of them and upon seeing Illiana burst into wreaths of smiles.
"Illiana. How wonderful to see you again!" She said, smiling and hugging Illiana tightly.
"And you, Mrs. Hill." Illiana said, hugging her back.
"Put that basket down. You're staying for dinner, of course." Mrs. Hill said, taking Illiana's basket from her and motioning to the stew.
Illiana inhaled the scent of the pot and nodded enthusiastically. Mrs. Hill, who refused to be called Lady Hill, beamed at her then turned to Morrow.
"What did Solstice have to say?" She asked.
Morrow turned to her, his expression suddenly grave.
"Hinder and Meshta have been raided. Method overtook them a few days ago."
Mrs. Hill gasped.
Illiana paused in the act of lifting her spoon and looked up sharply. "Hinder? But that's not far from here."
Sir Hill glanced at her. "No, it's not. Rather too close for comfort, in fact. I'm going on to bed dear. I'm not hungry."
Mrs. Hill nodded at him and he exited through the door in the front of the kitchen to their room.
She turned to the girls and smiled sadly.
"Didn't think it would come this soon. Thorne's always kept every army away from Hinder, but I suppose Method was just too much for him."
Illiana looked puzzled. "Thorne?"
Mrs. Hill and Lyvia looked at her in mild surprise. "You've never heard of him?"
Illiana shook her head.
Mrs. Hill blew a bit of hair from her face and sat down next to her, picking up her own spoon.
"Thorne's the king of Hinder and the outlying areas, including the Sodiu Hills. He's the best and youngest the throne's ever known. Somewhat of a military prodigy, or so they say. Personally, I've never met him, few have outside of his territory. He's got a mind like a machine, can work out any problem, and he has a knack for knowing an enemy's weaknesses. But this is Method we're talking about, so it's no wonder he's been overrun."
Lyvia was looking dreamy, and Illiana recognized the look and so prepared herself for what was forthcoming.
"He's absolutely gorgeous too. Everyone knows about it. Every girl hopes he'll choose her to marry, but he's never mentioned marriage at all. Great disappointment, I assure you."
Illiana gave a small smile. "Well, right now I don't think any girl would want to be on the run from their own land just overrun by a mad magician."
They ate in silence for a moment, then Illiana looked up.
"What is Hinder like?"
Mrs. Hill looked up at her and considered. "Very hilly. I've heard there's hardly any plainlands there. But it's supposed to be beautiful. Thorne keeps it well managed. He may be arrogant, but he at least pays some attention to his subjects. More than I can say for others. Thorne is a strange fellow, from what I've heard. He was born of the Antilla family, the royal family, you know, and so had every chance of becoming a spoiled and self-centered child. But his parent's were smart people. His father believed in discipline, and his mother was a hardworking, unfrivolous woman. So he grew up into what the people call the ?'Gem of Hinder'. Not so at the present, I would imagine."
Illiana looked down, stirring her soup distractedly. She hadn't ever bothered herself much about what was going on in other parts of the world, but Hinder was very close to home.
They finished up the meal in silence, until Illiana pushed back and said she needed to be going.
"I don't suppose you can come back with me, Lyvia? I know Father would love to see you again."
Lyvia shook her head regretfully.
"I wish I could, but I have a letter I've put off too long. Tell him I missed him."
Illiana nodded and picked up her basket. The Hills hugged her and saw her out the door.
Illiana walked slowly past the town still full of shoppers. She shifted the basket on her arm, trying to find a comfortable place.
The sun was hot overhead as she walked along the dusty path leading to her house and farther.
The Willows lived on the edge of the forest flanking the lake beyond. Their house was relatively small and modest, but it more than adequately accommodated a father and daughter who wished for no luxuries. Illiana hummed a song she knew well as came upon their dwelling.
She walked up to the door after checking the barns and finding them empty. Her father was sitting at the slab table studying what looked like a training chart.
She set the basket down just inside the door and walked over to stand behind her father, peering at the chart. The chart was indeed filled with the notes and carefully recorded stats of her father's business.
Myelin finally noticed his daughter standing behind him and smiled up at her.
"Hello. How was town?"
She replied with the airiness of one who has much to say but doesn't want to say it.
"Busy and crowded as usual. I got all you needed and no more. I also saw Lyvia and Sir Hill, and went with them to dine. They missed seeing you."
Myelin made a noise of regretful acknowledgement.
"I am sorry now that I didn't go. What did you talk of? Does Morrow know of any news outside of Bend?"
Illiana nodded and told him of the raids.
Myelin sat back in his chair, stunned.
"Did he say anything else?" He questioned hurriedly.
Illiana shook her head. "No."
Myelin shook himself, trying to dispel his shock for Illiana's sake.
"Valor has been missing you. You should ride him."
Illiana didn't speak for a moment, trying to see into her father's mind. But eventually she gave up and nodded.
Getting up, she motioned to the basket. Myelin glanced at it and nodded. Illiana opened the door and walked out to the barnyard. The main barn where Myelin kept most of his own horses was where Valor, Illiana's giant chestnut was stabled.
Valor stuck his head out when she entered, giving a low nicker. His forelock was dusty and full of bits of hay. Illiana sighed when she saw that his entire right side was covered in dried mud.
"Rolling again." She muttered, opening the stall door and leading Valor into the front of the barn by his clumped forelock.
She bade him stand and fetched one of the more heavy duty curry combs to work on the caked mud. Valor craned his neck in the air, his lip twitching and his eyes rolling as she massaged his favorite spot.
She mounted outside, blowing a bit in the hot sunlight, and urged Valor towards the woods. He broke into a brisk trot, his ears pricked happily, and Illiana sighed with relief when they reached the cool shade.
The forest stood but fifteen feet from the Willow property, and beyond it lay the lake. Illiana loved the lake, and the forest. She often haunted its many paths, knowing it as well or better than the back of her own hand.
She pulled Valor from a clump of grass and urged him onto the path between two tall oaks.
Once on the path, Valor calmed down enough to allow Illiana to loosen the reins and sit back in her seat.
Snippets of the conversation with the Hills came back to her.
"Thorne's always kept every army away from Hinder, but I suppose Method was just too much for him…"
"Too close for comfort…"
Illiana frowned and shifted in her seat.
Method, as far as Illiana could remember, had always been made out to be a monster in far away lands who was used as a frightening tale for children, but never as a real threat. Of course, once Illiana was older, she came to realize just how real he was.
Method was rumored to be a madman, an insane magician taken to fits of violent rage. Illiana didn't know much about magick. Her father seemed wary of the subject, as did all the residents of Bend. But she did know that Rasheen, Method's fortress in the north, was supposed to be literally crawling with it.
Stories abounded about his army, his great and all conquering army. It was said that no man walked in his lines, only monsters. Monsters that could wield huge swords and send bolts of ice and lightning. Monsters that could curse you with a look and screamed so loud your ears would pop. Illiana didn't believe these tales. The only magick she knew of could make things light, levitate inanimate objects, or fix a small wound, certainly nothing strong enough to knock over a building or rip a human apart without touching him. But she supposed that maybe evil magick was different.
No one had ever been able to tell if these stories were true or not, because no one had ever met the madman and survived. Illiana knew that in some towns, it was an annual sort of event that all the young men would take part in a contest of strength to decide who would go against the magician. None of the men ever returned.
Every town had their own army or some other sort of defense in order to stand against him, but it seemed that no one, not even the great Thorne, could defeat him.
Valor snorted at a squirrel and stopped suddenly. Illiana blinked and urged him forward again, murmuring softly.
They came upon the lake then, breaking through the trees onto the sandy shore and glistening water. Illiana walked Valor forward in the tall rushes and dismounted. She took of his bridle and laid it down, allowing Valor to plunge his head in the cool water and drink deeply. Watching him, Illiana sat down in the sand against a stump and removed her boots, wiggling her toes in the sand. Valor snorted in the water, blowing bubbles, before lifting his head and perking his ears at a bird flying by. He dribbled water, walking over to Illiana and woofing in her hair. Illiana laughed and pushed his dripping nose away. Sighing happily, Valor lowered his head and began to graze in the lakeside grass.
Illiana smiled fondly at him and sat back, leaning her head on the stump and staring up at the puffy white clouds sailing by.
A light breeze stirred her hair rustled the tall grass. It was so peaceful. A bird swayed gently on a stalk of grass, its bright eyes blinking quizzically at her. Slowly, her eyes fell shut and she drifted off into a light sleep.
Dreams passed in her head, strange dreams. She saw huge bears with bloody red eyes, and icicles with deadly sharp points in its hands. It growled at her, and then screamed, throwing one of the icicles. She screamed herself, falling back, her hands clamped over her ears. She tripped, looked down, and screamed again. A child was lying in front of her, its eyes rolled back in its head, a bloody icicle stuck in its neck. Suddenly the scene changed, and she was marching towards a huge black castle, its twisting spires reaching miles overhead it seemed. She looked up through a cumbersome helmet and saw that a million black worms were crawling over the surface of the castle, making it seem as though the rock were pulsating. On one of the parapets stood a man, a huge man, covered in skins, holding an enormous sword, and, raising it to the sky, drew forth a stream of lightning into it. He lowered the blinding sword and pointed it at her, opening his mouth in a wicked laugh.
She awoke with a start. Valor was bumping her with his nose. She was lying on the sand, she must have fallen off the stump at some point. Looking up at the dusky purple sky, Illiana hurriedly stood up and wiped the sand from her skirt and put her discarded boots back on. Valor waited patiently this time while Illiana put his bridle back on and clambered on his back, urging him into a light trot.
The first fireflies were just beginning to light up when Illiana rode Valor into the barnyard. She quickly jumped off him and led him into the barn, hastily untacking and regrooming him.
After putting Valor in his tall, she walked back to the house. Through the lit window, she saw her father standing over a pot of something. Opening the door, she sniffed. Creamy chicken soup.
She walked over to the basin of water and washed the dirt and dust from her hands before sitting down at the table and raising her spoon expectantly. Myelin grabbed a rag from the sideboard and picked up the soup with both hands, turning to the table. He chuckled at Illiana and shook his head, setting the pot down on the table. Illiana smiled to herself as she poured them each a bowlful.
Myelin sat down and picked up his spoon.
"I'm going to see a customer tomorrow." He said, dipping his utensil into the bowl.
Illiana looked up, her mouth full of soup, and nodded. Myelin smiled fondly at her and began to eat.
After dinner Illiana cleaned up their bowls while Myelin fed the horses. She glanced out of the window at the dark sky dotted with bright stars, and sighed contentedly.
Drying her hands, Illiana opened the back door and called a goodnight to her father. He answered from the training barn. Illiana closed the door softly and turned to the staircase to her right, leading upstairs and to her room.



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Solstice watched until the candle in her bedroom window went out. Looking around, he saw her father, Myelin, walk from the barn into the house. Solstice briefly wondered if he locked the door.
The dark man turned towards the forest again and entered, not bothering to watch where he walked. Dragons rarely needed to watch where they walked. His slitted eyes glanced around the wood, memorizing everything. He had never been in this part before.
Solstice looked up at the many constellations in the sky and thought back to the girl in the house. Illiana Willow. A beautiful name. How old was she now? Oh yes, eighteen, of course.
He walked among the leaves, his steps light. No girl should have to deal with this, he though dismally.
But she was the Inaol, and it was her destiny.