Read Online The Knife's Edge by Matthew Wolf - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Matthew Wolf
Tags: Fantasy
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into the lock. With a deft twist, and a scratching whine, it unlocked. Mura lifted the heavy lid. He hid the contents and drew out something. Then, he shut the lid with a bang, and relocked the chest.
In his hands lay a tome as fat as a brick. Gold and silver reinforced the thick spine. The hermit stroked the book’s worn cover. “Ages has it been since I’ve held this.”
“Where’d you get it?”
Mura words were quick, as if it was a well-worn memory much like the book. “I purchased it in the unlikeliest of shops, just shy of the port, in the city of Reym, when I was your age.” He must have seen Gray’s look of confusion. “Reym is a traveler’s city. It’s not far from the great Tir Re’ Dol, used as a waypoint. Many interesting things can be found there if one knows where to look.” Despite the hermit’s earnest tone, something seemed absent from his story. The hermit continued, “There is something I want to show you.” He peeled opened the book and Gray saw strange patterns upon the aged parchment.
Gray faintly recognized the symbols. “I’ve seen those before,” he whispered, but as he tried to remember, he hit the same wall. Frustrated, he shook his head. “Go on,” he said, and Mura continued.
“These symbols stand for each of the nine Great Kingdoms. Each representing an element of old,” Mura said, pointing to each in turn. “Forest for the Kingdom of Eldas, home of the Elves, the element of nature; water for the ancient city of Seria within the Grand Falls, often called the city of tranquility; stone for the stronghold of Lander, whose walls were thicker than small cities, fortified within the rocky crags; moon for the city of Narim, coveted in the dark hills—half above, and half beneath the land, a vast, subterranean gem; sun for the shining keeps of Vaster, like alabaster jewels, always in the dawn’s light; metal for the city of Yronia, backed against the deep mines, a land of steam and gleaming steel; fire for the dark Farbs whose incantations ignite the night sky; and at last, the Kingdom of Flesh for Covai, a city of men, women, and beast, the land of the Mortal Being, the largest spiritual sect of all the lands. Each are called the shining jewels, the Great Kingdoms of the Lieon.”
Gray leaned forward to get a closer look.
“Of course,” Mura said, sitting back. “However, there is one kingdom that is often forgotten.” The hermit paused, his hand running over the coarse paper as he turned the page to reveal a symbol that made his pulse skip.
Mura spoke in a dark tone, “The symbol of wind. It stood for the ancient city of Morrow, upon the windy cliffs of Ren Nar that oversaw the world. It is the banished element.”
Gray looked to the snaking pattern of wind, losing himself in its design. He wanted to trace his fingers over its familiar shape when Mura snapped the cover shut with a thud, shattering his trance.
The hermit stood. “I’m giving it to you,” he said, hefting the book.
Eyeing the unreadable glyphs upon the cover he asked, “And how am I to read it? I don’t even know what language that is.”
“The language is called Yorin. I will teach it to you. For now, simply treat it well,” he said and then stretched. “The stew looks ready. Go ahead and serve it up. I’ll put this in your room with the rest of your books.”
Gray set out two wooden bowls along with a crusty loaf. Chewing on a small hunk of the bread, he hooked the teakettle over the fire’s flames, when there was a soft thunk from outside, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. He cursed. Probably just another loose shingle from the roof, and I’ll be the one that will have to fix it. As he turned, a loud rasp made him freeze. He leaned forward, peering out the darkened window. Branches swished. Just the wind, he repeated when a movement caught his eye. “What kind of animal…?”
A shriek split the wind’s moan, and he backed away from the dark window.
“Douse the
In his hands lay a tome as fat as a brick. Gold and silver reinforced the thick spine. The hermit stroked the book’s worn cover. “Ages has it been since I’ve held this.”
“Where’d you get it?”
Mura words were quick, as if it was a well-worn memory much like the book. “I purchased it in the unlikeliest of shops, just shy of the port, in the city of Reym, when I was your age.” He must have seen Gray’s look of confusion. “Reym is a traveler’s city. It’s not far from the great Tir Re’ Dol, used as a waypoint. Many interesting things can be found there if one knows where to look.” Despite the hermit’s earnest tone, something seemed absent from his story. The hermit continued, “There is something I want to show you.” He peeled opened the book and Gray saw strange patterns upon the aged parchment.
Gray faintly recognized the symbols. “I’ve seen those before,” he whispered, but as he tried to remember, he hit the same wall. Frustrated, he shook his head. “Go on,” he said, and Mura continued.
“These symbols stand for each of the nine Great Kingdoms. Each representing an element of old,” Mura said, pointing to each in turn. “Forest for the Kingdom of Eldas, home of the Elves, the element of nature; water for the ancient city of Seria within the Grand Falls, often called the city of tranquility; stone for the stronghold of Lander, whose walls were thicker than small cities, fortified within the rocky crags; moon for the city of Narim, coveted in the dark hills—half above, and half beneath the land, a vast, subterranean gem; sun for the shining keeps of Vaster, like alabaster jewels, always in the dawn’s light; metal for the city of Yronia, backed against the deep mines, a land of steam and gleaming steel; fire for the dark Farbs whose incantations ignite the night sky; and at last, the Kingdom of Flesh for Covai, a city of men, women, and beast, the land of the Mortal Being, the largest spiritual sect of all the lands. Each are called the shining jewels, the Great Kingdoms of the Lieon.”
Gray leaned forward to get a closer look.
“Of course,” Mura said, sitting back. “However, there is one kingdom that is often forgotten.” The hermit paused, his hand running over the coarse paper as he turned the page to reveal a symbol that made his pulse skip.
Mura spoke in a dark tone, “The symbol of wind. It stood for the ancient city of Morrow, upon the windy cliffs of Ren Nar that oversaw the world. It is the banished element.”
Gray looked to the snaking pattern of wind, losing himself in its design. He wanted to trace his fingers over its familiar shape when Mura snapped the cover shut with a thud, shattering his trance.
The hermit stood. “I’m giving it to you,” he said, hefting the book.
Eyeing the unreadable glyphs upon the cover he asked, “And how am I to read it? I don’t even know what language that is.”
“The language is called Yorin. I will teach it to you. For now, simply treat it well,” he said and then stretched. “The stew looks ready. Go ahead and serve it up. I’ll put this in your room with the rest of your books.”
Gray set out two wooden bowls along with a crusty loaf. Chewing on a small hunk of the bread, he hooked the teakettle over the fire’s flames, when there was a soft thunk from outside, barely loud enough to be heard over the wind. He cursed. Probably just another loose shingle from the roof, and I’ll be the one that will have to fix it. As he turned, a loud rasp made him freeze. He leaned forward, peering out the darkened window. Branches swished. Just the wind, he repeated when a movement caught his eye. “What kind of animal…?”
A shriek split the wind’s moan, and he backed away from the dark window.
“Douse the
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