Chain of Sorrows 3

The grozya, filled with lightning and rains, to the west were moving slower than the last batch, I looked up to the sky and realized not all of my walking dream was from within. She still watched over me. Goddess of freedom, the light of liberty, patroness of sacrifice, Power of Voice. Svhobohda, my goddess who guided my steps, more than any other of the Fordai. Dyadya Yakin was correct, giving in was letting the bastards win. They were filth, who felt that to alienate a parent from a child was no great price to pay for their ends.

They were wrong. It was to me a terrible price, and one I could see I would bear the weight and scars of for the rest of my long, or short if their side won, life. I would fight, but from now on it would be on my terms, not the twisted rules of the followers of the Evil One. This was the true reason for my, and the others, exile, I realized. We knew that the Fordai were being replaced in the holy places of the city and land of the Ovost by the worship Avbaschor and Yurdlon, whose cults had long ago been cast out of the Homelands and their followers banned by the Fordai themselves in the Zhakon. My future was becoming clearer to me with each moment, but I still knew that I had much more to learn, and things to do before I could redeem my people. Much more, indeed.

I looked up, not just away from the ground, but up to the zvesdya, the sparks that had not landed on a planet, and lit the sky with the fires of their souls, to give hope of the afterlife, and of redemption, to all who gazed upon them. Or so the legends of we Karlykn went. I could feel the very stone of the land around me rising up into my face, setting it into a mask to hide my feelings for the time being. I hoped the mask would some day be able to be removed and my own natural expressiveness would be able to shine through, but it as time for me to get on with my mission, a mission, I knew deep down, had been given to me by the goddess, that day my Vyeriegie was begun.

Now my gaze returned to the present, for in order to accomplish that holy quest, I had to survive the present, and so did all those on this voyage with me. The eye I had developed for movements and maneuver in dangerous places during the war of the Ravienna and the Conflict at Kalancho ot Ivangarzog returned, letting me see the problems in our line, and march. First, tradition
must take the back seat to the survival of all, as was in the Zhakon, and the best trails man must be in the lead. and the leader must at last take up his responsibility. My friends were in as much disarray over this out-casting as I was, but as leader, I must put it all aside, and do my job.

"Devlin, get up here and find the road, try your best to keep us on it, 'Vina get your father on a mule, the Ad with the rules of the Zhakon, these Kal swimmers have thrown them out by making us march out in this weather, so we are freed of the constraints of the traditions of the out-casting, am I not correct 'Darzog?"

"Malchik, they lost my respect ages ago, I will ride out with you, perhaps such a snub will get them in their craws enough to make them awaken from the evil nightmare being woven by Kordar, but I have my doubts. The Zhakon indeed forbids the out casting during a storm from the sea, or during the winter, save in cases of murder or treason, and even then provisions must be made that they have failed to follow through on. You are free from the constraints of tradition, and may organize and order your march as you see fit, will the other Uchenie here versed in the Zhakon support my ruling on this?" His voice, though aged and rough, carried throughout the line, and secunda later, the answers came from Forgilzvoran and Ovgaraikim came from the end of the line confirming my old teacher's interpretation of the Zhakon, the law we dwarves must live by in our own lands. And without them as well. No surprise there, as 'Darzog was the greatest of the scholars of the Law since the days of the Debates of the Ozyero s Koyel. And many of the priests looked more to him than to the fool, may the gods of the Fordai forgive me for judging him, Kordarkukbar, the priest who led the charges and movement for my exile.

"Farzudarvegin, get the animals calmed down, and bunch them up, Zefdarfan get the line bunched up better, and string out a rope, I don't feel like losing anyone in these torrents, Nalbiki, have the Samos’ together and have them protect themselves better as well. All right, let's get set up, all the priests up on animals as well. Run safety ropes between each of us, and keep your eyes open Karlykn, we have a long ways to go yet!"

As the others began to follow up on my orders I thought further on the dangers ahead on the road, and reached back into my memories, trying to find in the dim confines of my mind the way we had used on each of my many trips along the Dormo Doroga. Many came to mind, but the first one was strongest in my mind. Again my hand sought out my Vyeriegie, finding the second link, which had strong connections to this road, for along it, I lost a good friend.