Chapter 26
SKALD DREKKI
He stood there, grief searing his chest. His claws gripped the stony floor as though the mountain had started shaking again.
What was he meant to do now?
He could feel rage building inside him, a torrent of wrath bursting to get out.
His heart pounded. He wanted to smash the rock that had killed the previous Speaker.
How could this have happened? His wings unfolded, as he drew himself up to his fullest height, thinking to batter the rock aside with his wings.
Thinking to knock the glowing green stone from its position in the centre of the cavern.
A thread of green light pushed through his fury, emanating from the stone at the heart of the cavern. It wrapped around him, soothing him, his wings folding once more with a sharp snap. Come. Come. Fresh tendrils of light blossomed along the path he’d taken to get here.
Come.
The Others forgotten about, he followed the lights, his tail high, back through the tunnel to the Archive.
He slipped once more into the pool. Look.
He looked, leaning his head against the edge of the pool. The images swirled on the smooth rock above his head. For a moment, he watched without seeing.
The pictures had always been the same before.
They played on an endless, soothing loop.
He knew them by heart. There were views of his home within rún-ketill.
There were scenes of his kind feeding from the heart of the mountain.
Of his kind flying through the caverns. Of his kind together, sharing their knowledge and skills.
And some of the Others outside, living their lives on the frozen landscape.
Some of the images were of the stars and planets. Some he recognised. Many he didn’t.
Watch.
Now the pictures changed. The scene he was watching was new. Before, this must have been denied him. Now, he was Speaker. Now he was to be told.
Listen. I am Naer-Vera, Speaker of drekkikind. I bequeath the knowledge of those who have gone before to you, Skald Drekki.
Naer-Vera entered his mind, whispered the stories of the scenes, explaining all he saw, telling him what to do.
They played in the same sequence three times, telling and retelling his destiny.
For some days, Skald Drekki, or Skaldi as he now thought of himself, returned to his pool from the cave that was now his.
He did not return home. Somehow, his family must know what had happened.
The Others had seen to the removal of the body of his predecessor, the scent of the funeral pyre coming to him late one night.
They’d even managed to move the rock that caused the previous Speaker’s death.
Idly, he wondered where the huge rock had gone.
Had it been flung from the ledge? He didn’t know.
He didn’t question. There was too much to learn.
Each time he returned to the pool, the visions overhead were new. Naer-Vera told him what they meant and how to interpret their stories. All of the instructions from Naer-Vera taught him how to be Skald Drekki, the Speaker.
He was now the most powerful among his kind.
With the responsibility of keeping his kind safe from the Others came freedoms he could never have imagined.
He could leave the sanctuary of rún-ketill.
He could soar high above the clouds that clung to the mountain side.
He was duty-bound to fly the length and breadth of the large, cold land over which he presided from his mountain-side ledge.
With each flight, he must examine the ice and mountain face for irregularities.
He would pass over the Others’ settlements to ensure they didn’t expand beyond the boundaries agreed centuries before.
But he must only fly when it was light. If it was dark, he must stay within rún-ketill.
He must ensure the light barrier between drekkikind and the Others stayed in place.
It protected their existence from the Others who’d not been initiated into rún-ketill.
If any Others came within the light barrier, they could be able to see the drekki, if they were imbued with the same knowledge the Others within rún-ketill possessed.
Aside from that, the Others shouldn’t ever be able to see him as he flew above their land.
Naer-Vera implied further instructions would be forthcoming, if and when repairs were needed to the light barrier.
Skaldi hadn’t known about the wall before he saw it depicted on the ceiling above the pool.
He marvelled at it. How had it come to be there?
How did it function? Who had created it? He wished he knew the answer.
There were images of the Others’ settlements, so he knew those that were allowed.
Naer-Vera warned him drekkikind should mix only with those who resided within rún-ketill.
He repeatedly queried why his kind lived separate from all those outside rún-ketill and why their existence was a closely guarded secret from the rest. Eventually, Naer-Vera explained when he refused to absorb any more information until he had an answer.
It hadn’t always been, but the Others were ruthless killers, intent only on murdering as many of his kind as they could.
His kind had retreated into rún-ketill, and built a wall of light to shield them, to keep themselves safe.
Images showed scores of dead drekkis being trampled over by the Others and robbed for their shining eyes and glittering scales.
The images made him feel nauseous. How could such small creatures cause so much harm to something as huge as him?
Those who served him were descended from a select few who’d sought shelter with the drekkis and offered to serve as payment.
They weren’t allowed to leave rún-ketill.
If they attempted it, he had a duty to return them to rún-ketill or kill them if they refused.
The thought wasn’t comforting, but it explained the presence of a race that the majority of his kind knew nothing about. And vice versa.
The Others’ presence on his land explained all the rules about remaining within the cave system and not venturing outside its shelter.
Eventually, a day came when the Naer-Vera quietened and the depiction of different scenes in the pool room ceased.
He spent a full day lying in the pool waiting for the images to start again, for Naer-Vera to reveal more about his life as Speaker. Eventually, he concluded his teachings were at an end.
He stood, allowed the water to drain from his shimmering, golden scales, and retreated to his new home.
Without Naer-Vera to instruct him, he took to spending time on the icy ledge which lay next to his personal cavern, gazing out upon the beauty of his homeland.
His green eyes allowed him to penetrate the Pitch Darkness, as his kind called it, before the light returned to his land.
From the icy ledge, he could see the faint purple shimmer of the huge wall, which was now his to maintain, to keep the Others from rediscovering his kind.
Through the haze, he saw a dazzling vista of sparkling stars in the permanent midnight sky and could see them mirrored in the icy surface of the glacier beneath his home, and around much of which the wall of light shone mutely.
All that he’d learnt led him to pity the Others.
They knew so little. They thought only of killing his kind and not of the knowledge they had.
They were trapped inside their tiny steadings throughout the pitch darkness.
Their existence was wretched compared to all he knew, and all his kind could be.
Soon, he knew, they’d emerge from their pitch darkness imprisonment.
Then he’d fly further than ever before. He’d check to see how many survived.
It was critical he do so. Naer-Vera had told him as much.
Drekkikind could only allow so many of the Others to live on their land.
While his eyesight meant he could see regardless of the presence of the sun, the Others struggled.
They couldn’t endure the freezing conditions and so remained in their homes throughout the pitch darkness.
It was impossible to count them while the sun refused to rise, and they remained locked up tight to keep warm.
In a few days, he’d be able to fly free from the vast caverns of rún-ketill for the first time ever.
He looked forward to the challenge and waited impatiently for the sun to finally crest the horizon after the pitch darkness.
Naer-Vera had told him it would be soon.