The Gathandrian Trilogy 02 - Hallsfoots Battle

Lost One had spoken and something told her to wait, as she had done before, in the place of silence. The time for action would come, too soon, but it was not now.
    Johan, however, sensed none of this. She could tell his mind was too full of the physical world to pay heed to anything deeper. Was this what war did? Then, by the gods, she wished no more of it. Her beloved could see only the advancing dead soldiers, the enemy of them all holding Talus hostage, and Simon, his friend and cousin, grappling with the mind-executioner single handedly within the fire of the emeralds he’d seemed to yield to Gelahn.
    “ Come on, ” he shouted. “We must help him.”
    He leapt forward, clutching the thought-sword and she could not stop him. Neither of them, as the Lammas Lord followed instantly after. At the wall of green flickering flame, Johan’s best intentions tumbled helplessly into snow-filled air. The first touch of fire on his skin flung him spinning backwards, sending both men crashing to the ground.
    Tregannon cursed, in the old Lammasser tongue, while Johan rolled away and struggled to his feet, panting. As he stretched out a hand to help the Lammas Lord to his feet, Annyeke reached them, her limbs barely able to carry her weight. She had to make him understand, she had to .
    “ Annyeke ,” he whispered, but she shook her head to quiet him even as the flames danced and sang around them.
    When she spoke, she prayed it would be enough for him.
    “Hush,” she whispered. “It’s beginning. Simon’s last story. It might be the only thing to save us.”

The Fourth Gathandrian Legend: Temperance and Greed

    Simon
    The Lost One stared deeply into Duncan Gelahn’s eyes. The mind-executioner struggled against his grip but, for once, Simon was too strong for him.
    “ No,” the scribe said. “Not this time. This time the battle is between the two of us alone and the stories we tell, the stories that cling to us. We stay here until it is done.”
    As he spoke, Simon felt the searching arrows of his mind flow through his flesh and into the ebony and silver cane. From there, the shifting blue changed to starlight that pierced Gelahn’s skin and travelled upwards into his thoughts. The executioner drew in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth for a heartbeat.
    How did you do that?
    Simon did not know. He only understood the conjunction of the emeralds and the mind-cane in his hand had unlocked something deep within him he hadn’t realised was there. As the link between his thoughts and Gelahn’s grew more insistent, he shook his head.
    “No matter. The story you and I live in, and which must be fulfilled today, is this. It is a tale of temperance and greed, and will become the last Gathandrian legend you and I will ever share. Hear me now, and afterwards let the Great Spirit’s will be done.” As the Lost One began to speak, the words echoed in both their minds as well as in the air’s green heat around them:
    There once was a boy. He was born in a country he did not fully understand and had no hope of comprehending. Because two different worlds fought for supremacy in his blood, and neither could win, he was always a loner. An outcast, if you like. When he was young, something happened that changed his life. That event could be anything, but for me, Simon Hartstongue of the White Lands, it was the discovery my mind had more gifts than I could ever know about whilst I lived amongst what I thought were my people. For you, Duncan Gelahn of Gathandria, it was the coming of the Spirit into your thoughts—directly, not in stories and hints of something once known, as is told in all the lands.
    But what happens after this is far more important than all. What path will those two young men choose? How will they live their lives with the knowledge that has been gifted to them? Simon chose the path of moderation. Driven away by his father, he chose to live in the shadows, to run and not to seek vengeance. He learned not to expect too much, a coward’s way, but a temperate one. He even chose to turn away from the truth of the gift he possessed, to deny all he could be and keep on running. Ah, but Duncan was the opposite of this. When he saw what could be achieved, he wanted it. For the good of the people, he told himself, and for the health of the lands but, more than any of these, he wanted it for himself and for himself only.

    Duncan
    He tries to reject the words the Lost One is saying, but they are like daggers in