The Sacred Stones of Jahiya were scattered by Sky-Cleaver during his lifetime so that the gods of the storms could never find them. There were five sacred stones, one for each element. The Aerorune kept the island aloft, and it was in the king's secret chambers in Marnaqa. The Hydrorune kept the waters that fell on the island fresh and drinkable and always moving, never stagnant. It was kept in the bottom of a deep lake full of deeper currents somewhere on Jahiya. The Terrarune kept the plants and soil from being washed away from off the island. It was housed in a cavern, one of the few on Jahiya. The Vulcarune kept the island from getting too cold at its altitude, allowing the plants to flourish. This was deep within the center of the island, deeper than the Terrarune. Finally, the Magirune tied all the others together, allowing them to work in harmony. It was somewhere in the only hill on Jahiya. In order to return Jahiya to its proper place, however, the Sacred Stones had to be destroyed one at a time. For this task, Palvion was chosen. He had faith in himself beyond all else, but he knew he would need so much more.
The mountain seemed to be calling his name. For the past three days, Palvion had been travelling towards it. He had passed out of the dense jungles of Marnaqa and is very quickly approaching the plains. The gentle blades of grass cover the mountain all the way to its appex. There, somehow Palvion knows, lies the first of his targets: the Magirune.
The climb is hard, for the hill is slippery for the rain. Palvion slowly makes his way up it, however, and by the time the sun sets outside all the other areas, he is only half way there.
He is ready to sleep, and goes to roll onto his back. However, his foot slips on the wet grass. A thunderclap brings more rain, and he goes sliding down the mountain with the rest of the water. A few feet from the foot of the mountain, Palvion comes to rest. Weary, he thinks of giving up. He had spent an entire day climbing the mountain and now he must start anew. Things are simply not going his way lately at all.
Then, Palvion turns to face the summit of the mountain, more a large hill now that he looks at it closely. It seems to be mocking him in a way. Growling deep in his throat, Palvion leaves the mountain to find two sharp rocks that are small enough to hold in his hands. Then, he charges the hill, digging the rocks into its muddy surface for traction. Slowly but surely, he makes his way up the hill.
Palvion drags himself up the hill, arm after arm, crawling along. The water cascades into his face and down his torso. Finally he sees it: a flat area on which to rest. Climbing the last few yards to this area of solace three-quarters up the steep mountain, Palvion drags himself to the flat area to rest. There, oblivious to his surroundings, he falls asleep, completely and totally exhausted.
Palvion awakes to a very loud clap of thunder. He blinks his eyes open and sees a wave of hail heading towards his head. "Do the gods not want their stones?" he asks himself aloud. He rolls closer to the hill and is surprised to see that there is an alcove hidden there in the long grasses and ground cover. He stands there in the cold damp and waits out the storm.
A small stream of water flows over Palvion's feet as he walks further into the alcove, sparked by curiosity. He is surprised to be able to see fairly well in the ill-lit area. Up ahead, on a sort of alter, are two bits of flint and a torch that had been kept high-and-dry and away from the perpetual water.
Palvion strikes the flint and lights the torch, journeying deeper into the cavern-type area. Stepping gingerly where he deems the stone floor not too steep, Palvion makes his way to the back of the caverns. There, the wall is smooth.
Holding the torch to the wall, Palvion can discern various carvings and paintings. One is of who he presumes to be Sky-Cleaver. Tracing his fingertips over the otherwise indecipherable glyphs, Palvion closes his eyes. In this manner, he gains meaning from them.
"You, weary wanderer," he reads aloud, saying it as he reads it so that he does not garble the message, "are cursed with the most ill-desired quest. I am Gav, god of thunder. I have chosen you, wanderer, to restore to us the things which have been taken. Unfortunately, I only know how to destroy the stones of your quest. There is an axe not far from this spot. Indeed, it is directly above you. Use this to destroy your goals and return them to their proper owners." Palvion opens his eyes and stares at the wall. Below the message are other glyphs which he recognizes as the marks of the Sacred Stones.
Looking up, Palvion sees something glimmer. He holds the torch up high and sees the edge of an axe imbedded in the stone above him. "How the blazes am I to get that down?" he asks himself, blinking incredulously. Then, he sees the handle. It is the shade of the rocks around it and blended in well.
Palvion jumps, grabbing the axe handle with one hand. He begins to lose his grip. To save it, he drops the torch and grabs the axe handle with two hands. He swings his legs up to touch the ceiling. Then he pushes. The axe comes loose, and Palvion and it falls to the ground. Both land beside the barely-lit torch.
"Now, to find the Stones," Palvion says, grabbing both the torch and the axe. He makes his way back to the alter and exchanges the torch for the flint. He pockets the flint in his trousers and walks with the axe to the enterance of the alcove.
Palvion stares in disbelief at the stone on which he had slept. The hail that had fallen fell in the pattern of the Magirune. "You have got to be kidding me!" Palvion exclaims, falling to his knees and slamming the axe down on the stone in frustration.
As soon as the axe touches the stone, the entire hill begins to shake. Palvion stands and the shaking stops. "What was that all about?" he wonders aloud. Curious, he touches the axe blade to the stone again, this time keeping it there despite the shaking.
The hail cuts its design into the stone, and the stone seems to melt away, taking half the hill with it. The lack of the massive Sacred Stone leaves palvion stranded with a cold, dry place to sleep. Completely miserable for the lack of water, Palvion sighs.
"Now what am I supposed to do?" he asks himself, perching near the now-sharp edge of what was once the begining of the alcove. "I honestly have no clue," he mutters, turning to enter the alcove. He has no other choice.
"I wonder what's this way?" Palvion asks, wandering aimlessly through the cavern systems in the hill. Suddenly, rain is falling on his head, or at least it is some sort of cool water. He looks up; he is outside again! It is as dark as within the caverns, for it is now night. Palvion grins. He flings himself to the ground and hugs it. "I love you!" he calls. "Whoever led me here, I love you!" He laughs almost hysterically, so glad to be out in the open again. He outs the torch and lays down to rest, staring up at the skies.
The rising moon, far away and just barely visible above the ridge of wherever Palvion is, dances on something that Palvion just barely sees. It is roundish and mottled grey, somehow different from the stones around it. Palvion rises, and begins to walk over to it.
However, Palvion trips over a rather large rock, tearing open his foot. "OWWWWWWW!!!" he screams as he lands in front of the egg-like object. He sighs, and he brings his foot closer to him for a better look. He touches it and takes some of the moisture from his abbraision and tastes it. It is bleeding. "Idiot, Palvion. You are probably the least outdoorsy person I've ever met," he mumbles, letting the rain wash onto his injured foot.
Eventually, the water begins to sting. Seething with pain, Palvion tears off a piece of his trousers and binds his foot. "What moron thought it would be a good idea to not invent some sort of foot-protection?" he asks himself, rocking back and forth with pain and biting his lip. "Whoever it was deserves a very, very painful afterlife," he adds, nodding to himself.
Then, the whole of Jahiya seems to shake and rock. In this moment, the grey egg rolls into Palvion's hip. "Whatever you are, you're coming with me," he says, taking the egg in his arms. The island then seems to reorient itself, dropping a few feet. Palvion feels his stomach lurch into his throat. "Gah! Don't do that again, gentle Jahiya!" he cries, clutching the egg tighter. He then lays himself on his side, holding the egg still, and falls asleep.
Limping pathetically with the grey egg in tow, Palvion is on the move a bit before the sun is up again. He reaches the top of the crater as the sun crests the low-hanging clouds at the horizon. Winded, he sits down in the rain, knowing he must treat his foot sometime soon.
"Is the young prince injured?" comes a familiar voice.
"Only physically. My stupidity has cost me a kindly foot," Palvion replies.
"Your slowness of pace may cost you more, young prince. There is a time constraint after destroying the Magirune."
"What!?"
Marki nods solemnly. "You must destroy the next Stone quickly to restore the balance. If you do not, the entirety of Jahiya will crumble beneath us, and surely we will all perish."
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
"I did not know until the island shook and rocked last night. You, gentle prince, must destroy the next rune within the month, or we are all doomed."
Palvion sighs. "This is all so cliché. How many stories are like this?" he muses aloud. Then, he turns to Marki. "Where can I find the next Sacred Stone?" he asks.
Marki closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. "The Hydrorune is deep below the Lakes of Wynth."
"They really exist?"
"How dense you are, young prince! Of course they exist! All of the legend of Sky-Cleaver is true, and soon, it will be true once more! You are Sky-Cleaver reincarnate, and you must accept this!"
"But is the lake not nestled in a grove of vicious, wicked alien trees? Do they not come to life if ever they are touched?"
Marki nods and opens her eyes. "Journey to the west. Destroy the trees with your weapon, with Sky-Cleaver's weapon. They will retain their unnatural colours of blues and purples and greys, but they will not harm you any longer."
Palvion sighs. "So, this is Sky-Cleaver's weapon as well. How do I know you are not tricking me, Marki?" he asks and turns to face the woman. However, the ancient hag is gone already. Palvion shakes his head wearilly. He needs his foot bound, and then he can think of reaching the Lakes of Wynth. Wearilly he circles the lip of the crater and heads for the forests in the west.
Palvion's foot is bound well and wrapped tightly, but still it pains him to use it. Thus, he limps down the forest paths, wondering what catastrophy the destruction of the Hydrorune will bring about for his people. He tries to convince himself that it will not hinder the Yrnaks, but rather help them.
Suddenly, an ear-splitting howl fills his ears. It seems to come from a pained animal, and Palvion rushes towards its source. Unexpectedly, fifty other howls echo through the forests around Palvion. He leaves the path with the egg in his arms and braves the uncharted forests.
Soon, a horrid sight brings him to a stop. He is at the edge of the forests around the Lakes of Wynth. Looking up, the rain still comes down, but the leaves of the trees are no longer green. Rather, they are rich and subtle tones of silvers, golds, blues, purples, and white. Looking up at the leaves reminds Palvion of the eyes of his people. They are many colors, but none seem to fit them correctly.
The first screech snaps him out of his revery, and the second sends him into a panic. The voices are so near now. Palvion feels as if he could reach out and touch whoever is in pain. He looks around, and then he notices that he can.
At the center of a grove of the strange trees is one that is lying on its side with other trees around it. The one on its side is lashing out violently, but the other trees seem to be - no! They couldn't be, could they? Why would one tree be eating another? Palvion does not care, but he readies the axe of Sky-Cleaver and places the grey egg he had found on a rock nearby.
Rushing into the grove, Palvion holds his axe high. He swipes at the canibalistic trees and connects with one. Immediately after, it resumes a rigid form, its soul now dead. One by one, the trees become still, their souls departing with tortured screeches. Soon, all life that is left in the clearing is that of himself, the egg, and the crippled tree in the center of the clearing.
Palvion retrieves the egg, surprised that it is still where he had left it. Then he hangs the axe from a loop on his trousers and rushes towards the crippled tree. Its leaves are mottled purple and white, much like his own eyes.
"Are you okay?" Palvion asks, looking the tree over for injuries.
A low, muted screech is the reply, but a voice enters his mind. *Why did you stop them?* it asks, enfeebled and tormented.
Palvion blinks. "You weren't in pain?"
*Yes, I was. However, it was a pain that I had not known since the days when the land began its flight.*
"Why did you feel pain at that time?"
*It was then that a man named Palvionic placed the strange stones in the land. When he did this, my people turned against each other and lusted for more substantial food than simple water and earth. They began to eat each other, and the insanity spread through my people. In the end, the stones were forever set in the land, and Palvionic was dead. The madness stopped its spread, and those of us who were infected by it were killed. Now, as before, the madness comes.*
"Can you survive?"
*I do not wish to survive.*
"Why not? Does no one care for the future any longer?"
*Those words sound so familiar. They bring to me a sense that I have heard them before.*
"Who said them to you?"
*The man who brought on my people's insanity. Palvionic. He entered these woods with a small stone. He said he was going to place it in Wynth's Lakes, and he saw the pain of my people. I was but a sapling then, but I was being attacked then as well. He, like you, saved me, and I told him to kill me. He would not, despite my pleas. Now, kindly gentleman, I ask the same of you.*
"What can you tell me of the stones?"
*You will know where to find them. You will find them for your heart will call to them. You will heal your broken land, but your people will no longer love you for it. You must make a choice: Do you want to live in a comfortable peace, or do you want to live the life for which you were destined?*
"How do you know this?"
*Palvionic told me this as he healed me. He told me to tell the one who saved us from the madness. I used to have but white leaves. After he touched me, I was cursed forever with the wretched purple of his essence. Kill me, kindly gentleman. I beg you.*
Palvion nods. He can not stand to see the tree-being suffer. He takes the axe of Palvionic, of Sky-Cleaver, and he places the egg on the ground. Raising the axe high above the tree's gentle trunk, Palvion takes a deep breath. "Can I ask you your name before I release you from your tortured body?"
*My name, kindly traveller, is Wyxtran. Whoever you are, I thank you.*
Palvion nods. It aches his heart to kill the gentle tree-being. His tears, however, mix with the rain that streams down his face. Swinging the axe down, he cleaves the trunk of the tree in two. Instead of a scream as the soul departs, Palvion hears only Wyxtran's voice.
*May you find peace and hope,* it whispers.
"I trapped you once, long before," Palvion whispers as he collapses after returning the axe to its proper place at his hips, "and now I have set you free. Forgive me the injustices I have caused your people, and I will make my choice. It will be difficult, though, for you have opened my eyes. Sky-Cleaver was a man, as I will be. He was a man with a heart, a conscience, and a soul. He was more than a legend. He was me. I was him." He sits there in the rain as a clap of thunder bellows out the passage of lightning. Palvion watches the skies. They seem to mock him, flashing luminous smiles of electricity through the air that are chased by the laughter of the thunder. "I am Palvion, and I will undo the wrongs I have previously committed." He sat there for a long time, thinking of the choice he knew he had to make.
Background by Ender Design.