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Travis

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  1. There are implicit explanations already there such as Uthas not being concerned with the earthquake and then mentioning how "he" (Syler) has completed his next step. I do believe that Growald explains it explicitly later on, so that might be what you are thinking of.
  2. And at last, the Temple Rescue (Pt. 1). As this chapter was originally quite massive already, I decided to split it up into two chapters. I also moved the part where Raella reacts to the Confirmation of the One to this chapter as it fits more appropriately here than later on. I refined bits and pieces of this as well as added a good bit of description of Bronwyn's condition and Syler's reaction to it. It is moderately graphic, but then again, this is rated what it is for a reason. The rest of the rescue/escape will be coming shortly hereafter, I hope. _______________ Chapter 15 "What can the Master of Magic do?" you ask? Many have speculated on what powers he will be able to wield and how he will act, but it is just speculation and I do not deal in wistful fantasy. What I do know is that I would not want to be against the One should his fury be roused. — Sage Te of Fogora Temple of Kubei City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut August 30 It had been three days since Bronwyn had been taken and everything was set. True to his word, Growald had provided no fewer than three men at any given time to help Syler build the lamp holder. Even if they didn't know how to smith, they were still handy in doing menial tasks. The smith, a man who refused to give his name or accept any money, that Havert provided was far more valuable in speeding the project up. Once it was complete, the massive holder had been hoisted onto Havert's cart by a small horde of men provided by Growald. He didn't know what other plans the sergeant was making and he didn't care. As long as he got inside that Temple and was able to rescue Bronwyn, he didn't care what happened. The only people he cared about were her, Havert, and Alltis. The rest were on their own in this. The night before, he sneaked out of the village and placed two packs full of food, clothes, and a bedroll in a large bush with the intention of collecting them on their way out after this was all finished. All of his savings were now in a pouch tied to his right thigh under the thick leather smith's apron he was wearing as "armor" during the raid. Syler was not too surprised to see Havert among the men preparing for the attack. He did not know what had been involved in the conversation with his wife, but apparently they had decided to stick it out with him even if it meant leaving the city. Alltis didn't seem upset at it because she was there to send them off and wasn't angry or arguing with Havert. She even wished them the god's blessings as they set out toward the Temple. Syler was glad to have his friend at his side once more. They had fought together at Fazei Crossing and Syler knew that the redhead was good enough with a weapon. Everything was set on Syler's end and Growald assured him that the rest of the plan was in place. It had taken until the late afternoon to finish the last touches on the holder, but it was finished and they were on their way. Growald, Syler, Havert, and three of Growald's best men were riding in Havert's wagon with the pieces, but by the way the sergeant kept looking around, it was clear that he was expecting something to happen. The weapons he had procured were concealed within the wrappings of the pieces, though each carried knives tucked away in their belts. Syler had cleared everything with the Angvardi overseer who was eager to get the lamp holder in place so he could get the priests off his back. As they rode in through the outer square, Syler didn't look off to the sides, but kept his gaze forward and his jaw set with determination at the grizzly and bloody task ahead of him. He had gotten little sleep over the last few days, but had been fueled by images of horror that Bronwyn was likely facing to keep going at all costs. He had lost weight and his skin had taken an ashen appearance, but he didn't care. All that mattered was finishing his work and preparing for tonight. At last, Havert pulled his team to a halt as close as possible to the ominous black doors that sealed the Temple. As a smith who centered his life around working with metal, Syler had often wondered what sort of alloy these oily doors were. He had asked a few people in passing over the last two months, but nobody knew. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but take advantage of the opportunity to get a closer look at the doors, but was left as clueless as to their composition as the first day he saw them. Two regular guardsmen standing at the doors paid them only a casual glance as they got out of the wagon and began going about their work. The six of them split into teams of two and hoisted the beams over their shoulders. The black doors slowly opened from the inside as those within noted their arrival. Once through the doors, they were met by four armed Shalktra and a priest wearing the white colors of Faetwel. The priest was clearly excited over the arrival of their precious lamp holder and inspected the visible parts of the struts. Syler assured him that he could see them in all of their glory as soon as they were on the roof and able to install them. As soon as the doors shut and the Angvardi guards outside were not able to see what was happening inside, Growald made his move. As one, all six of them pulled out their knives and attacked. Within two seconds, all of the Shalktra either had their throats slit or a knife driven into their hearts. Syler was glad that Growald's former Seinari were well skilled because they had done the dirty work before their targets could as much as cry out. "Now, we open the door and let our friends in," Growald said with obvious pleasure as he triggered the lever that would force the door open. Syler was looking around for anyone else to notice them, but nobody did. The others quickly fell upon the two hapless Angvardi guards that had been outside and cut them to pieces with little trouble. That was the signal for the other three dozen men to charge into the square and launch their attack unopposed. Instead of shouting battle cries, they were all silent. In their brief meeting before setting out, Growald had emphasized that the element of surprise was only good if the enemy was actually surprised when they saw them. Nobody wanted to face a hundred alert and wary Shalktra and whatever priests might be within, so they kept quiet. Once inside, they dragged the bodies of the Angvardi in with them, spread sand over the blood stains, and sealed the doors behind them. One of the men had jumped into the wagon and drove it off. Syler hoped that the casual passerby wouldn't notice the lack of guards and that any reinforcements would be inhibited by the door itself. If the Angvardi were alerted to what was going on, they would surround the Temple and a very nasty siege would begin, but that wasn't his concern at this moment. He wanted to at least have the opportunity to deal with everyone in the Temple uninterrupted before they had to worry about getting out. "We head down, now," said Growald quietly. "Down?" asked Havert with a look of confusion. "Yes, down. The priests here wouldn't want the shrieks of anguish from their victims to interrupt their meditations, so the prisoners will be held underground, and believe me, there is an underground dungeon here." While the rest of his men fanned out throughout the Temple, Growald started down one of the hallways with six of his men with them. Havert and Syler quickly followed him. Their group encountered and dispatched a few priests and a couple of off duty Shalktra, but there was not much resistance as they made their way towards what Syler hoped was the entrance to whatever underground lair this Temple held their prisoners in. At last, Growald pulled open a door revealing stairs that went down instead of up. He was right. Without pause, he charged down the stairs with such force that he bowled over the two guards standing at the bottom. His men killed them quickly as he continued his charge hoping to catch any more guards by surprise. The stairs had opened into small room that divided into three passageways each leading different directions. Their attack had not gone unnoticed and four armed and angry Shalktra emerged from one of the passageways. Growald and his men charged head first into them and filled the room with the sound of clashing metal and the cries of men in mortal combat. Syler blocked one of the Shalktra's attacks and prepared to block the next when Havert dug his sword into the man's side spilling his innards all over the rough stone floor. The fighting didn't last for long with the Terulans being outnumbered two to one. As a testament to their skills despite being outnumbered so badly, two of Growald's men remained unmoving on the ground. With only six of them left and three passageways, Growald ordered them to split up in groups of two. Syler and Havert went down the passageway directly opposite of the stairway entrance and continued down it cautiously. Syler had expected the passageway to quickly lead into a series of rooms, but it did not. Instead, it began a fairly sharp decline leading them deeper into the earth in a series of odd twists and turns. The stone walls were no longer the crisp, cleanly cut and occasionally polished stones that made up the tower portion of the Temple, but were now rough, poorly fitting stones held together by mortar hastily applied. Instead of ornate lanterns, the corridor was lit by crude torches in plain holders stationed every couple of yards. Syler figured that whoever went down here didn't care about aesthetics. They went on for another hundred or so yards before they heard it: faint screams echoing down the passageway from in front of them that Syler thought sounded familiar. Both friends looked at each other for a second before breaking into a run. They ran another fifty or so yards before coming to a room containing several cell doors. All but one of the doors was shut, but one was open. The one with shrieks of horror and pain coming from a very familiar voice emanating from within. Syler sprinted forward and halted in shock at what he saw. There, with his back to him, was a man standing over a naked and bloody Bronwyn with a knife in his hand making a cut down her left arm. He didn't hesitate, but merely reacted on instinct and lashed out with his sword to cut the man's entire hand off just above the wrist. The man's mouth gaped in a silent cry of pain, but Syler didn't want to give him any chance to recover and harm Bronwyn again. Without hesitation or remorse, he shoved his sword clean through the man's back and pulled it out with a sickeningly wet squelching sound. The man tumbled to the ground without another word and would never move again. Not that the man was dead, Syler's attention turned to Bronwyn. She was completely naked, but was clothed in blood and filth. Her face was no longer the beautiful, almost delicate visage that he had come to love, but was a mass of painfully swollen bruises and cuts. Her lip had been split in at least two places leaving a thin dark red trail of dried blood down her chin. Her nose had been broken in multiple places while her eyebrows and eyelashes looked to have been plucked out. The amber hair that once flowed down to the middle of her back had been crudely hacked off and her scalp was caked in mud and blood. Her left ear had been boxed so many times that it was swollen into a sickening blob of purple flesh while the cartilage in the other ear had been slashed in two. He could see bruises and older lash marks covering all of her bare body, but it was the fresh cut that started at her navel, traveled up between her breasts, across her heart, and down her left arm that concerned him the most because it was still leaking blood. Upon closer inspection, it didn't appear to be too deep, but the sight of all that blood coating her body was terrifying. Not knowing what else to do, he knelt next to her and ripped part of the dead man's shirt to form a rag with which to wipe the blood off of her face. "Bronwyn, I am so sorry I took so long," he said in anguish. He could hardly speak because his throat was constricted in horror and remorse. She didn't react, but simply sat there simpering as though trapped in a nightmare he couldn't comprehend. Wanting to get the chains off of her, Syler searched the man he had killed and quickly found a set of keys attached to his belt. With fingers slick in his wife's fresh blood, he fumbled with the keys to find which one would unlock Bronwyn. When she was at last free, he cradled her filthy head in his arms while repeatedly whispering to her that everything would be okay. He was so consumed in the agony of seeing her like this, he didn't even hear the commotion outside as Havert found himself facing two Shalktra who had been in a small room at the end of the row of cells. He was calling out to Syler, but wasn't able to get to Bronwyn's cell. Facing the more experienced warriors, he was driven back into the passageway they came from and was using the narrow walls to keep from being overwhelmed. One Shalktra let his companion deal with the redhead while he went to find Syler. When he approached the cell, he smiled in anticipation of the easy kill. Syler was kneeling on the ground half holding Bronwyn with his sword lying next to him. He jerked when he finally heard Havert's screams and the sound of swords clashing, but it was too late. The Shalktra clubbed him with the hilt of his sword sending him to the ground. Bronwyn screamed, but Syler was in too much pain to think about screaming with her. The Shalktra laughed and grabbed Bronwyn by what was left of her hair and pulled her up to where he could see her better. "Shame about the cuts," he leered, "but I am sure you will still be just as much fun as you were last night. Killing always whetted my appetite for women." Even though his free hand was holding a sword, he still managed to grab her breast in a bruising grip. Bronwyn's shriek turned Syler's blood into ice. Never before had he heard such pure terror in someone's voice, and judging on the Terulan's words, he had a good idea why she felt that way. The very thought of what the man was implying ignited a fury within him that melted the ice faster than a snowdrop in the middle of his forge. He pushed the pain he was feeling aside as he got his legs beneath him. From his crouching position, he launched himself at the Shalktra with nothing but murder as his intent. The man was too busy enjoying Bronwyn's helpless squirming to react in time and fell as Syler's full weight slammed into him. The three of them tumbled back against the cell wall and slid to the floor. Bronwyn scrambled away, but Syler bent all of his focus and will towards one goal: getting his hands around the vile Shalktra's neck. He allowed his hatred for this man to drive him in his struggle and ignored all else, even the fact that the world was beginning to turn red. The only thing that mattered to him was killing this man so that Bronwyn wouldn't be subjected to more rape and torture. They wrestled back and forth on the ground for a few seconds, but the Shalktra didn't possess the ferocity that Syler had and wasn't going to last long. The man's initially confident look quickly melted into panic as he realized just how worked up and driven his opponent was. With a steeled jaw and blazing eyes that offered no hint of mercy or forgiveness, Syler slowly but surely forced his way through the Terulan's defenses until his hands were around the man's neck. The blacksmith didn't bother trying to choke the life out of the man, he simply squeezed as tightly as he could and jerked once. There was a faint popping sound and the Shalktra stopped struggling, his face permanently frozen with his wide eyes looking up and his mouth gaping. Syler remained on top of the other man for a few moments while catching his breath and letting the world come back to normalcy. Colors other than red once again returned to his vision, though his heart didn't stop racing. He didn't hear any more fighting in the hall and feared what that meant. Before he could get up to see what was happening outside the cell door, he felt the cold touch of steel on the back of his neck and realized it was all over. He closed his eyes and waited for the final blow, but none came. Risking a look behind him, he saw that the sword wasn't being held by another Shalktra, but by Bronwyn herself. In the brief struggle with the Shalktra, she had grabbed Syler's dropped weapon and now held kept it up against Syler's throat as he turned around slowly. Her lips were peeled back in a snarl and her cheeks were red with more than just blood. Her eyes held no humanity within them, but were more fierce than a wolf's. He hadn't ever seen her like this and feared what it had taken to bring her to this point. "Bronwyn, it's me," he said calmly. His words didn't register on her face. He smiled and made sure he didn't make any sudden moves as he tried to slowly stand up. "You know me. I am Syler, remember?" There was no response from her, but she kept the sword steady in her bloody hands. "Wha—" came Havert's voice from the cell door. Syler grimaced both at his extremely bad timing and from the feeling of the sword as it was pressed slightly into the soft flesh just above his collarbone. He felt warmth trickle down his neck, but it was nowhere near as much as would soon flow from him if she decided to stab him fully. "Stay back," he said calmly to his friend. He looked back at Bronwyn and met her manic eyes. "I am Syler, your friend, your husband. I came here to rescue you, but I can't help you if you don't put down that sword." Her head began to jerk back and forth a little, almost as if she were trying to process things, but there was still no other reaction. "Look, Bronwyn, you love me and the Bronwyn I know would never hurt me. I have only ever tried to protect you. I love you, Bronwyn, I love you and was too stupid to admit it until after you were gone." Realization slowly began to dawn on her face and her grip on the sword lessened a little, but she did not put it down, so Syler continued. "I am so sorry that it took me so long to come for you, but I couldn't do it alone. I spent day and night working to get you out and I have come for you." Tears were beginning to form in her eyes and one or two escaped to mix with the blood splattered all over her face. "If you put that sword down, we can get out of this place and escape forever. We will never come back to this place." With a single sob, realization came over Bronwyn's face like a flood and the sword clattered to the ground. Paying no heed to the sorry physical state she was in, she grabbed Syler in a fierce hug. "Syler, my love," she said, though her voice was a mere whimper. "It is you." Syler returned her embrace and stroked her matted remnants of hair for a few seconds, but had to break it and step back. "We need to get out of here or we will be trapped." Though she was still shaken and clearly weak from her captivity, Bronwyn was herself again. Havert had pulled the Shalktra's shirt off and gave it to her. It wasn't enough to cover all of her nakedness, but it was better than nothing. While she pulled the large shirt on, Syler looked out in the cell block and saw the bloody body of the other Shalktra where Havert had felled him. He took another look around to make sure there were no more foes around. Only then did it register that the other cells were occupied. Some of the other women were there as well, though they didn't dare cry out for fear that the wrong people would answer. "Come on," he told Havert as he picked up his sword and the key ring from the torturer off of the ground. "We need to get these other women out." They left Bronwyn to collect herself while they quickly began releasing the other six women. They were all in bad shape, but it was clear to Syler that those who were the most attractive had seen the worst of it. Not all were naked, but some were. One poor woman was unconscious and had to be carried out by two of the stronger women. Syler and Havert needed their hands free in order to fight off any further Shalktra. Any weapons carried by the dead guards were purloined, but Syler didn't hold much hope for any of the emaciated women being able to do much in a fight. When they were finished, Syler went to get Bronwyn. As he looked into her dim cell, he was surprised to see her wearing the Shalktra's pants and boots. The pain and shock were still on her face and she didn't seem all there, not like the woman he used to know. She had the presence of mind to cut the legs of the pants down so they wouldn't trip her up, but it she had put the boots on backwards. Her movements were slow and unsure as though she was in a daze. When she noticed him, she tried to smile at him, but it looked more like a grimace. "I am sorry, Syler," she said with a voice made hoarse by screaming. "I would never hurt you." "You have nothing to apologize for," he replied. "After what they did to you, I would be surprised if you weren't jittery." She looked at him with eyes that still possessed a hint of the craze that filled them earlier and said, "Promise me that you won't let them take me, even if you have to kill me." Syler prayed to the Elements that it would never come to that, but after seeing what they had done to her and the other women here, he could understand why she wouldn't want to go back to it. "I promise." She nodded and followed him when he led her out. Havert had finished getting the other five women ready to move. Though two were carrying the unconscious woman, all looked eager to get out and offered no resistance at all to their directions. They were silent, too, and for that, Syler was very grateful. He had heard enough screaming today to keep him up for a lifetime of nights. They managed to make their way through the winding passageway and to the room that led the stairway up and saw that they were not the first ones to make it back. The second pair of Growald's men had returned with six other freed prisoners in a condition similar to what the women they freed were in. The men didn't say anything, but remained in their watchful positions with their eyes on all four entrances to the small room. A minute after Syler's group arrived, Growald arrived one man short but with seven women in tow. He took one look at Syler and asked, "What happened to you, boy?" He gestured at Syler's chest, throat, and head. For the first time, Syler noticed that there was fresh blood dripping down the side of his face where the Shalktra had hit him with his sword hilt. His chest, too was covered in blood, but it wasn't his. "The head was just from one of the Terulans getting the drop on me before I killed him," he explained quickly. "The rest of it mostly Bronwyn's blood but also some of her torturer's." Growald looked over to see Bronwyn in her Shalktra outfit but with blood still dripping slowly down from her arm and a large stain down the center of her chest. He made no comment, but shook his head angrily as he took stock of the situation. There were now five men left and they were now responsible for twenty women, one of which was still unconscious. "Let's get outta here," he said gruffly. "There should be more of us up top and if the Elements are with us, we might be able to escape into the city without much notice." The group didn't even manage to get to the top of the stairs before running into further resistance. Three priests armed with daggers and a single Shalktra were inspecting the bodies of the two Shalktra that had been guarding the door. They looked up when they heard footsteps and charged down the narrow stairs to confront them. Growald was in the front and started to fend them off, but the priests proved to be surprisingly adept with their weapons. He killed one of them before a priest managed to slice him deeply in his right arm causing him to drop his sword. With a loud curse, he punched the priest in the face with his left fist and backed away. Syler, who was behind him, was more than willing to take his place. He was still furious at how the women had been treated and now that he had Bronwyn with him, he would not let anyone stand in his way on their flight to freedom. The priest who had sliced Growald tried to stab him in the side, but Syler managed to twist out of the way and make a quick slash into the side of the priest's neck. The Shalktra sidestepped the fallen priest's body and lashed out with his sword. He locked blades with Syler, then fell back with blood gurgling out of his mouth as one of the Sei men threw his knife over Syler's shoulder and into the Terulan's neck. Syler didn't have time to thank the man before the last priest was on him. After a few rapid exchanges, Syler shoved the priest's knife hand out of the way, grabbed his robes, and pulled him into his waiting sword. After the priest breathed his last pained breath, Syler let him go and pulled his sword free. The way up was now clear, but Syler didn't take any chances that there might be more of them and kept his attention focused ahead. A hand clapped his shoulder and he heard Growald's voice say, "Good work, son. Those priests warn't no holy men. The Angvardi train some o' their priests as assassins and they are usually pretty good." He chuckled at himself. "They are quite zealous in pushin' their faith onto others, even if it means killing them." "I don't care, we need to get out of here," said Syler through clenched teeth. "We need to meet up with the others, assuming there are any. They should be done with their tasks by now, though the presence of these here isn't a good sign." With a shrug, Syler continued up the stairs and into the main Temple tower. What they emerged into was absolute chaos. As they cautiously worked their way to the front doors, they encountered bodies and random destruction at almost every corner. Most of them were of priests or Shalktra, but there were several Sei who had met their deaths among the bodies of their foes. Blood was everywhere, as were scorch marks from fire. Syler even spotted a few places where the stone itself had been melted. When he put his hand up to touch the stone, he could feel the warmth emanating from it. Growald didn't seem fazed by the carnage around them, but continued to push them forward while tightening a bandage around his wounded sword arm. Several of the women had grabbed bits of clothing or even some weapons along the way, though Syler didn't count on them contributing much to any fight in their weakened state. Bronwyn stayed close to him and he couldn't help but notice that Havert constantly moved around to ensure that she was always between the two of them. As they passed a room, Syler heard a noise inside and motioned for everyone to stop. With his sword at the ready and Havert at his back, he entered the room to investigate. Inside, cowering behind a plush fur chair, was a green robed priest. "Please, don't hurt me!" he cried out when he saw that he had been discovered. Syler looked at the man with a placid face and asked, "Did you know about the underground prison cells?" Beads of sweat formed on the priest's forehead as he answered in a quavering voice, "Yes, we all did. We built them after the tower had been constructed." Syler struggled to keep his voice even as he asked another question, "Did you know what happened down there to the women behind held by the Shalktra?" "It was necessary for the will of the Way," the priest said a little too quickly. Syler could tell that it was a conditioned response born of repetition and self delusion. The darkening of his eyes and his set jaw told the priest that it was the wrong thing to say. "Then your death is necessary for your crimes," replied Syler. His voice was void of warmth or mercy. This man was supposed to be a priest, a man of peace and religious guidance sent out to help people. Even if Syler didn't believe in the Way, he respected the right of others to believe in it. But after seeing what happened down below and finding out that the priests above were completely complicit in it, Syler was sickened. These men were just as guilty as the man who was torturing Bronwyn for sport. His fate would be the same. "No! Please have merc—" whatever else the priest was going to say was cut short by Syler's sword as it struck off the man's head. Before he even finished the swing, there was a rumble of thunder outside that was loud enough to be heard even within this stone tower. The floor shook for a few moments knocking things to the ground around them. Syler had heard of groundquakes before, but had never been in one and was a little stunned. He backed away from the priest's body trying to keep on his feet as the ground continued to shake around him. There was a loud clap of thunder that rattled the very stones around them and suddenly, there was nothing but pure darkness and the sounds of startled cries. * * * * * Imperial Palace Angvard City Angvardi Empire Princess Raella woke up screaming. Within moments, her maid, Ellis, was trying to push her way through the alarmed guards who had rushed to her side. The maid, once she got through, grabbed the princess' hand and asked, "What is it, my lady?" Raella wasn't quite sure. She stopped screaming to answer the question, paused to take a breath, and opened her mouth to reply. Before she could say anything, she completely forgot what it was she had been screaming about. She closed her mouth and blinked for a few seconds as though to clear her mind and remember, but nothing came. "I don't know," she said at last. The guards looked at each other in confusion, but said nothing. As soon as they saw that no harm had come to their ward, they bowed and left her chambers. Ellis looked concerned and pressed the princess a little farther, "Was it a bad dream?" "I truly don't know," the princess admitted with a blush. "All I remember was falling to sleep, then waking up screaming." This was not an uncommon occurrence. Raella was the eldest child of Empress Celienna and King Rael and, as magic ran deeply in both bloodlines, was gifted with magic herself. Despite being touched by magic, her gift was abnormal for the imperial and royal bloodlines. She was a clairvoyant, one whom was sensitive to events and people around her. She would never cast spells of destruction or healing, nor would she ever see the future or have skills in alchemy and the altercation of the natural world. Though many deemed it among the weakest of the magical gifts, Raella was extremely perceptive and was sometimes able to use it to her advantage. She was able to sense subtle things in people and events that none else could see and could use it to detect deception, honesty, loyalty, and many other traits. In the earliest of days during the ancient era, when magic was a little studied and highly mystical phenomenon, clairvoyants would often sense things at great distances or that were coming. They could not, however, see or sense the future even if on occasion, their insights allowed them to make accurate predictions of what would come. They frequently told of what they sensed happen from afar, be it a tragedy or a coming boon or some other great portend. Then, when news of that event arrived, those around the clairvoyants believed they had seen the future. Similarly, when a clairvoyant sensed a coming storm or an advancing army, they knew it would come and warned of its arrival before it happened. Because of that, early superstition had often confused clairvoyants with seers or prophets. It wasn't until detailed studies were conducted in the late ancient era that the differences between those gifts were defined. Despite that, the name "clairvoyant" remained to this day. When she was young, Raella often woke up after having nightmares. Sometimes, she would be sitting down perfectly happy, then burst into tears when she sensed tragedy or start laughing when she sensed something happy. Even now, when she was eighteen years old, she sometimes had trouble controlling her reaction when she sensed something particularly powerful. She had been getting better as she grew into her gift and received teaching, but only a master of clairvoyance was able to completely control what they felt or even block things out. "It must have been a terrible thing to cause you to feel this way," Ellis commented. "Possibly. I really hope it wasn't a battle," mused Raella. She didn't like not knowing what had sent her into a fit. Even as a young girl, she would at least remember the feelings even if she couldn't interpret them. This was perplexing enough that she would have to seek advice from her tutor in the morning. She looked up at Ellis and offered a weak smile, "I am okay, Ellie, I really am. Go back to sleep." The maid wasn't entirely convinced, but there was no use arguing, not at this late hour. Maybe in the morning, the princess' memory would come back and all would be well. She offered a quick bow, then went back to her own room. * * * * * Governor's Palace City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut Governor Uthas was sitting in a comfortable chair drinking a cup of wine and enjoying fresh pork when a sound like thunder rattled his glass. That was followed by the ground trembling below his feet causing one of the glasses to slide along the edge of his table and crash to the ground. The shaking lasted no more than fifteen seconds during which he finished the rest of his cup and sat back with a content smile. "Ahhh, so the rabble has taken the Temple," he said calmly and without a rush. "It would seem so, my lord," replied a man standing behind him. "It seems, he has completed the next step," the governor added. "Just as you predicted, my lord." It was a good day, a very good day. Not only did those damnable Shalktra get a bloody nose, but he had helped move destiny along as planned. He had done so much preparing and planning to get to this very night and he couldn't help but to feel good about himself. Even if he were to die tonight, he would have done something that few could ever say they had accomplished: he had brought about prophecy. "You know what comes next." It was a statement, not a question, because they had already discussed this in length. The moment the warrant came to his attention, Uthas had summoned his best operative and given him very specific instructions. Everything had to play out exactly according to plan for it to all work and so far, it was. He laughed at the blind foolishness of the Terulans who thought they were the masters of intrigue. They thought that they could come into his domain and steal the Master of Magic right from under his nose. They thought he was just some ignorant bureaucrat stationed to a barbaric little outpost in the uncivilized West and dismissed him. "Such arrogance," he said aloud. Numerous sages had taught him everything they knew—right before he killed them to keep them from reporting that fact. He had learned of the prophecy regarding the seer from Zazasp and had sought this position. While the foolish Shalktra had been seeking the seer for a month, he had known her exact identity for months now and had kept a watchful eye on her. Her oblivious husband had received more than his share of high paying jobs for the governor's office or the Temple itself because he wanted to keep a close eye on him should he turn out to be connected to everything somehow. Now it was all paying off. He had taken numerous calculated gambles and now, at last, the sign had come that he was on the right path. All he had to do was make a few more moves and everything would be finished. He was fully aware of the pitiful band of Sei malcontents that had been growing more and more bold over the last few weeks. When he received word of this warrant from the Shalktra, he had seen the potential it had of stirring them into open violence. Despite multiple complaints from Captain Sosar, he had allowed it. Even more, he had ordered extra patrols along the farmlands that surrounded Kubei under the guise that he was concerned about rogue Kuti raiders stealing or burning the crops. Only the smallest of security force was left in the city and would not be able to mount any sort of counterattack on the Sei who he guessed would try to free the women. After all, it wouldn't do to flush out the Master of Magic only to get him killed trying to escape. He had to admit, he hadn't seen the riots that the rebels had staged. People were angry enough over the crowded quarters and the forced marriages, but the arrests had sent them over the top. Now that they were raging at various parts of the city, he had to admit that he had been a fool not to think of it earlier. If anything, he was surprised that the rioters had waited this long to strike, but now attributed it to the workings of whatever leaders the rebels had among them. "Go now," he said to his operative, "intercept him before he gets out of the city." "What of the priests that were in the Temple?" the operative asked. Uthas arched a single eyebrow, "What of them? They were necessary sacrifices for the greater good. The gods will reward them in the afterlife." "Forgive me, my lord," the operative said with a bow, "I did not mean to question you." "Go then, see that nobody gets in your way," the governor commanded. "I will see you when this is all done. Succeed and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest imaginations, fail me and you will be like one of those priests: a necessary sacrifice."
  3. This chapter isn't too long, but it is about 2/3 new material, both at the beginning and the end. I really wanted an opportunity to show Uthas being the badness he is as well as to show off a little bit of magic. Obviously, he is creating the spell that we see used later on Bronwyn, so that isn't too much a surprise. I also wanted to show a little more of how he is manipulating things, even at how he is fully aware of who Syler and Bronwyn are (or at the least, is waiting for Syler to confirm himself) and is now using this opportunity to his advantage just like he always does. Then, I wanted to show a bit more transition between Syler, Havert, and Alltis. I always felt that Havert was just along for the ride and dragged Alltis with them like it was a simple thing to be forced to abandon their lives and go on the run. I wanted to give a little more interplay on how that developed as well as to show how much Syler has accepted Bronwyn into his life just as I showed how she took him into hers. I like both of these additions and think they provide valuable input. _______________ Chapter 14 Those gods cursed Terulan fools have just undone months of work with their heavy handed and blatantly conspicuous arrests. Already, there is a great deal of unrest among the population that is just waiting for a spark to set them off. The Shalktra should have been more subtle when they went about kidnapping women from their homes and off the streets while leaving a trail of bloody and infuriated husbands in their wake. — Archpriest Ganatoa of Kubei Governor's Mansion City of Kubei Angvardi Province of Kut August 28 Governor Uthas threw the paper into the fire without a word. His free hand was clenched tightly and the muscles in his chiseled jaw were bulging in consternation. His most trusted operative stood silently at attention as he had since delivering the message to his master. He did not flinch when Uthas slammed his fist down on his desk and exclaimed, "Damned bastards!" Uthas's fiery gaze fell upon his servant and he asked, "You are sure they picked her up in the sweep?" The operative did not hesitate or even blink when delivering his response, "I witnessed the arrest personally, my lord. There is no doubt that they have her." "How did they know about her?" he demanded. He had been forced to sign the warrants, but they had not specified any names. "I do not know, but your other servants are looking into it. It will be a difficult task as they have not yet infiltrated the Shalktra's ranks, but it will only be a matter of time." "Time that we do not have, I fear," the governor murmured before pounding his desk again. "Has there been any trouble or interference?" The operative smiled beneath his hood. "There has been a particularly outraged guardsman who has been stirring up resentment and animosity among the guards against the Shalktra." Uthas' lips pressed together in a thin smile of his own. "Yes, well, let us hope that this mere guardsman doesn't get himself into too much trouble. Make sure he plays his part and all will work out. We don't want to act too soon nor do we want to miss our opportunity." The governor tapped his finger against his pursed lips before saying, "This is a delicate time for us. You are sure that he loves her? That is a critical and key element in all of this." "I am as sure as I can be that he does indeed loves her. More importantly, I believe the feeling is mutual," the operative replied. That brought a smile to Uthas' face. "All the better. The stronger the bond between them, the more likely he will do what is needed. Are you ready to do your part?" "Of course, my lord, it will all be dealt with as you requested. Does this mean we are to proceed with our plans at this point?" "Not yet," replied Uthas with a finger raised in caution. "Do not act yet. We are not yet sure that he is the right one. He must first act of his own accord before verification can be made. Don't worry, the signs will be unmistakable." "As you wish. I will be ready whenever you give the word." Uthas pulled a key from an inner pocket in his vest. The key, of a rare three pronged design, was expertly inserted into a steel safe beside the governor's desk. The safe itself was not only protected by a complex lock and six inches of reinforced steel, but also by magical barriers and wards the type that only a sorcerer at his height could conjure. The key, coupled with Uthas' own magical presence, worked to allow the door to slowly open. Uthas pulled out a small, leather bound book and closed the safe. After checking to make sure the door had latched and the barriers had reformed, he sat back in his chair and flipped through the book until he reached what he was looking for. While he read the page, his fingers absentmindedly worked their way over the gilded text on its spine that spelled out The Prophecies of Drow Pon. When he was finally satisfied, he closed the book and set it down on his desk. "Bring me Meltorith." His operative slammed his fist over his heart so loudly that the sound could be heard across the room and then set off to fulfill his master's wishes. As soon as he was alone, Uthas cast a ward over his office to ensure absolute privacy against all forms of eavesdropping or intrusion. Confident in his security, he was finally able to get to work. Magic flowed from him as he crafted a spell that he had been preparing for years. Countless late nights and early mornings with his nose buried in one book or another had led him to this point. Even for sorcerers of his skill, there were certain areas of magic that were difficult to perform, much less master to the degree that he needed them. A mage would have no hope of ever conjuring the necessary powers to accomplish this. Not even a wizard would find much success in this area. It was a field of magic that only sorcerers and their female counterparts could ever hope of wielding, but so few ever bothered. What he was doing would be labeled reprehensible and abominable by his former colleagues in the Conclave of Sorcerers back in Ravest. If he were found out by the wrong individuals, not even his position as governor of an Imperial province would protect him. While he had to admit that there was a time when even he would have blanched at what he was about to do, he had long since transcended such petty concepts as morality and what was good and proper. He did what he could do for the reasons he chose to do them for. If the gods truly wanted him stopped, they would do so. That they hadn't and had, in fact, led him to find the exact materials needed to complete his task told him that they recognized his supremacy and his inherent right to do what he was doing. If the gods had created magic and had gifted certain individuals with their magical abilities, why then was it wrong to use it? He had been given the gift to perform such spells so he would do so simply because he could. There were some very messy things that had to be done to ensure the world was not destroyed by the Coming Darkness. The gods had placed him, Uthas of Ravest, in the unique position with the unique knowledge and unique powers to do what was necessary to ensure the world's continued existence. If, in the process of all his personal effort and sacrifice, he were to emerge from the Coming Darkness as the ruler of most or all of Teladia, why was that wrong? He put the time and effort into learning what was necessary and spent much in the pursuit of his goals and prophecy, why should he not benefit from that? Mighty conquerors throughout history enjoyed the fruits of their conquests by becoming kings and emperors, so why was he any different? He was not. When this was over, he would deserve what perks and benefits that resulted. It was only right and proper. After all, it was the gods that either allowed the Coming Darkness to occur or were too weak to prevent it themselves. They needed mortals to contribute, and Uthas would be one of the chief contributors. Tendrils of energy flowed from him as he drew the arcane symbols out on a large piece of vellum spread out over his desk. Sweat dripped down from his forehead as he concentrated on each and every element of this spell. Many of his trusted servants had been sacrificed in the sands of the Eascand Desert on this quest before the ancient book could be brought before him. It was a costly venture, but it was worth it. It took him weeks to memorize every nuance of this spell, but it would still take time to enact it. For more than an hour, he worked furiously both chanting and drawing the spell form. Each element had to be perfect for the spell to work, no mistakes could be made or he would have to try again. The energy requirements for this were too great for him to be able to simply start over. He would have to wait for at least a day before being able to start over and he simply didn't have time for that. If he was correct, events would start unfolding rapidly now. The world had waited millennia for this and now that the time was upon them, it would come like the onset of a prairie thunderstorm with great speed and violence and lacking any mercy for those caught unaware. Change was coming and it would catch many unaware. The fools in charge of the Way thought they had time to fulfill their Unification, but Uthas knew they did not. Drow Pon had seen events that would lead up to the end and only Uthas had been wise enough to piece it all together. Uthas stood up from his chair. The excessively complex symbols, colors, and words had been transposed upon the vellum as was required. Each word had been spoken at the correct time. Every gesture had been performed. All was ready except the receptacle to hold the spell itself. Uthas reached back into his safe and pulled out a small pendant. The chain was of pure gold, but the pendant was not made of metal. Instead, it was made of the purest, most clear and flawless glass that had been formed into an intricate set of loops and swirls all making a pattern whose purpose and meaning even Uthas didn't know. It had been found with the book containing the spell he was now performing. He was momentarily transfixed at the beauty of such a device, but time was of the essence and he had to move quickly or all would be lost. He dragged a small stand in front of his desk and gently placed the pendant upon it. After walking back behind his desk, he placed both of his hands at the appropriate places on the vellum and allowed the full extent of his power to flow into the spell. Light snarled and flared while an unseen wind began to swirl around his office. Papers flew off of their shelves and smaller objects crashed to the ground, but Uthas ignored it all. As he spoke the arcane words of sorcery, the markings and symbols upon the vellum glowed in an intense light then floated off of the lambskin they had been written upon. For a few moments, the light tracings of the ink hovered out in front of Uthas in perfect stillness. Then, without warning, the symbols and the shapes and the words all began moving in a pattern too complex for Uthas to follow. One by one, the shapes folded into each other and the words disappeared into the newly constructed shapes. When all the words had disappeared, the newly formed shapes grew in intensity until he could no longer look upon them. There was the sound of rushing wind and suddenly, the glowing figures turned as black as the darkest moonsless midnight. All of the light within the room was absorbed into the magical construct as the wind howled around it. Finally, now that the spell had managed to receive its attunement and direction, it was ready to be received by its temporary vessel. Though he couldn't see it, Uthas knew that the hovering symbols would eventually work their way into the glass pendant and waited patiently until the work was complete. It was never wise to rush magic, especially magic this dangerous. At last, light began to slowly return to his office. Uthas continued to wait until the last elements of the spell had been absorbed by the pendant before he moved from his position behind his desk. When he at last did, he picked up the transformed pendant and marveled at what he had wrought. Instead of being crystal clear, the glass that made up the pendant was now a swirling haze of blood red and black that constantly shifted as though it were oil and water being stirred by an unseen hand. The pendant was not the only thing changed, either. The gold chain it had been on was now black as midnight. His work here was now complete, so it was time to withdraw the barriers and wards he had placed. With the charm in hand, he opened his doors to find Meltorith waiting patiently as ordered outside his door. "My lord governor, you requested my presence?" "Yes, I did." "My lord," said Meltorith with concern clear on his face, "you do not look well. I could feel the power coming from your office. Do you require some of my energy?" Uthas waved the offer away. "Not this time. You are going to need all of your strength. I have business in the Temple and I am going to need you to help me." Unhesitatingly, the mage bowed his head, "As always, I am forever in your service." * * * * * Syler and Bronwyn's House City of Kubei Angvardi Province of Kut Despite the late hour and the lack of light, Growald found Syler pounding away at his forge as though there were no tomorrow. He grunted in surprise and briefly wondered what his neighbors thought of the noise he was making at this time of night. It didn't matter much to him, he didn't care about anyone here except Syler and right now, he didn't look to be one that would be dissuaded from his passionate work for something so trivial. "Well, ya got my attention," he said gruffly. "Ya have one minute before I walk away." Syler didn't stop pounding away at whatever he was working on, but his pace did slow down a little. "I assume you are angry about what happened yesterday." The sergeant shrugged. "Doesn't bother me personally, though one of my men had his wife taken and that doesn't make me exactly happy." "What are you going to do about it?" "Don't know yet. We aren't ready to do anything ourselves, but the way things are shaping up, we might not need to. Rumor has it that a bunch of the Angvardi includin' yer pet guard are putting up a major fuss about the whole thing. Could be that they will take care of things all on their own." Syler scoffed at that. "We both know that isn't going to do anything." Growald's eyes narrowed, "Do we now? Well, I suppose you would know as you have the closest ties with them of any of us." Syler stopped pounding on the metal contraption and placed it into a trough of water to cool. At last, he turned around and looked at the man whom he had knocked out last time they met. The look in his eyes and on his ashen face sent a chill up the battle hardened warrior's back. If he were going to put a finger on it, he would say that there was determination mixed with manic desire on his face. Such a combination could make for a very dangerous man, though dangerous to whom was the question. "What if I can give you an opportunity to strike at the heart of the Angvardi and rescue the women?" "I am listening," replied Growald said with a smirk. Syler gestured to what he was working on and said, "This is meant for the Temple. The Angvardi want to put a lamp at the top and I am building its holder." "That is all well and good of you, helping out our captors and all. What does that have to do with our situation, or have ya completely lost your mind?" "That is just one small piece of it, the rest is behind me," said Syler while gesturing to a much larger collection of metal, some pieces of which were eight feet tall. "Imagine how large this is going to be when it is finished and assembled. It is also a moderately complex device, so as its maker, I will have to be the one who pieces it together." Growald stared at him with a blank expression on his face. "So, you are making a really big present for the very people who allowed your wife, whom I know you love because you beat me to a pulp over her, to be captured and are protecting her captors. I think your minute is up, you are insane." Syler rolled his eyes and said with exaggerated slowness, "It is meant for the Temple. The same Temple where they are holding my wife and where the Shalktra are headquartered. The same Temple where the priests who demanded all of us be transplanted here as part of their 'Unity' project are staying. The same Temple whose construction is the central focal point and crowning achievement of the Angvardi in this city." Midway through that explanation, realization had dawned across Growald's face. His eyes grew wide and any humor or disgust faded to nothing. "I see your point. What do you have in mind?" "It will take me at least three more days to finish this alone," explained Syler. "If I have help, I can probably finish it in two days. Once it is finished, I will tell the overseers at the Temple who hired me. They will want it installed, but I will display extra zeal for the cause and bring it to the Temple with a small group of men eager to display their submission to the Way by offering to install it. We get into the Temple supposedly to set the holder up and along the way, you and your men do what you have always wanted to do and kill a bunch of Haresu. I don't care about the details as long as the women are found and freed and I get my wife back." "You are assuming they are still alive." The look that came over Syler's face caused the sergeant to take an involuntary step backward despite being half a head taller than him. "If they are not," said Syler, "then may the Elements have mercy on their souls because I will kill as many of them as I have to in order to satisfy my rage." Growald nodded somberly and said, "I believe you." He remembered the last time they met and almost felt sorry for anyone who got in this blacksmith's path once his dander got well and truly up. "Can you get weapons and men willing to fight? I don't think I can get in more than a few men, so the rest will have to wait outside to block off reinforcements from the Angvardi guards." Growald worked his jaw back and forth a bit as he contemplated his resources. "Yea, we got weapons and I think I can get a good forty or so men to fight. I have been hoping to attack the Temple for some time, but I didn't see any way to get past the doors due to those magical barriers. If you can get some of us in, I think we can surprise them and open those doors from the inside which would negate the barriers. They would never expect someone to get through their defenses and won't be prepared for an ambush from within." "And what of the Angvardi?" pressed Syler. "There are well over three hundred guards within the city." "Don't you worry much 'bout them. I can arrange things to where they'll be too busy focusin' their attention elsewheres to mount any sort of effective response." Syler considered for a moment before nodding. "Then we have a deal," he said as he offered his hand. "Yes, I think we do," Growald replied as he took it and they shook hands. "Welcome back to the fight, brother." Alltis and Havert came by that morning to check on their friend. What they found was a man fervently at work in his forge. "Heya Syler," said Havert hesitantly. Neither of them were too sure how they would find him after their last encounter with him. Syler didn't pause his work, but he did say in a hoarse voice, "Hello. I am slightly busy right now. Have you talked with Growald yet?" "Naw, we hadn't seen him yet. Why, did ya beat him to a pulp again?" Syler chuckled, but that was the only reaction and he kept his eyes on his work. "No, not this time. We have come to an…understanding. I was wondering if you know when my help is coming." "Help?" asked Alltis. "What do you need help with and why would Growald help you?" Syler's jaw stuck out a little in defiance as he replied, "I am going to get Bronwyn from the Shalktra, and I am not going to be alone when I do it." "Whad's that supposed ta mean?" Syler lowered his hammer and stared at Havert with eyes as fiery as his forge. "It means that Growald and his little band of unrepentant soldiers and I are going to kill everyone in that damn temple that stands between us and the women they captured." Havert gulped and looked at his wife. "Uhh, isn't that a bit extreme?" he asked. The hammer rang out particularly loudly in Syler's white knuckled grip. "They took her, Havert. They took my wife!" He turned to them and launched into a tirade with his hoarse but passionately furious voice. "I tried to behave, I tried to fit into their society. It was them who started this, not us…not me. They invaded our homes and I fought them, sure. When we were defeated, I meekly gave up and allowed them to have their way with us." Spittle was flying from his mouth as he shouted, but he didn't care, his anger was too much. "I let them lead me all but into slavery here and didn't offer any resistance. I played by their rules and did what I was told to do." He slammed his hammer indiscriminately against the hunk of iron he had been working on. "Was that enough for them? NO! They let me come to love my fellow prisoner just before deciding to take her from me. Those treacherous, vile little bastards came into my home looking for my wife, the very same wife they demanded I marry as part of their gods damned Way! I watched as they dragged her through the streets in chains! They attacked me, Havert. Them. Not me, them. They started this and I am going to finish it one way or another. They may win this war, but I sure as Chaos am not going to let them win it without a fight." "Calm down, Syler," pleaded Alltis with outstretched hands. "We are not your enemies." "I am not going to calm down," he snapped back. "Not until I have her back." Despite his words, he was exhausted and the heat of the moment was cooling. "We understand, Syler," said Havert hesitantly. "We're gonna help ya however we can, but ya need to let me know what ya need." Syler's eyes darted back and forth between the two of them before he said, "I want you to find any smiths or even apprentices that you can trust and see if they can come here to work. I must finish this but I didn't sleep at all last night and I can hardly stand straight." He silenced the protest forming on Havert's tongue with another glare. "I need to do most of the complicated work, but there are plenty of things that I can quickly explain to others so they can work while I am sleeping. Growald said he would try to get some help, but what he offered were unskilled laborers. They can help and are gathering some things I need, but I must have another smith that can work while I cannot." "Um, sure, I think I know someone," mumbled Havert when it became clear that Syler was done. "I will pay him whatever he wants as long as he helps." "I can make sure you have food so you don't have to cook," offered Alltis. At Syler's nod, she added, "We will do whatever we need to help you." Syler swallowed heavily and, with visible effort, forced his hand to release the hammer he had been holding with a death grip. "Thank you both." His voice, while still ragged from exhaustion, wasn't as biting as it had been. "Bronwyn and I will need you both." "Whatya goin' ta do if ya git her?" asked Havert. "We are leaving Kubei. I will take her away from here and make our way west to search for Karusa. It won't be easy, but she knows about my ultimate plan to leave here and wanted to come with me. After this, I don't think there will be any doubts or hesitation from her." "Are you sure that is wise?" Alltis asked softly. "They will hunt you down and throw you into slavery if they catch you." Syler grimaced. "There is no other choice for us. If we stay here after what is about to happen, we will be executed regardless. Anyone who helps us is likely to get the same treatment, so you two need to be prepared. If any word leaks of you helping me find a smith, they will probably throw you both in prison or worse." Havert laughed a little. "Oh, they gonna do far worse ta me if they find me. I'm gonna be fightin' with you." "Growald told you of our plan?" "Naw, but if ya are goin' to be fightin' yer way in, I'm gonna be at yer side." This alarmed Alltis who grabbed her husband's arm and asked imploringly, "Are you sure, dear?" The redhead turned to Alltis and took her in his arms. He pressed his forehead against hers and said, "Syler is ma best friend. He's been watchin' out for me for all ma life. He has never left me when I needed him, so I ain't gonna leave him when he needs me. I am sorry, love, but I can't just be sittin' back while he fights. Ya knew when I joined up with Growald that I'd havta fight someday. Welp, now that day is here and I gotta fight." "That may be, Havert," warned Syler, "but you aren't going to be fighting just soldiers. There will also be priests there. I am not setting out to kill priests, but if they get in our way they will die like the rest of the Shalktra. Can you live with yourself if you have to kill a priest of your own religion?" Havert took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Welp, I figure that if them priests are helpin' the Shalktra in capturin' and holding women, then they ain't really good priests. The Way ain't supposed ta be about conquerin' and enslavin' people, it is about worshipin' the Tetrarchy. I don't much like how they ha been actin' of late and I think it's 'bout time someone does somethin' about it." "If you can handle it, I would be glad to have you along," replied Syler. "Every man we can get means we are more likely to not just get the women, but get out of there alive. Just beware that you are probably going to have to leave the city if you are actually fighting." His eyes fell upon a nervous looking Alltis. "You two should talk about this more. If you don't want to commit, I am not going to think any less of either of you. Helping me here is enough to fulfill your obligations as friends, I am not going to expect you to both be willing to simply pick up and leave on my behalf." "Thank you," she said in gratitude. "I am not set against it, but I would like to have time to talk to my husband alone and to see if we can scrape enough together to make such a thing feasible." Syler nodded in understanding. "You are both welcome to travel with Bronwyn and I. We have been preparing for some time and I have a good amount of money saved up. We will be needing food, though, something that I don't have time to arrange." "We'll see 'bout settin' that up," said Havert. "'Til then, we need ta get goin' and find that smith of yours." "I will be here working. Talk to Growald if you decide to fight. Again, if you do not, I will not hold it against you."
  4. Chapter 13 up for ya now. Few changes here, but I did lop off the end of this and merge it into a mostly new Chapter 14 with an extra Governor Uthas scene that I am really proud of. Finish this and I will throw up the next chapter that is about 3/4 new material. _________________ Chapter 13 Beware his righteous wrath, for once it is summoned, it cannot be undone except through the destruction of his foes. The Master of Magic masters not just the arcane, but also the powers of the physical world. — unknown prophet, 92 of the Second Age City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut July 21 The next morning, Bronwyn rose without a word leaving Syler in bed and busied herself with breakfast. As dawn gave way to late morning and the sun rose higher in the sky, Syler didn't wake up but remained sound asleep. Whatever had happened to him last night was bound to take a lot of his energy away. As she toiled, she puzzled at what would be able to heal him as completely as he had been healed without her noticing it. She would have seen a healer perform healing spells on him as most required physical contact to do so. She had heard of some who could heal at a distance, but it was very rare. She also had to wrestle with the fact that she had been given a kvastat, had known once more that it was Syler in it, and it had come to pass the very next day. She had only once had a kvastat that revealed itself that quickly, and it was about nothing more important than an unexpected thunderstorm. She didn't know what it was, but there was something about Syler that was affecting her abilities. Perhaps it was that she had been slowly falling in love with him, or perhaps it was something else entirely. What that something else could be, she didn't know. Had this happened as recently as a year ago, she would have been able to go to another clan and talk with one of their caetos kvastal who was older and wiser. She may have been able to guide her as to what all of this meant and answered her questions. As young as she was, Bronwyn was hardly aware of her abilities and had yet to learn much on how to control or understand them. Older, wiser caetos kvastal were sometimes able to actually guide their kvastat along specific subjects they wished to know more about and could better recall what happened in each vision. Sadly, the Haresu had killed all of the elder caetos kvastal and driven the rest into hiding to where even she couldn't find them. She was alone in this. There was an urgent sounding knock at the front door. When she answered it, she was glad to see Havert and Alltis standing there. "How is he? Any changes?" rambled Havert. He didn't let Bronwyn respond before continuing on, "I shouldn't a let him fight like that, it was stupid. If anything happened to him, I'd never forgive mrself. I didn't know that Growald could be like that, but I shoulda seen it. He never did like Sei who wasn't wantin' to fight like he does. Don't ya worry, Bronwyn, if anytin' happens to Syler, Alltis and I will make sure you are well—" "Havert!" interrupted Alltis, "Take a breath and let her respond." Bronwyn gave the other woman a quick smile. "First, come in out of the street." She stepped back to let them enter, then continued, "Second, Syler is fine. Better than fine, actually." "He woke up?" blurted Havert. She nodded, "Not just that, but he has no injuries." "What?" both of them said at once. Even the normally calm Alltis looked surprised. "Neither of us can explain it, but as I was cleaning the blood and dirt off of him, I couldn't find as much as a single cut or bruise. When he woke, he had no pain. He was a little weak, but other than that, he is uninjured at all." "How'd that be possible? He was beat so bad I didn't think he'd ever get up," asked Havert with an almost comically confused expression on his face. "As I said, neither of us know. The only thing I can think of is that a powerful healer healed him somewhere on the way back here," answered Bronwyn. She shrugged, "Right now, I don't care nearly as much about the how as I do with the fact that he is well and unhurt." "Where is he?" Alltis asked as she looked around. "We didn't see him outside at the forge." Bronwyn pointed to the bedroom, "He is asleep. He may be healed physically, but emotionally, I fear he is exhausted. I didn't wake him this morning because I want him to get all the rest he needs." Havert looked disappointed, but he didn't ask to see his friend. "I guess we'll get a goin'. I wanted to check on him ta see if he was okay." "He is," replied Bronwyn with a smile. "Thank you for coming. How is Growald? Syler beat on him pretty badly." Havert snorted, "He woke up last night and shook it off with nothin' more than a limp, though I bet he is in a heap o' pain. I would watch out for him, though. He ain't one who will take being humiliated lightly." "We are sorry this happened, and at our feast, too," said Alltis. "I feel like this is partly my fault." "No," Bronwyn assured her, "it is not your fault. Neither of us is angry with you two. Syler is not one to blame those who do not deserve it nor is he one to allow those to escape responsibility for their actions. This was Growald's doing and nobody else. He brought his shame upon himself." "Yea, that done sounds like Syler Penion ta me," said Havert. "Come, dear, we should leave before we wake him up," chided Alltis. She took Bronwyn's hand in both of hers and said, "If there is anything you need, please ask us. Syler means a lot to my Havert, we would be more than happy to do anything we can for him." "Thank you, but I think he will be fine with a little sleep and rest. I won't let him into the forge today." "Good luck with that," mumbled Havert. "He always was a stubborn one." Bronwyn smiled, "Perhaps, but I have my ways." "Yea," laughed Havert quietly as he looked longingly at Alltis, "wives do have their ways." His wife blushed and began shooing him back outside. "We need to go now, you have your rounds to make and I need to start getting your lunch ready. I still can't believe you manage to eat three meals a day without growing as fat as a cow." Bronwyn kept smiling as the two of them walked away arguing over proper eating habits and what was natural. They were a good couple and clearly loved each other despite being forced into marriage. She didn't know Alltis very well, but she did know enough to know that she, like her husband, was a true believer in the Way and accepted what had happened. Seeing them brought an ache to her heart that she knew would never go away. She had seen in Syler something she had seen in no other man. His presence in her kvastats was special, and the fact that both of the ones she had seen of him had him protecting her only served to confirm that. She had been growing more and more fond of him ever since the first night they were thrown together, but she hadn't realized exactly how much she had grown to care for him until he returned after their argument two nights ago. She had been expecting him to abandon her, but he didn't, he returned. Then, last night, when he had stepped up without hesitation to protect her honor and, ultimately, her purity, she had known that she loved him. He could have had her body, yet he didn't because he knew how much it meant to her and didn't share her feelings. Very few women would ever be able to find a man who would protect them with such fervor and still respect them as much as Syler did her. The only thing she could ask for was that he one day love her as she loved him, but she knew that might never happen. Last night, she had offered herself up to him and would have loved him no matter what decision he made. He respected her too much to view her as a conquest, a temporary indulgence in pleasure. She vowed that if he wouldn't have her, then nobody would have her. For as long as she lived, she would love him and expect nothing in return. She would give him leave to follow his heart if he were to ever love another woman, though it would hurt her. If he would come to love her in turn someday, she would embrace it wholeheartedly, but she would never demand it from him. City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut August 27 Over the next month, life returned to normal for the two of them. Syler quickly regained his strength and energy and was able to return to work. Havert and Alltis checked in frequently despite his insistence that he didn't need help. Bronwyn, for her part, spent much of her time in the forge learning from Syler. Though it was unorthodox for a woman, she wanted to learn about being a smith for more reasons than just to be near Syler. She realized that in her life, she really had no trade or skill that would allow her to help contribute to their income and livelihood. Until now, she had always been supported by her parents and the offerings from her people. Seeing how Syler refused to accept any charity and insisted on working as much as possible inspired her to want to do the same. After every day at the forge, she ached from the work. She had never been particularly strong because she had never needed to do anything other than to carry water buckets. Now, Syler had her lugging around heavy metal ingots, pulling endlessly on the bellows, or pounding sheets of iron and steel and it left her in pain every night. She bore it silently and without complaint, though she knew that Syler was aware of how she felt. He told her that it would take some time before her body got used to the strain. One of the things she did notice was how hungry she got in the middle of the day. Now, she joined Syler in eating lunch just so she could remain on her feet in the evening. As ridiculous as she had first thought it, eating lunches made sense and helped her feel so much better. Without her spending all her time preparing the meals, though, they had to eat light and quick. Rarely were their lunches warm, but they made due by preparing extra for dinner and saving some for the next day. Ever since the fight with Growald, they had grown even closer than before. She didn't have any more kvastat plaguing her dreams, but slept peacefully each night. They now slept together every night, though that was all they did. The cot she had exiled herself in had been packed up into a roll and left in a corner. For the longest time, she didn't want to sleep in the bed simply because it was her parent's bed, but now, with Syler there to hold her close, she looked forward to going to bed each night. After she had learned a little, Syler allowed her to start making simple things such as nails to help free him up for the more complex and demanding projects. She was thrilled whenever Syler said he was proud of her work and loved seeing him sell things she made to customers. Every time he complemented her growing skills, it reminded her of how her father would praise her when she was younger and brought back happy memories of her childhood. Syler, for his own part, seemed to enjoy having an eager student to teach. He had quoted his old master Mr. Fitno as saying "you are never truly a master at something until you can successfully teach it to someone else." He didn't consider himself a master smith by any means, but he did enjoy teaching her. It was almost dusk and they had been working on a particularly difficult order for none other than the Temple itself. The Haresu had wanted to add a large beacon to the top of it and demanded very particular specifications for its stand. Syler had been lucky enough to draw the attention of the right people and had been given the contract, though he always suspected that Lamastus was behind it. If they could finish it to the satisfaction of the Angvardi overseers, it would pay a handsome sum in silver. Syler was eager to complete the task because it would give him a very nice addition to their savings and bring him one step closer to being able to leave Kubei and return for his sister. "I am going to the butcher to get some bacon for breakfast tomorrow," said Bronwyn. It was Syler's turn to make supper, so he was in the kitchen tending the fire and preparing the food. "Okay, make sure you get some beef, too. I heard there was another herd brought in from the East and I would like to get some beef before it is gone." He had missed the ready access to beef that he had had back in Sandrin, so Bronwyn was always glad to get some whenever it was available. Cattle couldn't normally find enough food and water to survive in Kut, so their only access to it was when a trading caravan brought a heard from the pastures north of Lake Kart. "I will," she said and grabbed a few extra coppers before heading out. Syler was almost done with the baked chicken they were going to have for supper when the front door was kicked in. He didn't even have a chance to grab any usable weapon before three of the Shalktra stormed into his house with swords drawn. Another two came in from the door leading to the forge and grabbed his arms in a vice grip. Despite his cries of protest, the men broke into the bedroom and searched it before returning to the living room empty handed. "Where is Bronwyn Antoras of Eagoria?" one of them shouted at him. As soon as he heard her name, Syler's stomach roiled and he tasted bile in the back of his throat. It didn't take a master sage to figure out why they wanted her. "She isn't here!" he shouted. "Well, where is she?" "I don't know," Syler lied, hoping to stall them. "She hasn't been here all day." The Shalktra clubbed him across the jaw with an armored fist. "You lie, a witness saw her here working in your forge just hours ago." He reached into his belt and pulled out a wicked looking dagger and put it up against Syler's throat. "Now, I am going to ask you again, where is she?" If his death meant that Bronwyn had a chance for escape, he would willingly go to meet the Elements. It didn't even require any consideration: he was willing to sacrifice himself for her without second thought. He would go into the embrace of the Elements with only one regret—that he couldn't see his sister one more time. He remained silent and merely stared into the Shalktra's eyes in defiance before spitting in the man's face. The man gave him a sneer and pulled his hand back to slash Syler's throat when another voice shouted out, "That is enough, Terulan!" The Shalktra turned around as one to see who had dared interfere. To Syler's relief, he saw the grim face of Lamastus standing in his doorway with his sword drawn and at the ready. There was fire in his eyes and his jaw was set in determination. Syler had never seen him the normally cheerful man look so dangerous. Two other Angvardi guards were behind him also with their swords out and through the window, Syler thought he saw another two with bows and arrows nocked and ready with open fields of fire to both the front door and the forge. "How dare you interfere, guardsman," the Shalktra snarled. "You have no authority here. Your governor personally assured us of your cooperation." Lamastus wasn't going to back down, "On the contrary, your warrant said nothing about any of the husbands or friends. You are authorized only to take the women, nobody else." "I can take whomever I please as long as I believe they hold the information I seek." "That wasn't my understanding, nor was it the understanding of Governor Uthas. He will not tolerate you terrorizing even more of the population and ruining his attempts to bring Unity to this city." "My orders come from King Raul himself." "I don't care what Terulan they came from," snapped Lamastus as he tightened his grip on his sword. "I answer to the Empress of Angvard and to the governor of Kut. Now leave this man be or I am going to have to explain to my captain why there are five Shalktra bodies in my patrol zone." For a moment, Syler thought that the Terulans were going to attack, but they were trapped in the narrow confines of the house while the Angvardi were ready and could bottle them in at the two doorways and pick them off with archers as they tried to get out. The Shalktra snarled in frustration and shoved Syler back against the wall. He pointed directly at Lamastus and said in a biting tone, "Your superiors will hear of this, Angvardi. You had better pray that we find her because if we don't, I will personally be coming for your head." "Yea, you do that, we will be waiting." Lamastus kept a sharp eye on the five Terulans as they walked out of the house and started searching for Bronwyn elsewhere. He motioned for the other guards to follow them and helped Syler back to his feet. "Are you okay?" he asked. His jaw was still hurting from being hit, but beyond that, he was fine. "What is going on!" he demanded. "I am so sorry, I tried to get here before they did, but we weren't fast enough and I had to be careful what I told the other guards." Lamastus' brow was furrowed in consternation and he looked even more distressed than Syler felt. "That doesn't answer my question, why would the Shalktra be looking for Bronwyn?" He knew the answer, but he didn't want to let Lamastus know that he was aware of Bronwyn's secret. Friend or not, until he knew more of what was going on, he wouldn't take any chances. "The Shalktra think that there is a seer in the population here and they want her for some reason. I don't know what it is, but they have been poking around for the last few weeks and came up with a list of twenty or so women. They just got confirmation of their warrants from Governor Uthas and are going around arresting them." Syler's throat tightened, "Why do they think Bronwyn is a seer?" "No clue, but her name is on the warrant. I tried to get here as soon as saw that so I could warn you, but they beat me here. Where is she really? I need to get you both to safety." Syler knew there was such a thing as being too careful. If he delayed now, they might miss their only chance to get to Bronwyn before the Shalktra. "She went to the butcher to get some meat for tomorrow. She left a few minutes before the Shalktra broke in." Lamastus nodded, "We need to get to her before they do. Come on, let's go!" Syler didn't need to be told twice. They both ran out of the house and down the street that led to the market Bronwyn liked to shop at. There weren't many people left on the streets and Syler supposed that word of the arrests was spreading causing everyone to go home to check on their families. Nobody wanted to be on the streets and take the risk of being in the way of the Shalktra. Despite the clear streets, they were too late. A different group of Shalktra were taking her toward the Temple that served as their headquarters. She was shackled together with another Kuti woman surrounded by four of the Terulans. When Syler cried out her name, she looked up and he saw the blood on her face. Without thinking, he lurched toward her captors, but found his collar locked in a firm grip. "Not now, my friend," Lamastus said as he held his friend back. "There is nothing we can do for her here." Bronwyn tried to slow down, but was pushed forward by a Shalktra and cried out in pain. There was fear in her eyes and she was crying. The very sight of it stirred his heart while breaking it at the same time. It took all of his willpower not to break free from Lamastus' grip and launch himself against the four heavily armed and armored Terulans with no weapon but his fists. It would do no good for him to be killed here. Lamastus was right, there was nothing that could be done at this point. He watched helplessly with clenched fists as she was taken away. As soon as he saw that he wouldn't run, Lamastus let him go and said, "I will do whatever I can for her, Syler. I swear it." "What are they going to do with her?" Syler asked through clenched teeth. "I don't know. It may depend on how much she cooperates or what they are looking for. The warrant didn't say, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing." "Why isn't that? The Shalktra can do whatever they want with her and they don't have to release her!" "That may be, but at least the warrant didn't specify that the prisoners be executed afterwards," noted Lamastus. "Though knowing the Shalktra, they would take great pleasure in killing them, but that is where the Governor comes in. If Uthas thinks that killing the women would cause too much of a disruption in his city, he will stop them. He is the key here, Syler. Many of the guards feel as I do and want the Shalktra to burn in Chaos for what they did during the wars. My voice won't be alone, but I urge you, give me time. Don't do anything stupid." Syler didn't know what he could do right now. They already had her and it was very unlikely that the Angvardi would ever let him into the Governor's Mansion to speak with Uthas himself. Lamastus said little as they walked slowly back to his house. He seemed to be just as angry as Syler himself and continuously swore that he would take action and do something about this. It helped Syler to see that someone else cared, but as soon as the Angvardi left, he felt alone in the empty house. The chicken he had been preparing had burned, so he threw it out and munched only on a few vegetables that weren't too mushy. That night, as he was laying in bed, he missed Bronwyn's presence next to him. Over the last few weeks, he had gotten used to her sleeping with him and enjoyed the closeness. Now, he was alone, left to imagine the torments she might be going through in the Shalktra's dungeons. The Shalktra had been headquartered within the towering Temple itself, though he didn't know exactly where. He had never been inside the Temple and had no idea what it was like, but he didn't imagine that wherever she was being held was very welcoming. He got little sleep that night, but kept tossing and turning. His mind wouldn't shut down, but kept envisioning everything that he might have done differently. He should have left Kubei with her earlier, shortly after the Shalktra arrived. He should have offered to go with her to the butcher. Maybe then he could have held them off while she escaped. There were scenarios floating through his mind with various outcomes, not all of which were good. He was not deluded enough to think that he could have taken the four of the Shalktra that took her any more than he could have defeated the five that came for her here in their house. Laying there, he began to search his own heart. He had known Bronwyn for a little over two months now. They had lived together, worked together, eaten together, laughed together, and cried together. He had never resented her being forced upon him and didn't think she did either. It was the fault of the Angvardi and their ridiculous religion that uprooted both of their lives and threw them together. It wasn't bad at all, but it wasn't necessarily what he wanted to do with his life. But something had happened to them both. Though they were initially simply a man and a woman forced to live together, they had formed a friendship, a bond of sorts. He had no problems being friends with Bronwyn because she was an honest, hardworking woman who strove to do what was right. He had known that she was fond of him, but until the night that he fought Growald, he had never known that she had grown to love him. He had to admit, even then, a month ago, he had come to love her in a fashion. Not as a wife, but as a friend just as he loved Havert. He would have done anything for either of them and proved it on that night by standing up to Growald. On that night, he refused her offer of herself because he couldn't give her a fair trade. She offered complete and total love, but he couldn't match that. It wouldn't have been right to do that to her, so he didn't accept what she offered. He hadn't regretted the decision and Bronwyn never showed any signs of resentment. If anything, it made her more comfortable around him. In the past month, though, things had changed and he hadn't even noticed it. It took having her gone for him to see just how much he cared for Bronwyn and it was more than just as a friend. Seeing her dragged away felt like having a piece of his own heart ripped out. He had been a fool over the last month not to realize what had been growing within him, and now he may never see Bronwyn again. He had been too resistant to acknowledge anything that the Angvardi had done in declaring them man and wife, too stubborn to admit that perhaps, fate had meant for them to be together, and too scared to see what was there before his eyes. His rejection of anything Angvardi or part of the Way had caused him to reject even the possibility of anything more than friendship with her. Now, the pain he was suffering could only mean one thing. He loved Bronwyn, and more than just as a friend. It took not having her here for him to realize how much he needed her in his life. The realization of his own foolishness brought tears to his eyes. For hours, all he could do was reflect back on the last month and see all the missed opportunities he had to simply tell her that he loved her, to be the husband she so clearly wanted, and to give her the companionship she needed after all of her years of isolation. When the first rays of dawn disturbed his thoughts, he groaned and got out of bed. He was exhausted, but there was no way he was going to get sleep now that it was light outside. He didn't know what to do because he had no motivation to work or even prepare breakfast. He wandered around the house picking things up and putting them down for a time, then found himself walking down the street toward Havert's house. When he knocked on the door, it took a couple of minutes for anyone to reply. Alltis answered the door and, upon one look at the bags under his bloodshot eyes and his haggard appearance, called urgently for her husband. Havert came running when he heard his wife's startled voice and took the scene in with one quick glance. "What happened?" he asked, not bothering to play around. Syler almost couldn't speak the words, but he managed to choke them out, "They took her." Havert let loose a string of curses that would have ordinarily made Syler's toes curl, then apologized to his wife for it. "We heard 'bout the raids from Tald last night. Everyone is furious over it. Growald is spittin' fire and using this to show how not even the Haresu honor their own religion and rules." The mention of his nemesis caused Syler to grimace, but he didn't say anything. Alltis gently gripped his forearm and said warmly, "Come inside, Syler, let me get you something to eat." He allowed himself to be led into their house. It wasn't very different from his own, save that instead of a forge, he had a small place to put his wagon and horse. He sat down at their table and allowed Alltis to warm up leftovers from their breakfast in a pan while Havert sat with him providing whatever support he could. "I'm sorry, is there anythin' ya can do?" asked Havert. "Lamastus is going to try to get his superior to talk to the governor," Syler said in monotone. His eyes were staring out at nothing without any spark of life in them. Havert held back a snort of derision at the mention of the Angvardi for his friend's sake. They had never agreed with his friendship with the guard, but unlike some others, Havert wasn't going to allow that to harm their friendship. "I'm sure he will do his best." Syler didn't respond, but continued staring lifelessly. Alltis put some bacon and warm flatbread in front of him, but he didn't touch it. They didn't try to force him, but simply sat with him in silence out of respect for what he was going through. They sat there for a long time. It was strangely comforting to be in a house that had few memories of Bronwyn in it. She had been here a few times, but not as often as he had. Eventually, Havert had to leave to make his runs, but Alltis stayed with him. He didn't move or acknowledge what was around him, even when Havert left. She could not guess what dark places his mind went during that time, but it pained her to see him travel those dismal roads. "You truly do love her, don't you?" she commented softly. He didn't respond. "I am so sorry, Syler. I don't know what I would do if something happened to Havert. I have grown to rely on him so much since he came here. Without him, I would be lost. I truly wish that there was something I could do for Bronwyn." Havert came back from his transport runs later than usual because of his late start. The first thing he noticed was that Syler was still sitting where he had been earlier. He pulled his wife aside and asked, "Has he moved at all?" "No." There were worry lines across her face that had not been there this morning. "I don't know what to do, he is distraught and I think that he is losing himself. Has there been any news of those who were taken?" "Ya, the Angvardi Haresu ain't generally willin' to talk 'bout it, but I gather they ain't happy at all about last night. That Lamastus guy even tracked me down and told me that there was nothin' he could do at the moment, but that he's still tryin'. Said he looked for Syler at his house, but couldn't find 'im there and looked for me." "We have to do something, he can't live like this. He hasn't eaten or drank anything all day, I worry about him, and not just his body." "I don't know what ta do, love. I ain't never seen done him like this, even after the Haresu whooped us." "Maybe some of the others can help us—" "That's it!" Syler shouted. Alltis dropped the cup she was holding and both looked at him. "What is it?" Havert asked hesitantly. His friend jumped up and grabbed the redhead with both arms in an almost painful grip. "I know what to do, but I can't do it alone! I need you to have Growald meet me at my house as soon as possible." "What!" exclaimed Havert. He was chilled by the manic look in Syler's normally controlled eyes, but he didn't know what else to say. "I need Growald. Tonight. He will want to see me, believe me." Without another word, Syler bounded across the room and had left the house at a full sprint. Husband and wife shared confused looks, but Havert shrugged and said, "Well, he lost it. He has done finally gone off and lost his mind." "Havert!" Alltis said as she slapped his shoulder. "Do what he said. Go get Growald and tell him to meet him." "Have you lost ya mind? Growald would sooner crush him like a little bug than help him." "Maybe, maybe not. I do know that if you don't do as Syler says, you will forever lose him as a friend. He is desperate and whatever his mind has concocted is the only thing he seems to be holding on to. If you don't go to Growald, I will." "Okay, okay, I'll do it. Don't you say I didn't warn ya."
  5. Moving on to the big fight. This chapter didn't receive extensive edits, but it did have a good amount of material changed or added. I have grown in my writing so there were things I wanted to change and I also had to make some stuff fit in with previous changes. After a great amount of thinking, I have changed how I describe Syler going into his fury rage so that it might make more sense. Finally, I expounded a little more on Syler's reasons for not accepting Bronwyn's offer at the end. Hopefully that helps a bit more and still manages to remain out of sappy land. ______________ Chapter 12 And in the truest of Teladia's dark nights, when both of her children have hid their faces, the world shall receive the first sign of the glorious fury of magic's most powerful warrior. — Collection of Assorted Prophecies by High Prophet Legausir City of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut July 20 Syler woke to see Bronwyn's face with her green eyes studying him from just inches away. It startled him a bit so he jerked in surprise. His reaction elicited a smile from the Kuti woman. "Good morning, my husband." She was still half on top of him looking up at his face. The way she said that made his sleep addled mind wonder what exactly happened over the night. He blinked a few times and realized with relief that she still wore her nightgown and he still had his pants on. A few seconds after that and he remembered their conversation from the night before. "Ow," he moaned and gently moved to where Bronwyn's elbow was no longer jabbing into his side. He realized that it was far brighter outside than it should be and asked, "What time is it?" "It is two hours past dawn," she replied with another smile, "I would have gotten up, but I didn't want to wake you and you looked like you needed the sleep." It was not a good way to start the day, not after getting behind yesterday. "I need to get to the forge." He extracted himself from Bronwyn's arms, got out of bed, threw his shirt on, and started for the forge. If he didn't get the next three orders in, he would bring unwanted attention from the Angvardi workers who were needing them. If they grew angry enough to complain, it might bring a guard or two down and even if it didn't, it would get a negative notice of them floating around the officials. He had already gotten the forge heated up and the metal in the fire when Bronwyn came out with a quick breakfast of eggs. "I even paid for them," she said anticipating his question. "Poor Fwella looked at me like I was crazy when I gave her money for a dozen eggs." Syler wasn't going to say anything about payment, but he was pleased that she was willing to respect his wishes in this matter. She stayed with him in the forge helping out wherever possible so they could make up lost time. It was nice having her around even if giving her the instructions on what to do took almost as much time as she saved him by doing it. Syler managed to finish the projects, including the stable braces, but by the time the last of his work was completed, they were running late for Havert's feast. Bronwyn wouldn't allow them to go to such an event as they were and insisted on both taking a quick bath and changing into fresh clothes. Syler cleaned up the forge while Bronwyn was taking her bath. When she was finished, he took his while she got dressed in something special. Syler's jaw dropped when he emerged from the small washroom because Bronwyn was in a fine dress that he had never seen before. She wore a finely tailored dark green dress made of wool and a white embroidered chemise beneath. Syler had never seen her wearing anything but her plain shirt and skirt, or perhaps a plain light brown work dress so he couldn't help but stare. Her cheeks turned light pink when she noticed his attention, but she shooed him away urging him to get ready himself. Mumbling that he had nothing to compare to her simple yet elegant attire, Syler led the two of them out onto the streets in the direction of Havert's in-law's house at a rapid pace. They were late, but that didn't seem to dim Havert's exuberance at seeing them. Once they arrived, they were greeted by an exuberant Havert and led into the packed dining area. Syler assumed that Alltis' parents must have had some wealth or influence because their house was three times the size of the one that Bronwyn had and was able to have a separate dining room. Right now, that room was full with feasting revelers celebrating and feasting. Syler noted with some bemusement that the group was almost evenly split between Kuti with their fair skin and lighter hair and the generally darker skinned and dark haired Sei. Admittedly, most of the Kuti were women as the majority of the Kuti men had either been killed or exiled, but there were two older men that he hadn't seen before. He did recognize a few of the Sei, namely Growald, one of Havert's new friends. They had a good time eating and having light conversation. There were many people from both the Kuti and Sei people there and for once, race didn't seem to be an issue. Throughout the evening, Syler looked over at Bronwyn and was glad to see that she was having a good time. He didn't think he had ever seen her laugh as much as she was now. As the evening wore on, the conversation began to take a turn toward more serious subjects. If there was one thing that both the Kuti and the Sei had in common, it was the fact that they were both an occupied people who had no love of the Easterners. Syler kept trying to find a way to gracefully exit before he was targeted, but it was not to happen. "What about you, Syler?" Growald asked. "I haven't seen you around much. You aren't in league with the Easterners, are you?" With a silent groan, Syler prepared himself for a fight. "I have no love for the Angvardi," he said carefully. "That ain't what I have been told," taunted Growald as he nudged one of his friends conspicuously. "Word has it that you are pretty chummy with one of the Angvardi guards. I done even seen a bit o' that meself." He wouldn't deny it, "Yes, I have a friend among them, but that doesn't mean I support the Angvardi. Besides, liking foreigners doesn't mean I am doing anything wrong. Look at Havert, are we not here celebrating the very fact that he is going to have a child with a Kuti, our traditional enemy? Plenty of our number have accepted the Way, too, I don't see you lambasting them." "Hey!" interjected Havert. "There ain't nothing wrong with bein' a good husband. I'd be a lesser man if I didn't treat my dear Alltis with the respect 'n love she done deserves. The Haresu might think they are the chos'n ones of the Tetrarchy, but that don't make it so. We could follow the Way just as good under a Sei king as we can under them." "That's right, boy," Growald chimed in. The way he smiled at Syler reminded him of a cat preparing to pounce on a helpless mouse. "The Angvardi are confusing a few things if they think they are the destined ones to rule and administer the Way. The Kuti might have been our enemies, but they are in the same situation we are in. The enemy o' my enemy is my friend, eh? Besides, Havert here isn't shirking his duties to his kind. He has proven himself to be eager to serve." He glared pointedly at Syler, "I can't say the same about you." Syler took a deep breath and tried not to show how much Growald was getting to him. "I have no ill feelings toward you or your cause, but I have no desire to once again take up arms. I did so once when our king called, but he surrendered and I am no longer bound to my oaths to fight in his name." It was exactly the answer that the warrior was wanting. "And why is that? Do you think that your duty to your country ends just because our king was forced to surrender? This isn't the first time that we have lost a king, yet our ancestors didn't just give up. Do you not want to see your country free again?" Syler shook his head, "No, that isn't it at all. I would very much like to see the Sei free of Eastern control, but I do not see the point in trying to fight them here." "If not here," Growald said while gesturing to the town around them, "then where? If yar too cowardly to take up arms here, why would you take them up anywhere else? It is a good thing that our ancestors warn't like you or our people would have been destroyed long ago." The table grew quiet as everyone wanted to hear his response. Such an intentional insult was not something that could be taken lightly. Syler made the mistake of glancing over at Bronwyn to see her reaction. "Ahh," his adversary laughed, "so you have grown attached to the local flavor, I see. What is the matter, boy? Afraid that you might get hurt and not be able to crawl back to your sweet little toy? She must truly be talented to cause you to abandon your duty to your people." For the second time in two days, Syler's temper flared. In a sudden move, he stood up and pounded the table in the traditional acceptance of the challenge. He had wanted to avoid being angered and goaded, but the Elements seemed to have other plans for him. If Growald had just been insulting him, he would have taken it, but he would not stand by and see him insult Bronwyn, not like this. Growald had wanted a fight from the start, and he was going to get one. "My friends!" Havert interjected with a nervous smile and outstretched hands trying to get between the two of them. "This is a time for celebration, not for fighting." "Stay out of this, Havert," Growald said as he stood up. "This is something that is between this Haresu and myself," he said using the insulting term to describe Syler. "Please, this isn't going to solve anything!" replied Havert with eyes widened in apprehension. Syler felt sorry for him, but he had known this confrontation was bound to happen sooner or later. The way Growald had taken an instant dislike of him and was so openly aggressive and offensive. There was going to be a fight, but Syler didn't want to destroy Havert's in-law's house. "Out of respect for our hosts, I propose we take this outside," offered Syler. With a sneer, Growald nodded, "Okay, I can live with that. Is your plaything going to watch? You may want her to stay inside so she doesn't see her master get beaten down." Syler didn't hear Havert's continued pleas as he looked over at Bronwyn. Her eyes met his and he didn't see anything but quiet resolve. Perhaps he was seeing what his raging blood wanted to see, but he could have sworn that he saw support in her eyes and a slight nod for him. "She can stay if she wants," he shot back. "I wouldn't want her to inconvenience herself by having to get up when I will be back in just a few moments." Growald threw his head back and laughed, "That's the spirit, boy, maybe there is some fight in you after all! Come on, let's get this over with so I get back to me ale." He began heading for the front door, not bothering to look back to see if Syler was following. With one look of apology to his host and another to Havert, Syler walked around the table and joined Growald outside. A few of the guests joined them, including Bronwyn, Havert, and Alltis. Tonight, both of the moons were dark and there was no natural light to allow them to see. Alltis brought with her a torch and lit a few lamps so they had light enough to see the small courtyard they were now in. Growald had already taken off his coat and handed it to one of his friends who seemed just as eager to see the fight as the solder did. Syler took off his own shirt and handed it to Bronwyn. "I am sorry about this," he whispered. "I understand," she replied quietly. Even before tonight, she had had no love of Growald, either. "Defend your honor… and mine." He gave her one more look and turned to face his opponent. "First to yield or drop?" Growald nodded, but Syler knew that neither was going to yield. The only way this challenge would be resolved would be when one of them pummeled the other into unconsciousness—or worse. Havert looked like he wanted to step in, but he knew better than to interfere in a formal challenge once the combatants were in position. Growald was a soldier and had been for all of his adult life. As a sergeant in the Seinari, the Sei's professional army, he was expected to be better than the common soldiers. All of the Seinari that Syler had ever seen were powerfully built and well trained in the art of combat including unarmed fighting. Not only was he taller than Syler, he was also far heavier built and muscular. Syler did not look forward to facing him in a challenge, but even being beaten into submission was better than allowing him to insult Bronwyn in that manner without answering it. He knew he was about to take a serious beating, but he didn't care right now. His anger was up and he wanted nothing more than to let it out. With a smirk, Growald made the opening move by making a jab at Syler's midsection then slapping him in the face when he tried to block it. It was intentionally insulting and everyone knew it, even the Kuti. For the first minute, they traded light blows, though Syler took a lot more than he gave. Growald continued to toy with his prey, occasionally even laughing after being hit. All of this only increased Syler's fury to the point that he no longer bothered with defending himself. He only focused on trying to inflict damage upon his opponent, a tactic that was not serving him well as the experienced fighter knew how to avoid most of the hasty attacks. His blind fury was getting him in trouble, but he didn't care. A red haze began to form around the edges of his vision as he launched wild swing after swing in an attempt to release his fury. Everything began to take a sort of reddish tint and Syler dimly began to wonder if he had taken one too many hits to the head already. Growald was enjoying himself at the spectacle and decided to further entice Syler. "This is disappointing, boy. I had hoped for a real fight. Maybe once I finish playing with you, I can go and play with your pretty whore over there. She might like a real man after having a child like you forced on her." The taunt worked and Syler charged once more. This time, instead of dodging or landing a light, taunting blow, Growald unleashed his own strength and met Syler with a blow to the chest that staggered him. Another blow to the face left the blacksmith on the ground with blood spurting from his shattered nose. "You will need to do better than that, boy. I fought women who hit harder than you." For the first time, pain began to break through the haze of fury and Syler groaned as he spit out dirt. A sharp pain shot through his chest with every breath and he was sure his ribs were broken. He felt something warm streaming down the side of his cheek that was in the dirt and his left wrist was too weak to even help him get up. Instead of giving up, Syler gritted his teeth, ignored the pain, and staggered back up to his feet. "Very good," Growald taunted in a cruel voice, "I am almost glad you got up, it means I get to show your woman whore more of my strength." Syler went back into the fight swinging and with a little more caution. It did him little good as he only ended up back on the ground a few seconds later with a splitting headache. His fury was growing every second until his heart was pounding in his ears and everything seemed to be cast only in various shades of red. Pain split his side as Growald kicked him while he was down. His heaving breath came out in a rattle that sent tiny droplets of blood spraying out each time he exhaled. The the Seinari knelt down beside the blacksmith and grabbed his hair. Growald pulled him up a little by his hair and said quietly in a strange voice absent of malice or taunts, "Don't fight your fury, Syler, use it and grow past it." Before Syler could react to what was said, Growald smashed his face down into the sandy dirt and held it there for a few seconds. He released his victim and took a few steps back to openly ogle Bronwyn. Syler didn't understand why Growald would say what he did, but at this point, he didn't care. His fury was beyond control to the point that it was consuming him. He wanted nothing more than to take Growald and smash his head against a rock until it turned into paste. Never before had he been filled with such wrath and hatred. Even during the battle at Fazei Crossing, he did not feel the pure rage that now coursed through him. That fighting had been instinctive, a sense of urgency born out of a desire to survive. This was nothing but pure, adulterated hatred and a desire to inflict pain and suffering on someone else. Syler had been taught by his father to never lose control of his emotions, especially his anger. Until recently, he could count on one hand the number of times he had struck someone in anger. Each of those times, he had quickly regretted his actions and had managed to hold himself back. This time, though, he didn't want to hold himself back. He wanted to see his opponent on the ground bleeding and in pain. He didn't care about his own honor, he had given that up when he swore a false oath to the Angvardi priests. No, he cared about Bronwyn's honor and didn't want this beast of a man to have the opportunity to make good on his promises to abuse her. He wasn't concerned with himself, he could take a beating. He would not let Bronwyn's fears of being raped come true. If Growald won here tonight, nobody would challenge him should he seek to claim her in whatever manner he so desired as long as she was left alive and had no broken bones. It was the spoils of victory, all of the Sei and perhaps even the Kuti knew it. Syler looked up and, despite the dirt in his eyes, looked at Bronwyn in her green dress—now appearing to be blood red—staring down at him. Oddly, she didn't seem concerned, but remained standing where she was calm and composed. He didn't have to wait for her eyes to meet his, they already were there. Something snapped inside Syler at that moment. The world that had just moments before been nothing but red suddenly turned white and then there was a sense of detachment. While before, the world was cloaked in the darkness of a moonless night, now it seemed almost as bright as day. All of the color in the world had been drained and things were shiny, almost like looking at a reflection off of a calm lake with a bright sun casting its light upon it. More important and surprising then the visual changes were the physical ones. Syler felt as though he were another person, no longer connected to the pains and aches that he had previously earned in this fight. Suddenly, he had a strength that he had never felt before, a second wind he didn't know he was capable of. He felt almost invincible. With a loud cry, Syler pushed himself out of the dirt and back onto his feet. His face was contorted into a feral smile the likes of which had never been seen on his face before. The pain was gone, the weakness was gone. All that remained was the white and a sense of calm control. Only one thing held Syler's attention at that moment: Growald. The sergeant stopped laughing and looked Syler over with eyes that betrayed no surprise. The man cocked his head sideways for a moment, then, with a short cry of his own, he launched a true offensive for the first time since the fight started. As blow after blow came flying toward him, Syler felt no fear. He didn't feel much of anything but a focus on what he was doing and how to do it. Growald seemed to be moving as though he was under water. Each blow was slow and easy to avoid. Syler didn't even think about what he was doing as he avoided each attack with grace and smooth purpose, he just allowed his body to react. After two dozen blows had failed to even graze his opponent, Growald ended his attack and took a few steps back to catch his breath. Syler wasn't going to give him the chance. Using reserves that seemed limitless, Syler flung himself at the larger man and began pounding away at him with blow after devastating blow. He didn't know how he did it, but he did. Growald managed to block some of them, but just as it was while he was on the offense, his actions seemed strangely slow to Syler. Dirt, blood, and sweat flew from both men as they fought with no sense of mercy. With each blow he successfully landed, the whiteness clouding Syler's vision grew more intense until it became almost blinding. This fact didn't alarm him—for in truth, he didn't feel any emotions—but it was making it more difficult to see. It didn't matter though, the only thing that did matter was defeating Growald and seeing his motionless body lying on the ground. He willed it to be, and it was. With one, final blow that should have broken every bone in his hand, Syler brought his foe to his knees. Through the whiteness that was now nearly obscuring nearly everything, Syler swore that he saw Growald smile and say, "You did well, Syler," before his eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he tumbled to the ground. For several seconds, Syler stood there waiting for him to get up, but he didn't. Then, the world came tumbling down around him. The whiteness faded away into darkness that had nothing to do with the fact that it was nighttime. The focus and clarity that had driven him in the last half of the fight vanished. All of his energy was gone in an instant and he fell to his own knees. Soft arms caught him before he could fall face first into the dirt. In the blackness, he saw hints of green and flashes of a familiar shade of light brown. He tried to say something, but a soft voice hushed him, "Don't try to speak, Syler." More voices and colors and blurry shapes surrounded him, but he didn't pay much attention to any of them. His body was in pain once more, but it wasn't the sharp pains he expected. He couldn't find a single area label as the source of his pain, he just ached all over like he had been working at the forge for days without rest. He must have blacked out because the next thing he was aware of was laying comfortably in his bed with a warm, damp rag softly scrubbing his right leg. He jerked a little and took a deep breath and found that he didn't hurt any longer. His vision was slightly blurred, but it was quickly clearing up. When he had jerked, the rag pulled back and he heard a light gasp of surprise. Looking to his right, he saw Bronwyn standing over him in her green dress with a rag in her hand and two buckets of water on the floor beside her. He frowned and said, "Your dress is dirty." She stared at him in astonishment for a long moment before looking down at herself. The once beautiful dress was now covered in dirt and blood. Syler assumed that the blood was his as he had vague memories of his head resting in her lap before he blacked out. A stab of guilt pierced his heart as he realized he was responsible for her ruining what was probably her best dress. "Do not worry about it," she replied after looking back up at him in amazement and concern. "How are you?" "Me? I am fine, I think." Syler couldn't feel any pain at all and was beginning to wonder if he was in a dream. If it weren't for Bronwyn's ruined dress, he would have assumed it was and gone back to sleep. Bronwyn looked baffled. "You took quite the beating tonight, but I can't find anything wrong with you other than that you are covered in blood. I have never seen such a thing." "I feel fine," Syler assured her, "though I am tired." He looked down to see if he was bruised and noticed for the first time that he was completely naked laying on top of his sheets. His eyes widened and he looked up at Bronwyn who still had a look of complete confusion on her face. "Umm…" She snapped out of her reverie and said in a no-nonsense tone, "You were filthy when they brought you in and I had to clean you up. We didn't know where you had been hurt and I needed to wash away the grime to clean the cuts. We didn't know how long you would be unconscious and feared you were in a coma. It could have been days before you woke and I couldn't allow the dirt to infect your wounds." A bit of color rose on her cheeks and she flashed him a mischievous smile, "Besides, I am your wife, after all." To her credit, Syler did notice that all but his right leg seemed to have been wiped clean. He still didn't feel comfortable completely exposed, so he grabbed a bit of his sheets and used them to preserve his modesty. "How badly was I cut up?" Though the blush remained, the confused look returned to her face as she answered, "Not at all." "What?" "I couldn't find a single cut or blemish on your body. Believe me, I looked. Your face should have been busted into a mass of cuts and bruises after how many hits you took, and I could swear that your nose had been shattered. Despite that, I can't find a single scrape. Your face isn't swollen, either. I cannot explain it at all." Syler blinked several times and felt his face. It felt normal and didn't hurt at all. Despite much of the fight being a blur, he distinctly remembered receiving a good number of blows to the face and his chest. He poked his ribs and didn't feel any pain there, either. "I don't know what to say," he admitted. "I am glad you are unhurt, but this is not something I have seen before. The only times I have seen people take a beating like that and emerge unscathed afterwards were wizards or had the help of one." Syler chuckled, "I am not a wizard, I can assure you of that. If I was, I might have just blown Growald away with lightning or a fireball." "Hush, Syler," she said soothingly. "Right now, I am just happy with knowing that you are unhurt. We can ponder that mystery tomorrow." She dipped her rag in one bucket and resumed her work washing his leg. The warm rag felt good against his skin. It was rare for him to be able to use warm water to bathe, even if it was just with a rag. She must have gone to extra care to heat the water up before using it. Now that he was focusing on it, he could smell the scent of some sort of soap he didn't know she had. When she had dirtied up the rag, she rinsed it in a second bucket of dirty water to get the majority of the dirt off before putting it back in the cleaner warm water. Once she finished, he thanked her and would have gotten up to move the buckets except he remembered that he wasn't wearing any clothes. She gestured for him to stay as she washed her hands off in the soapy water before lugging both buckets to the kitchen. Syler was looking around for another pair of pants when she returned with an odd look on her face. "I want to thank you for what you did back there." "He had it coming to him," said Syler. She nodded in agreement, but added in a somber voice, "Havert told me what Growald could have done to me had you lost. It would have been the nightmare that I always feared. I don't know I could have endured it, especially knowing that he would have had to have beaten you near to death before having me." "It was stupid of me to accept his challenge." "No, it wasn't," said Bronwyn in a firm voice, "He insulted both of our honor and was a brute. No Kuti man would tolerate what he said about me, either. I—I can't say how much what you did means to me, Syler." "You are welcome, Bronwyn," said Syler softly. She looked straight into Syler's eyes as she slowly began undoing the buttons to her dress. "You are a good man, Syler, a very good man. You are far better than I expected or deserve. Tonight, you risked a severe beating or maybe even death for my sake and I won't ever, ever forget that." Syler wasn't sure what Bronwyn was doing as the dress slipped off her shoulders to the ground. Without taking her eyes off of his, she pulled off the chemise and let it drop to the floor. Syler gulped as she stood naked before him and began walking toward the bed. Her intentions were clear, and he had to admit that, for a long moment, he was inclined to accept her offer. They were clearly no longer random strangers thrown together by an occupying force at the whim of their religion. They were adults who were mature enough to make their own choices. "Bronwyn, you don't have to do this," he whispered. There was no regret in her eyes as she smiled and stroked his beard along his jaw, "Am I not your prize? Did you not fight that man over my honor?" Syler gulped. "I did, but not for this. I did it because I care for you, not so I could claim you as a prize like he wanted to." She lay down in the bed next to him face to face and looked into his eyes. "I know," she whispered, "that is why I am offering myself to you freely of my own choice." With his heart beating rapidly, Syler looked over her body and couldn't help but think that she was perfect. A voice in his head told him to simply relax and accept what she offered and he listened to it for several moments before stepping back and considering his options further. Bronwyn made no further moves, but lay there next to him waiting for him to make his decision. His hand reached out and touched her shoulder gently before tracing its way up her neck to her smooth cheek. He was tempted to pull her to him and lose himself in her arms, but couldn't just yet. He stared into the green eyes that were hovering just inches from his face and thought of how many times he had been looking into those very eyes over the last two days. In that time, they had been saddened, angry, happy, and determined. Now, they were at peace, comfortable, and open to him. He knew that her greatest fear, one even more than death, was to be violated by a man. For her to do what she had just done showed that she had completely accepted him. He saw no regret on her face as stroked her cheek. It would be so easy to just take her then and now, but it would be nothing more than lust. She had opened herself and offered herself completely to him, that was something that could not be beaten from her or obtained through threats or torture. She was not offering simple pleasure or physical relief, she was offering her love and in a way, her very essence. If he were to accept her offer and have sex with her tonight, he would be destroying her. No matter how hard he tried, he did not love her like that. He loved her, true, but not in the way a husband should love his wife. For him, tonight's passion would be just that: passion. They would find bliss and wonder in each other's arms tonight, then in the morning, they would wake and it would be over, at least for him. He could tell by the way she was looking at him and from what he had seen of her last night that if she hadn't yet fallen in love with him, she was well on her way to that point. For her, this was more than simply a casual, temporary pleasure or a relief from the tension of the last two days. She was willing to give him everything, to cast aside her reservations about being used by a man and risk sharing herself with him. He was flattered—no, more than flattered. He was deeply touched. Despite that, he couldn't give into such a one sided arrangement. It would devastate and ruin her. With a look of regret, he said, "No, I cannot do this." It was clearly not the answer she was expecting because Bronwyn pulled her head back a few inches and blinked several times. "What?" "No, Bronwyn, I will not take advantage of you." She frowned and said, "You are not taking advantage of me, I am offering myself to you." "You are offering something I cannot return. I am sorry, but while I will admit that I do love you in a way, I do not love you in that manner. If I were to lie with you tonight, it would be out of physical desire, not love. I would take the love you are giving me and simply use it for my own pleasure. Doing that would only lead to suffering for you and heartache for me for hurting one I care about. I cannot do that for a temporary pleasure, no matter how great or how much I might want it. I cannot love you as a husband, Bronwyn, I am sorry, but I will not profane your love." Instead of growing angry, Bronwyn smiled one of the largest, most purely genuine smiles he had ever seen. "I love you, Syler Penion, if for nothing other than that." "You aren't angry?" She shook her head and the smile remained on her face, "No, I am not angry with you. I would have given everything to you even though I knew you couldn't do the same back." She surprised him by reaching up and pulling him into a long kiss that took his breath away. When they broke the kiss, she gave him one last look that just might be longing and got out of the bed. Syler was still struck speechless and gaped at her. "It doesn't matter if you will ever love me back, I am yours now and forever." She went to her small chest and pulled out her nightgown. As she put it on, she said, "I knew you would win tonight." "What?" "I knew you would win the fight," she repeated. "Last night, while we were sleeping together, I had a kvastat. It was one I had never received before and was strangely lucid for such a vision. Normally, I don't recognize people or have an exact recollection of what is happening in my kvastat. It is usually blurry, confusing, and full of strange symbolism. But in both of the kvastat I have had of you, it was different. I could see everything as clearly as though I was viewing it with my waking eyes and hearing it with alert ears. "I saw you facing a man and knew that you were fighting to protect me. Though you were grievously wounded, you stood strong. I saw you surrounded in a pure white light and watched as you overcame your foe through your love for me. When the kvastat was over, I woke and cried silently for joy because I knew that you would protect me." Though she was smiling, a tear slid down her cheek, "When I saw you on the ground tonight for the second time, beaten and broken, I doubted my own kvastat. For just a few beats of my heart, my hopes were broken and I was about to weep for you. Then, in a moment I will never forget, you raised up your head and looked at me with a look of determination and power. In that instant, I saw a man who was stronger than any I have ever seen. My faith was restored and I knew that you would not ever fail me." Syler did not have a clue of how to respond to that as she handed him a fresh pair of pants and directed him to put them on. "You don't need to say anything, you have been through much. It is a special and sacred thing among the Kuti when a caetos kvastal sees someone she knows within her kvastat. Normally, we see only generalities and vague images. Whenever one of us can identify someone within our dreams, it is because there is a special bond between them that transcends description. I should have known something was special about you when I saw you come to my rescue in the kvastat I received on our first night together. Now, with this second kvastat, there can be no mistake. Whatever the Spirits have in store for us, it is a special and possibly unique thing, one I will never question again," She smiled once again at him and wiped away the tears from her cheek. Now that they were both clothed, she gently guided him back into bed. She blew out the candles before joining him in the bed. She snuggled up next to him while laying on her side with her back toward him. Before he could protest, she reached around put a finger over his mouth saying quietly, "Just hold me, Syler. That is all I ask. That is all I need." With a single nod, Syler embraced her and held her close to him. The last two days had left him drained and he felt no desire to resist. With his arms wrapped tightly around her, he drifted off into a restful sleep deeper than any he had had since leaving Sandrin.
  6. The complete eleventh chapter is here. I am on a roll and have been editing almost a complete chapter a day now. Hopefully, I can keep it up as things are finally picking up. I changed a lot in the early stuff, but now things are more along the lines of what I will be keeping. I plan on adding a big more, especially once Raella has been introduced, so that will offer probably four more completely new chapters in the near future. Brendo, I would love to figure a stopping point and say "I am going to have X number of words and that is it." However, that is too constraining and doesn't allow me to get in what I want to get in. As I go back over this and as I plan out Book Two (which I am working on a new title for that and may decide in the next few days), I realize more and more what I need to add in to make sure it sets up a believable groundwork. Plus, as you have already seen so far, there is a lot more that can be explored to help expand upon the characters and plot. Oh well, if this thing gets too large, I will simply cut or rearrange things (as I have done already). In this chapter, I added probably 1750 more words including a greatly expanded conversation between Syler and Bronwyn at the end. Now that I have their relationship more firm and have been building them up a little more solidly, this part definitely, definitely needed expanding and clarification. I am quite happy with this and hope it helps set the stage for the next chapter (fight with Growald) a little better. ______________ Chapter 11 My most beloved Celienna, recent prophecy has been delivered that tells of a possible threat to you and your throne. I urge you, dearest, increase your guard and take all precautions pertaining to your safety and to the safety of our daughter. My heart would break if word were to reach me that any ill had befallen you. I eagerly look forward to your visit this fall. — Letter from King Raul of Terula to his wife, Empress Celienna of Angvard Village of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut July 19 Syler was rarely a man prone to anger. It took a great deal to rouse him and push him over the edge to where he couldn't control himself. What Bronwyn said was enough to do that so instead of doing something he would later regret, he decided to leave the house and roam the streets. He knew that it wasn't wise to be out on the streets at this hour, but he couldn't stay in the house. His anger didn't come entirely from the fact that she concealed that she was a seer from him. Though it would have been nice for her to tell him, he had always known that she had secrets and had made his peace with that knowledge. The way some people reacted to her told him that something was off with her and now it made sense as to why. Her being a seer didn't really anger him nor did it scare him off. He knew an old woman who was a seer, though her connection to magic was weak. She was a kind woman who saved a Sandrin a great deal of trouble by forewarning of an early frost thus causing the village to harvest their crops earlier than normal. Because of her vision, only a small portion of the crops were lost and a potential famine was avoided. All visions of the future were gifts from the Elements, at least, that is what he thought. Bronwyn probably thought they came from the Spirits and, judging on what she said, assumed they were curses. Among the Sei, seers and prophets were not shunned nor feared, but were respected for the help they could bring and because of their connection with the Elements. Clearly, that wasn't the case among the Kuti. So many of the gaps that had always been within her stories of childhood were now filled in for him. He couldn't imagine how hard it must have been as a child to be feared and all but shunned. No wonder she had so few friends and was so secretive. Her secrecy was explainable, as was her justified anger toward him. No, what angered him was that she was right when it came to her accusations. He had grown angry because she held back something that put him in danger, but that was mostly out of a sense of betrayal. When she had turned his own actions upon him, it had stung deeply. He may have deserved it, but it didn't help the darts sting any less. He was a breaker of oaths. No matter the reasons for it, that would forever hang over him. To be reminded of that hurt and she knew it would. That she would turn on him and use his most embarrassing secret against him also hurt. As his anger slowly passed, he began to see how much he had hurt Bronwyn. She had let him in on a secret that was probably just as painful as the one he bore, and he had turned it on her. Was it any wonder that she lashed out in kind against him? Now that he was thinking without the adrenaline of anger inhibiting his judgment, he regretted how he had talked to her. He didn't really know how to proceed. He knew he needed to apologize, but wasn't sure how he could do that without making things worse. If he went back, she may still be angry and it could all blow up in his face and cause permanent harm to their relationship. For all he knew, she was furious at him and terrified that he would tell her secret. He went another few hundred paces before he came to a conclusion. He was a man of the Sei raised by his parents to behave in a certain manner. Among the things his father would expect of him was to admit when he was wrong. He had made a mistake and while he might not be the only one who lost their temper in that house, he needed to make his part of it right. He needed to go back and apologize and accept the repercussions. If she was still angry at him, he deserved it. If she choose to punish him for what he said, then he would accept whatever punishment she deemed appropriate. By now, his wanderings had taken him to the outskirts of the tent village on the edge of the city. It wasn't a cold night, but neither was it warm enough to be comfortable. It was uncharacteristically cold for this time of the year at the height of summer. He breathed deeply and savored the smell of firewood that wafted through the air from the cooking fires. He couldn't help but notice the brilliant sky. Most of the time, at least one of Teladia's two moons was bright and dominated the stars, but not tonight. It was one of those rare nights when both moons were dark. Fedan, the smaller moon, was nothing but a dark circle where no stars shone. Sor, the larger, was but a tiny sliver of pale blue light that would be gone tomorrow night. Syler sat down on a low wall and just stared at the sky in all of its beauty and take in the peace it offered him in return. He needed to make amends and apologize. Bronwyn had been right in that his own plans had been a threat to her. He had been selfish and ignored anything that didn't directly get him closer to his goal. In his desire to leave, he had disregarded everyone else in his life including Havert and Alltis. It was foolish of him to do such a thing and to close himself off so much. Yes, Bronwyn had her secrets, but she had good reason to keep them. He had not been very open with her, so it should have been no surprise to him that she was not open with him. After half an hour or so, some lights on the horizon caught his attention. Far off, a few dozen bluish white lights seemed float majestically toward him. At first, he thought they were some sort of wagon caravan headed in late at night, but as time went by, he realized that they were moving much faster than any wagon could muster. As they got closer, he saw mounted figures on swift horses at full gallop. At first, Syler was struck at how much of a risk that these men were taking for going so fast at night when a simple gopher hole could spell doom for both man and mount, then he saw that they were not merely torches lighting the way for them. At a second look, he realized that he didn't see any riders near the lights at all. when they got even closer, he realized that the entire group of horsemen were surrounded in orbs of self sustaining fire that cast an otherworldly hue. They were using magic to light a far greater area around them than what a simple torch could show so that they could see clearly almost as well as if it were day. There were only around two dozen men, but they were moving at great speed and urgency that puzzled Syler. As they approached the town, they changed their course slightly to connect with one of the roads that went out of the town a half mile or so in various directions. He saw with a little alarm that they were heading his way, so he began to back up. A hand reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and pulled him into an alleyway before he had a chance to react. He nearly cried out at the suddenness of it all, but another hand clamped over his mouth before he could say anything. "Shhhh," someone hissed into his ear. "You shouldn't be on the streets, Syler, especially not tonight." The voice sounded familiar so he stopped resisting. Seeing that he wasn't going to yell, whoever was holding him let go. Syler turned around to see that his guess was not wrong. "Lamastus, what are you doing?" he said as quietly as he could despite his surprise. "Saving your hide, probably," the Angvardi guard said. Despite his normally cheerful demeanor, there was no smile on his face tonight. "Don't you know who those are?" Syler shook his head. "Those are Terulan Shalktra from Sasevurg. You do not want to cross them." "What are Terulans doing this far north? I thought the Angvardi had control over these lands," asked Syler. "Shhh, I will explain in a moment," Lamastus said. He put a gloved finger over his mouth and gestured for Syler to look around the corner with caution. Syler was able to get a look just as the horsemen passed. He didn't have the best view, but from what he could tell, there were only around two dozen of them all riding on black steeds of a breed he had never seen before. He couldn't tell what sigil they wore on their armor, but he did think he see a few blurs of blood red flash by. Even though the entire group passed in just a few seconds, something about them sent chills up his back that overshadowed the previous night chill. Once they were well past them, Syler looked back at his friend and asked, "What are they?" "You don't know what the Shalktra are?" Lamastus said incredulously. He paused shook his head having apparently answered his own question. "No, of course not, you are not Angvardi so you have no reason to know. The Shalktra are the most feared of all Terulans. During the great wars, they went throughout any Angvardi lands that had been captured and brutalized those they believed might be still helping our forces. They had unfettered authority to do whatever they felt was necessary in the name of their king, including the torture of women and children and the slaughter of entire families. Many, many Angvardi died horrible deaths at their hands. "But their worst atrocities were during peacetime. Even when we weren't at war, they would infiltrate our lands and terrorize isolated villages or assassinate officials and leaders. At least two emperors were thought to have been assassinated by Shalktra operatives over the years. They were always careful to cover their tracks, so it was hard to find proof that they were behind the terror, but we knew who it was." "What are they doing here?" asked Syler. "We weren't told," Lamastus admitted. "That doesn't mean that there aren't rumors. Word is that there was some sort of prophecy that got the Terulan king's dander up and now he is reacting to it. Only he could have sent the Shalktra here because no other Southerner has the authority to do such a thing." "But why would Governor Uthas allow it if the Angvardi hate the Shalktra so much?" Lamastus shook his head in disgust as he replied, "Because our own Empress allowed it. She would do anything her husband asked, even if it meant allowing those vile creatures into our lands. I know we are supposed to be Unified under the Way, but I remember fearing the Shalktra when I was young. I lived in fear because I grew up along the border just south of Casato. I was blessed enough to never have encountered them, but I remember having to stay inside at night and my father barring our door just in case one of them came by. Even when we were at peace, we feared them." "Do you know what they are after?" "No, but as soon as I find out, I will give you a heads up just like I always do." He looked at Syler with one eye narrowed and the other brow arched. "Speaking of which, what are you doing out on the streets tonight? If I hadn't of pulled you out of the way, they may have killed you as they passed just for fun." Syler didn't feel like going into it, but Lamastus was a friend and he had just pulled him out of a potentially dangerous situation. "Well, Bronwyn and I had a fight. I just needed to get out and clear my head." A look of genuine concern passed over Lamastus' face. "What happened? I thought you two got along well. You haven't been treating her poorly, have you?" Syler shook his head. Lamastus was always protective over her and was extremely courteous whenever she was around. Syler hadn't yet figured out why he took such an interest in the two of them, though he did know that Lamastus had a few other friends among the Kuti and Sei. He didn't want to question the friendship simply because the man was an Angvardi, but at times, especially when he was in uniform, it was hard not to do. Even if Lamastus was a friend, he didn't feel at liberty to share Bronwyn's secret nor did he want to tip off the guardsman of his own plans. "No, I haven't. It was a stupid thing, honestly. I overreacted to something and said a few things I shouldn't have. She got angry and said some things too and I left before I said or did anything that would make it worse. It probably wasn't the most manly thing to do, but I wanted to get away before I said or did anything that would really destroy our relationship." "What were you fighting about?" Lamastus asked softly. Syler grimaced and said, "I really don't want to go into it. I made a mistake and was actually about to head back to apologize when I saw the lights from the Shalktra." For a moment, the Angvardi looked as though he wanted to press him further, but then he shrugged and smiled, "At least you are man enough to admit when you were wrong. That is one of the things I like about you, Syler. Too many men here try to blame everyone else and pretend they weren't ever at fault for anything that happened to them. I know that most didn't ask to be sent here, but what was done was done. The ones who will survive are the ones who accept that and move on." Syler didn't say anything at first because he didn't want to continue along this subject. If Lamastus thought that of him, he wasn't going to disagree and plant the seed of doubt in his friend's mind. As the seconds dragged on, it became clear that Lamastus was expecting a response, so he said, "It does no good to try to hope the past will change itself." "Very true. Wars come and go and people live and die, but change is eternal. Those who accept change are the ones who will end up surviving. Those who accept change and learn how to make it work for them will be the ones who thrive." "You do a lot of thinking for a guard, don't you?" said Syler wryly. "Of course," Lamastus replied without trace of offense. "What else am I going to do while standing guard looking at the same thing for hours upon hours? Not all of us joined the military because we had no other way to make a living. Some of us are just as smart as the best of the intellectuals that walk around in their puffy robes and look down the noses at everyone around them." "I guess that makes sense," Syler muttered. "I guess I just got ahead of myself and made a mistake with Bronwyn." With a lopsided grin, Lamastus reached over and mussed Syler's hair as though he were a kid brother. All things considered, Syler didn't complain, but went along with it. He deserved a good slap upside the head for how he acted. The guard chuckled and said, "Come on, I will escort you back home so you don't get into any more trouble." They started back towards Bronwyn's house and, after a few minutes of awkward silence, Lamastus asked, "So, what is new in your life? Did you finish those orders for the new stables?" "Almost," replied Syler. He was grateful for a change in the subject. "I was working on the braces all day and got five of them finished. I will have to get the last one done tomorrow." "Excellent, we are finally getting additional mules from Fort Stup to help with the harvest. The nights have been getting unnaturally cold and we want them to have a warm, safe place to stay so they can remain healthy. With so many more people coming to the city, we will need everything we can get. Harvest is still two months away, but with this weather, I fear that we may have to get on with it before then or risk losing the entire crop." "Well, I would have had the last one finished except Havert stopped by with some news." "Really? What news was that?" Lamastus didn't know Havert very well, but he knew that he was Syler's best friend so he made it a point to keep up with what was going on in the redhead's life. Syler smiled and said, "Apparently he is going to be a father." "That is wonderful news!" exclaimed Lamastus. "One more soul to help battle the Coming Darkness. Please pass along my congratulations next time you see him. If he needs anything that I can help with, please let me know." Lamastus had only met Havert a couple of times, but he had been friendly with the redhead. Havert wasn't too keen on making friends with an Angvardi, no doubt due to Growald's influence, but he was cordial enough. "I will do that. He is having a party at Alltis' parent's house tomorrow night, it should be a fun gathering." "What are you doing on the roads!" a harsh voice called out from a cross street. Both Syler and Lamastus jerked toward the new voice and saw that it was an Angvardi in the uniform of a sergeant. Syler knew better than to say something, but merely bowed his head and let Lamastus handle the situation. Lamastus stepped forward and saluted. "Sergeant Dael, I am merely escorting this man back to his home." "Guardsman Fean? By the gods, what are you doing? This is no time to be dawdling on the streets." "I am scheduled for patrol in this quarter, sir," Lamastus said in his defense. The officer harrumphed and said, "Well, you had best get this man back to his house and get yourself to the Temple Square. Those damned Shalktra are here and everyone is on edge. I hope a fight doesn't break out, but if it does, I want all of our men ready just in case." "Sir, you think they would start a fight despite being so outnumbered? There couldn't have been more than a dozen of them ride by." "A dozen? Good gods man, there are at least five score of them in the city! They came from all sides at once and encircled the Temple Square. It may have been just to rattle us a bit, but Captain Sosar is not impressed. He ordered those guards in the barracks to muster and sent me out to gather those on patrol just in case this turns bloody." Lamastus cursed and said, "I will do so on the double, sergeant." "Get going then." Lamastus saluted once more and led Syler back through the streets at a rapid pace while Sergeant Dael went to find more guards. "See what I mean?" Lamastus said as soon as they were out of earshot. "The Shalktra are never good news. I really hope this doesn't turn into a fight, a lot of good men will get killed and I fear for the townspeople if it spreads outside the square. The Shalktra aren't exactly known for their restraint in battle. If this gets messy, they will simply cut through everyone they see and sort it out later." Syler nodded and hoped that there would be no trouble. Violence would only bring more troops to the area and more troops meant more people he had to watch out for. Not only that, but that meant more Easterners who could potentially sniff out what Growald was doing and that would lead them to Havert. There were no more words passed between them on the rest of the journey. The normally cheerful Lamastus was now as grim and serious as Syler had ever seen him. He was the picture of a guard now that there was danger afoot and he had official tasks to perform. When they arrived at Bronwyn's door, all Lamastus gave him was a brief nod before he raced off at a brisk trot toward the center of town. Syler took a deep breath before knocking on the door. He didn't feel that he had the right to enter Bronwyn's home after how he had left it an hour ago. The next minute felt like an eternity, but the door eventually opened cautiously. He saw Bronwyn's green eyes peeking through and said in a repentant voice, "Bronwyn, I am sorry for how I reacted earlier. I was wrong to leave you like that and apologize with all of my heart. If you would have me, I would like to come back." The door started to close for the briefest of moments, then it flung open and Bronwyn sprang into his arms wrapping her own arms around his neck so tightly he could barely breathe. He was shocked by her reaction and nearly fell backwards onto the street before catching himself. "Yes, Syler Penion, I would have you back," she whispered softly into his ear. When she released him, she grabbed his hands and pulled him back into the house before closing the door. Now that he was in the light of a few candles and the kitchen fireplace, he was able to see her more clearly. He could see trails on her cheeks where tears had dried and her eyes were red from crying. That sight and her initial reaction only served to further shame him for his actions. "I am sorry, I should not have gotten angry at you like I did. You were right to try to protect your secret," he said. "It doesn't matter, I forgive you," she said with gratitude all but oozing from her. "Please though, accept my apology. I shouldn't have attacked you like I did, and I shouldn't have withheld that from you. I got angry and acted shamefully toward my husband by doubting you. You were right to be wroth after such disrespect." Syler hadn't expected an apology from her and didn't think she needed to tender one, but he wasn't going to risk further confrontation by rejecting her offer. He knew that she had a strange way of looking at the husband-wife relationship and even if he didn't think it was necessary, he had learned to accept her meekness and submission wherever possible. "I do accept," he said quietly. Despite that, he couldn't just let her get away with taking all the blame. "You were not alone in this, we both acted foolishly." She bowed her head and nodded, but didn't say anything to disagree. When she looked up at him, he could see in her eyes that she had been terrified. As she, at his insistence, sat down in the one comfortable chair they had, he took out a bottle of fresh wine. It had just come straight in from Dunstad and was quite sweet, but not very strong. He had bought a bottle on a whim and with fond memories of the wine at home and couldn't think of a better time to open it than now. Bronwyn's still watery eyes followed his hands as he filled two cups with the expensive and rare treat. Wine was not common in the Kut Lands because of its aridity and the nomadic nature of its people. She gingerly took the offered cup and brought it to her lips. Syler pulled one of the chairs from the table and sat down across from her. After taking a sip of the wine and savoring its sweetness, he said, "We both have secrets that are connected to our lives before coming here. I understand that and can live with it as long as you can. I think that today could have been avoided if we had both been a little more trusting, but I can definitely understand why we weren't and don't blame you at all." He paused to let her say something, but she just stared into her cup. Since she said nothing, he continued, "I don't know about you, but I have been treating this arrangement as nothing but a temporary inconvenience and that is not fair to either of us. For whatever reason, the Elements or the Spirits or even the thrice damned Tetrarchy has put us together and intertwined our fates. We can attempt to fight that, but it will only get us in trouble. "You are a wonderful woman, Bronwyn. Perhaps had things been different, we could have been friends without being forced together. I feel that—speaking entirely for myself—that I have been unintentionally keeping a distance with you out of spite of the Angvardi. It was wrong of me to do that to you because you deserve more. It was not your fault the Angvardi came and you should not have to shoulder the blame for their actions. I may not be able to be a husband to you, but there is no reason why I can't be a partner of sorts. We are in this together, for better or for worse, and I feel that if we work as one and are more open, we will have a far better chance of surviving the next year or so as free people rather than slaves." He paused and drank some more of the wine. This time, though, he didn't continue after a few seconds, but waited until Bronwyn felt like saying something. He had said his piece and now it was up to her. Sensing the uncomfortable silence was on her, she shifted in her chair. She curled her legs up in front of her and cradled her cup of wine next to her chest as if it were fragile. Finally, she said quietly, "I was so scared when you left me. Ever since I found out we would be paired with husbands, I feared the day that he found out who I was. I dreaded the sight of him storming off in anger and telling the Haresu about me. It was a thought almost worse than being forced to please a harsh husband in bed." Tears began to slowly trickle down her cheeks. "When you left, I panicked. At first, I debated trying to run, but I couldn't. I am not someone who is used to traveling, I would not have gotten far on the run. They would have found me and it would have been worse for me for having fled." She stopped and drank from her cup, but she did so without any real pleasure. "I decided that I would not cower away from my fate. I was going to wait for the Haresu to come and claim me, so I waited for the knock that would end my life. When you didn't immediately come back, I just knew that you had decided to cast me aside and had gone to the guards. When I heard the knock on the door, I feared the end was here at last. Answering the door was one of the hardest things I have ever done, but I would not be dragged kicking and screaming to my doom like a coward." She stopped to wipe her face with her sleeve. Syler started to stay something, but she continued on before he could get any words out. "Then I saw you standing alone at the door and my heart nearly stopped. I heard you apologize and ask for me to take you back, I could not believe the words you spoke. In my mind, you had left me and turned against me, but you had not. In my panic, I had forgotten you were a good man of honor and had wrongly attributed treacherous acts to your name." She looked into his eyes for the first time since sitting down, but couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I would never have turned you in, Bronwyn. I couldn't do that to anyone, especially someone who has never harmed me. I was angry, true, but I left because I didn't want to say anything that would make things worse. If I had known what you would assume, I would never have put you through that." Bronwyn sniffed and nodded her head. "I know that now, but my mind has the tendency to play tricks on me and magnify my fears. I should have never thought that about you." Syler waved away her repeated apology. "Think no more of it. We are in this together for better or for worse and that is all that there is to say about it." He stood up to get the bottle of wine for a refill and added, "I do not want to hear of this issue again. We both made mistakes and we have both apologized, so we need to put it behind us." She nodded again and tremulously held out her cup for more. Syler was more than happy to top off her cup so she could enjoy the treat and perhaps let the alcohol calm her a little. She had worked herself up for a good amount of time and now that it was over, the adrenaline was still flooding her veins causing her to shake even now. They talked for the next hour about all sorts of things. She explained more of her visions and began to open up about aspects of her life she had never said. For his part, Syler listened and only occasionally added anything of his own. The only real contribution to the conversation he had was to assure Bronwyn that she was not the only one who was worried about being turned in. He had been afraid that, upon hearing that he planned on leaving to go after his sister, she would turn on him. That news seemed to relieve some of her tension now that she knew she wasn't the only one who doubted the other. Once she began to calm down, Bronwyn seemed almost eager to unburden herself of the secrets that had weighed her down for so long. There seemed to be a peace and understanding between the two of them. They had both been dealing with secrets that had built up a wall of separation, now it was gone. There was little else to hide and the stress of keeping those secrets was gone. Both had gotten their fears off of their chests and were closer for it. At last, it was time to retire for the night. Syler was exhausted still from the day's work and Bronwyn's eyes were drooping. They had heard no sounds of violence so Syler figured that the Angvardi and the Terulans had managed to keep the peace between them. It was late and they were both tired from the evening's ordeal. Syler peeled off his shirt and shoes and got into the bed as usual. Bronwyn went into the small washroom to put on her nightgown, but when she came out, she didn't get into her cot. Instead, she stood in front of it clearly torn, until she took a deep breath and took the few steps needed to cross the room back toward the bed. "May I sleep with you tonight?" she asked meekly. Syler looked up at her in confusion, but saw that she was still shaken and didn't seem to have any ulterior motives. After briefly considering it, he rolled over onto his back and allowed her to join him. She curled up beside him with her head resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her shoulders. That night, Syler stayed up late as he contemplated what the future would hold for them. Bronwyn, for her part, slept soundly tucked up under his arms. As he held her and stared at the ceiling, he realized that he had come to care deeply for her. It wasn't love as a husband to a wife, but a friendship borne through shared suffering and a reliance on each other for survival. He cared what happened to her just as he cared what happened to Havert, but they shared a stronger bond than the one he had with his energetic friend because of their closely intertwined lives. At some point, he felt Bronwyn stir slightly. Afraid he had woken her, he remained frozen, hardly daring to breathe. She quickly settled down, but after a minute, he thought he felt wetness against his chest and wondered if she was crying. He could feel her breathing and it was steady, not like someone who was weeping, so he just let her be and gently rubbed her back with his free hand. Within a few minutes, he could no longer feel any tears, though he could swear that Bronwyn held him a little bit tighter after that. Something in his gut told him that the events of today would change everything in their lives. Havert had discovered his wife was pregnant, he had told Bronwyn of his plans to leave, he had discovered her secret, and the Shalktra had arrived. He couldn't place it, but something was different. He had always been wary of such feelings as he believed they were signs from the Elements of important events to come. He wanted to ponder it more, but exhaustion from working in the forge and the evening's emotional hardships took their toll. He gently kissed the crown of Bronwyn's head and drifted off to sleep.
  7. I have changed the dates in my master document and will see about changing them here soon. This is the last (and far larger) part of Chapter 10. I have found slightly more inspiration of late and have been writing more frequently. Right now though, I am fighting the urge to get into a major novel sized fanfic of my latest Skyrim character. I can just picture the plot and everything, but I don't want to get sucked into a project of that size at the expense of this novel. Oh, this shouldn't be a big surprise, but I am pondering shifting more of the current novel into Book 2. The way I see it, I need to look at the bigger picture and the various story arcs. Back in the day when I first started this, the first book was supposed to cover: The Angvardi invasion of the Sei and the West The exile and escape from Kubei Syler's rescue of his sister Syler's assumption of some authority among the Krue The Kruish Civil War (the current novel stops in the start of this) The uniting of the Krue under Syler A trek to [classified] to acquire [classified] The Angvardi/Terulan invasion of the Kruish territories [classified] starting [classified] among the [classified] Amberis Rael makes his move on the Terulan throne/Uthas moves to take over the Angvardi Raella [classified] to [classified] in order to [classified] Prophet Aitin completing the first part of his mission thus introducing [classified] A massive, decisive battle between the Krue and the Easterners What I am seeing now is that I planned too much in too little space. Now, I am feeling that the first story arc for the novel should be ultimately the introduction of characters, the hinting of plots (in the East) and then Syler's efforts to rescue his sister. The second novel will then be able to focus on fleshing out and building up the various plots in the East, Syler's struggle to rise among the Krue, and possibly the completion of the Kruish Civil War which must take place before the Angvardi/Terulans invade (it will mostly be ended because of that event). Then the third novel can pick up and cover the actual invasion and end on what I originally planned on being the first novel's ending. That in its entirety, should produce roughly 800,000 words (or, likely, more) for the first trilogy and end things on a most definite climax. The second trilogy could then cover what I was planning to put into the second book and so forth. I am not entirely sure what I plan on doing, but I suspect that some things might be shuffled around a bit in the timeline. If I simply expand everything up to Karusa being rescued, then it won't be quite enough for a full novel and would leave a LOT for the second novel to pick up (thus probably forcing it into two novels). What I may end up doing is have the novel focus more on the Uthas/Ambris/Raella/Aitin storylines and possibly moving some of the material up in the timeline as well as adding more to that. Doing that would give me more breathing room in the second novel, but would mean that the Syler storyline is more heavily focused on (which may be good as he is the primary character). Alas, I am not entirely sure and would love to have some long discussions with people who read the book. Brendo, as you are pretty much the only one who is actually reading it here, perhaps we could get on Skype sometime soon and discuss it in depth. Anyway, those are just my ruminations as the realization that I have gotten to essentially chapter 9 (original) and have already added two complete chapters (to current Ch 11 that I am working on now) and have plans for a few more as well as expanding the existing chapters. I just have too much to write and so much story to tell. Here is the rest of Chapter 10, before I forget. _______________ Bronwyn watched Syler go back outside and let out a breath she she had been holding in. She had known that this subject would come up sooner or later, but had not expected it to arise so soon or in this manner. She was no fool and knew that their joint choice not to have sex would make things difficult for them to live sooner or later. For the last month, she had slowly been getting to know Syler and probing him on the issues that concerned his religious beliefs, convictions, and even his plans for the future. She knew enough about him to know that he thought ahead and would have some sort of plan and had hoped he would be able to share it with her when he came to the realization that she could be trusted. Havert's announcement had caught them both off guard and forced the subject to head. She had known from the start that if she didn't conceive, she and her husband would be thrown into slavery. She had dreaded that aspect if the man chosen for her turned out to be a brute, but Syler hadn't been. Instead of a man who took the choice away from her and forced it out of her hands, Syler had given her the choice, something she had not at all expected. In truth, were they both back in Eagoria and he were a Kuti, he would have been the type of man that she would have wished would pursue her. It was nice being around a man who didn't know everything about her and didn't make attempts to root out her every secret. But they were not in Eagoria, they were in Haresu controlled Kubei. Syler was very strong willed on some things, and not being forced into a marriage appeared to be one of them. Even if she had wanted him to court her, he wouldn't simply out of spite for the Haresu. By now, she would have willingly given herself to him, but he probably wouldn't even consider her simply because she had been forced upon him. He had surprised her when he mentioned planning on leaving and returning to his hometown. If she had been prepared, she probably would have figured that would be his plan, but this was sprung upon her too early. Because of that, she had panicked and made a hasty offer to go with him. He was right in saying that it was not something she could decide quickly. Her excuse to him had only been partially the truth. Yes, she did dread punishment at the hands of the Haresu, but that wasn't all. Her visions were growing more frequent and more disturbing with him around. The most terrifying one, the one that involved her being tortured, had him saving her and she was confused as to what that meant. She had never had a vision that clear and defined before and it scared her. It had happened twice more since that first night which also concerned her. Her visions tended to repeat themselves more frequently when the event itself was growing near and she was terrified of this vision. Not even her dreams of the Haresu invasion had been this terrifying. If he left, then it could mean that he wouldn't be there to save her from that horror. The very thought sent an icy sensation deep in her stomach and had caused her to offer to leave with him. It was a foolish offer, but one born of desperation and panic. She really didn't know if she wanted to leave her people and live a life on the run. The Haresu had proven to be too powerful for anyone to resist. The priests joyfully delivered the news that major victories had been won against the Kosh and Sua and that new brothers and sisters would soon be joining them. If she left with Syler, they would both be on the run from these powerful people and she didn't know how long they could last without being recaptured or even killed. A knock on the front door interrupted her thoughts. When she answered it, she saw that it was only Halldis, one of the few friends from Eagoria who had been exiled to Kubei with her. "Hello Halldis, come in," she said with as much cheer as she could muster. Her friend didn't return the cheer, but looked a little glum. "Thank you, do you have a moment to talk?" "Of course. Syler is working at the forge and won't mind." Bronwyn assured her. "I was just doing some thinking on a few things I need to sort out." A look of concern crossed Halldis' face as she cautiously commented, "Are you sure? You don't look so well. Are you sick?" Bronwyn tried to smile, but Halldis didn't seem convinced. "I have a lot of things on my mind. I just got some news and I need to let it settle for a bit." Her friend's eyes widened and she leaned in a bit. "Do you mean, about a kvastat?" "Somewhat, but I can't really talk about it." It was, at least, partially the truth. As much as she may like and trust her friend, she wouldn't break Syler's trust by telling her about his plans to leave. "Does it involve the Haresu?" Bronwyn really didn't want to discuss it at all, but she had to be careful so as not to pique her friend's interest even more. Among those of her former village, Halldis was one of the few whom she confided in. They all knew of her kvastat, or visions, but most were afraid of her. They feared her for the visions she had that were less than optimistic and offered her and her family gifts as tribute in the belief that if she were happy with them, she wouldn't receive any bad visions about them. Brownyn only wished it worked that way, but she didn't control what she saw. Eventually, she grew reclusive and afraid to form any friendships because most of her people shunned her or were simply polite to her out of fear. But Halldis was not concerned about any of that. She accepted that Bronwyn was a caetos kvastal, or receiver of visions, and didn't let it bother her. Sometimes when Bronwyn had a particularly bad or confusing vision, she would talk with Halldis about it. Though she was six years older and had a husband and children of her own, she always made time for Bronwyn. Even when Bronwyn foresaw the devastation the Haresu would bring upon their people, including Halldis' husband, Gyrd, the older woman never blamed her for what she saw. "In a way, it does, but I am not sure," Bronwyn responded, grateful that her friend was focusing on them rather than Syler. "Tell me of it, maybe I can help you figure it out. I really need something to distract me right now." Bronwyn shook her head as she replied, "No, I don't want to. I am sorry, Halldis, but this is something I need to bear on my own." Halldis swallowed hard and asked in a calm, almost distant voice, "Does it involve me? Is that it? Do I finally get to be reunited with Gyrd in the afterlife and escape this waking nightmare and the Haresu?" Bronwyn placed her hands gently on her friend's shoulders and said firmly, "No, it does not involve you, not this time. Don't say things like that, please, it scares me." "You know I cannot stand to live this way," Halldis said with tears beginning to form in her eyes. "My 'husband' is a lout who can barely manage to keep work as a common laborer. How he was ever able to call himself a warrior enough to get captured by the Haresu is beyond me. He cares nothing for Engli or Lowri, but at least he doesn't abuse us. He is too busy drinking ale with his Sei countrymen to bother with that." When she stopped for a breath, Bronwyn tried to interject, but Halldis continued before she could. "The Sei are bad enough to deal with, but the Haresu are vile. Their blasphemous religion will be the death of us all. All of the men are nothing better than laborers to build their new cities while us women are nothing but breeding stock for future warriors to go out and spread their lies. The way they look down upon us is unbearable and makes me long for my beloved Gyrd even more." Bronwyn didn't know how to react. She knew her friend had been suffering ever since the Haresu had invaded. Bronwyn had lost her parents, but Halldis lost her husband and father at once, and her new husband was nowhere as kind and hard working as Syler. Bronwyn didn't have to contend with caring for two little children, either. "I am sorry, but you must be strong if for nobody else but your two little ones." "If not for them, I don't know if I would be able to continue," said Halldis in a voice that was full of despair. "When they were born, I had such hopes for them. I had dreamed that Engli would become a strong warrior like his father and go out hunting. He would protect our people from the Sei or the Angvardi Haresu. I hoped that little Lowri would grow into a beautiful young woman and find a strong husband to care for her and make her happy. She could raise my grandchildren to be strong Kuti just like her father. Now, I only weep at their stolen future. All they have to look forward to is a life of slavery under the boots of the Haresu and their pagan gods. Oh if only the Spirits could see the tears of their children and save us from our cruel fate." "The last two seasons have been hard on all of us," Bronwyn said soothingly. "You have suffered more than most, but you must hold your head high. You are a Kuti and we are a proud people. We may be under the domination of the Haresu for now, but one day we will defeat them and restore our pride. You just need to hold on until then and be strong for your children." "Is that from one of your kvastat?" she asked with hope slowly creeping back into her voice. Bronwyn only wished that it was, but she had seen nothing of the sort. "Yes, it is," she lied. Halldis looked her in the eyes for a long moment then smiled, "I believe you. Then there is hope for our people." She began wiping tears off of her face and favoring Bronwyn with a small smile. "I hope that knowledge will be enough for me. I know you sometimes feel that your kvastat are a curse, but I don't agree. They are a blessing to you, one that should be treasured and held on to. One day, you will be glad that you are a caetos kvastal." Bronwyn doubted it. Her visions had only given her heartaches and loneliness. Nothing good had come from them as far as she was concerned. Now wasn't the time for regrets, she had to figure out what she was going to do when Syler left. "Thank you, Bronwyn, it isn't much, but your kvastat gives me hope. I should get back to Engli and Lowri. I left them with Aldyth, but I don't want to make her watch them for long." "I am glad I could help," said Bronwyn, "I only wish I could do more so I could repay you just a little for all that you have done for me." "Think nothing of it, you were our caetos kvastal, that is important. I hope day that you will learn to use your gift to help our people." Halldis smiled one more time and left. Bronwyn went back to the kitchen and began making supper. It was getting late and the meal was nowhere near completion. She quickly kneaded some dough and placed it in their small stone oven and made sure the chicken was boiling properly over the open fire. When it was time, she added the potatoes and leeks to garnish the meat. It wasn't the best meal, but it would suffice. Syler came in from the forge at dark and washed up like he normally did before coming to the table. She served supper and both started eating. She was glad that he didn't seem to have a problem with the meal, but he wasn't saying much and that wasn't like him. She wondered if there was something wrong, or if he was still focused on Havert or his plans for leaving. She figured that it might be best if she were to simply ask him and see if he would open up. "Is there anything wrong?" she asked between bites. He didn't immediately answer, but when he did, he put down his spoon first and looked at her intently. "What is a caetos kvastal and what are kvastat?" Syler's question surprised and petrified Bronwyn so much that she dropped her fork and stared at him in shock. He saw the look and elaborated. "I heard you talking with someone while I was working and wanted to make sure things were okay. I am sorry, but I did overhear the last of your conversation just before she left. She mentioned that you were a caetos kvastal and I wanted to know what that was." Bronwyn looked more panicked than he had ever seen her and that concerned him. "What has gotten into you? All I asked was what those Kuti words meant." She could hear the surprise in his voice, but also detected a trace of hurt at her response. She briefly considered trying to deflect his inquiry, but the fear of him going and asking someone else or even just using those terms in passing caused her to reject that notion. She had hoped that he wouldn't find out her secret, but he had and there was no going back. She knew him well enough to know that if she dodged his inquiry now, he would be even more interested and though he wouldn't press her, he might ask someone else. The wrong words by him could bring unwanted attention from other Kuti clans or worse, the Haresu. She took a deep breath and began her explanation. "The title 'caetos kvastal' would best translate to 'receiver of visions' in the traditional tongue. It means that I am the one gifted—or cursed—with the ability to dream kvastat, or visions. They only come to me on occasion and I don't control when I have them or what I see." Syler eyes widened as he looked at her in shock of his own and said incredulously, "You are a seer." Bronwyn nodded, "I believe that is what your people call it, yes." "Why didn't you tell me?" Now there was no mistaking the hurt in his voice. "Because it is dangerous for people to know and I didn't know if I could trust you," she said defensively. "If the Haresu find out, they may take me away to their vile Cloister. That is, they would if they don't kill me outright. When they conquered our people, they went through and purged all of those who were our wise men and spiritual guides. Some they spared so they could be taken off as trophies, slaves, or worse, but most were killed where they were found. As a caetos kvastal, I am revered by some, feared by others of my clan, so they didn't turn me in out of either respect or fear. Plus, as much as they may dislike or fear me, they hate the Haresu even more." "I understand that, Bronwyn, I really do, but you should have told me," replied Syler with an edge that she rarely heard. His eyes narrowed and his cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. "I couldn't risk it," she said with urgency in her voice. He had to understand that she didn't have a choice. If he told the Haresu, then they would kill her. She didn't want to hurt him by not telling him and she feared now how he would react now that the truth was out. "Please understand, my whole life these last few months has been focused on hiding this fact. If the Haresu find out, my life will be over." His voice went cold as he said, "And you don't think that I might be in danger if they found you? They may assume I knew and hid you, so I would be punished as well." "No! I didn't want that to happen," Bronwyn pleaded. Her eyes were glistening with moisture as she tried to explain, "I didn't want you to know and put yourself at risk or to have to bear my secret." "Well, now I know and now I must deal with you holding something back that could put us both at risk and with concealing this information from everyone else." "I am sorry, I didn't want any of this." He ran his fingers through his hair and groaned in frustration. "You say that your people respect and fear you? How far does that extend?" Bronwyn shrugged, "Some of them avoid me, sometimes they will even shield their children as though my seeing them would cause me to have a bad kvastat about them. Others try to give me offerings to curry favor with me or the Spirits. Very few, like Halldis, treat me like a person." "So is that why I never see you take any money when you go out for food?" asked Syler. She nodded, "There are many who provide me food without asking for anything in return. Some of it may be out of sympathy for what happened to my parents, but most of it is probably because I am a caetos kvastal. That is the only way I was able to survive in the months after my parents died." "Well," declared Syler, "I am here to provide for us, you will no longer accept their food without paying for them. I will not be taking other people's food without just recompense, not as long as I am able to work. Neither will you." Bronwyn gaped at him, "What business is it of yours if people wish to give us food? It is a sign of respect for them." "No, it is a sign of fear and an attempt to bribe you," said Syler. His eyes were hardened and defiant. "We are not invalids, nor are we beggars. I am perfectly capable of providing for both of us with the work I do, I will not have you going around taking from others as though I was incapable of caring for us." "You have no right to say that, it is how my people have always treated the caestos kvastal!" "That is not how I was raised," countered Syler heatedly. "As I have told you countless times, we care for ourselves and take nothing without fair payment. Only the ill, the old, the widowed, and the orphaned accept charity. We are none of those." Bronwyn let out a snort of disgust, but didn't continue the fight. She would continue as she had always done, there was little he could do to stop her. Perhaps sensing a victory, Syler remained silent for a minute or two and poked at his dinner. Then, he looked up as though something just came to him. "Were you having one of these visions the first night I was here? Is that why you were so disturbed?" She looked down at the rest of her dinner which was left to grow cold. "Yes," she mumbled. "It was not a pleasant vision and was extremely powerful." "What was it about?" The tone of his voice made it clear that it was not really a question, but a command. Bronwyn didn't want to tell him, but she feared lying to him and only compounding the problem. He had clearly grown agitated at her concealing her kvastat from him, hiding this would only make it worse. She wasn't really thrilled to explain this vision to anyone as she had never told anyone of it. "It is a vision I have had many times, one of the few that actually includes me. I am locked away in a dark cell where I can hear screams of torture and pain coming from others. A man comes in and begins to cut my flesh with a knife. My visions usually ended there, but that night, it didn't. Instead, the man continues to cut me until he is run through with a sword from behind." She paused and gulped before continuing. "You are the one who kills him, but before you could free me, something from behind distracts you. I don't know what as that was the moment when you woke me. Even when I have the kvastat again, I can no longer see past that point." Syler was livid and she could tell he didn't take what she said very well. There was a long, tense time where she didn't know what he would do or say next. At last, he exploded in an anger she had not seen him display before, "So let me get this clear, you see visions and are at risk of being captured or killed because of that. All those around you whom the Angvardi might think knew and said nothing are at danger because of that. You are having visions that have me killing someone with a sword. I have lived with you for a month now, and you neglected to tell me any of this? Why did you not think that I wouldn't need to know this?" Bronwyn's own anger was beginning to cut through her fright. "Oh, and the fact that you swore a false oath and are not a believer doesn't mean you are in any danger yourself? And do you not think that I might also be exposed to punishment for not reporting you, or that an investigation into what exactly I knew about you might lead to discovering that I am a caetos kvastal? You are at this very point planning on fleeing the city, something that you know will put me in danger regardless of whether I stay here or go with you. Did you ever think that your own actions might put me in danger, too?" In her anger, she added, "You say you did what you had to in order to protect your sister, well, I had to do what I had to do in order to protect myself. You are angry at me for not telling you my deepest secret, yet you are a breaker of vows yourself who conceals things just as dangerous. You are not the only person who can put their own priorities ahead of everything else, Syler Penion. I am a person too and I must do what I must in order to survive, even if it means concealing things from you." As soon as she said it, she knew she would regret it. Syler's face went from a furious red to an aghast pale and his powerful fists were clenched. The sound of the wooden spoon he was holding snapping in two was the only noise in the house while he took in what she said. She braced herself for a blow from him, but none came. Syler got up from the table in silence, but she could see his jaw clenched in fury. Without a word, he opened the front door and vanished into the evening darkness. As soon as he was out of sight, Bronwyn could no longer hold back the tears and let them flow.
  8. That has been fixed in the master document, thanks for catching it. Here is the next part. Not much new here, though I did decide to go back to the real world calendar instead of the one I made up. It will still be set up the same with twelve months each with thirty days in it. I think it will be simpler for people to understand and grasp the passage of time and seasons (at least, for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere which Teladia most definitely is due to the cold northern areas). I am not entirely sure if it has already been established, but I fully intend on having Syler's birthday be February 30th simply because I can (and I will admit that was not a small part of why I was willing to go this route). Anyway, there are a few new bits in the beginning and a couple of small edits throughout, but not much has changed here. _______________________ Chapter 10 And he shall be born innocent, unknowing of the future he will lead. His path shall take him to the darkest of places, but he will not give up. With loyal friends at his side, he shall overcome all in his path. But should a treacherous one join him, his fate will be uncertain. — Prophecy of Panil of Enhorpe regarding the Master of Magic, 290 of the Second Age Village of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut July 19 Syler had been in Kubei for over a month and was astonished at the speed in which the small city was growing. When he had arrived, there were only around five thousand inhabitants including the four hundred Sei and their Angvardi guards. Now, there was almost triple that and there was no end in sight. Every day, crowds of people streamed in from the surrounding territories. Most were Kuti, but there were Sei, Gope, Susug, Angvardi, and even a few Terulans from the south. There was always construction and expansion in order to accommodate the new arrivals. The original city had been prepared for just three thousand families, but with so many new arrivals, it was not able to contain them all. Tent cities had formed around the edge of the city, but those quickly gave way to small mud brick and thatched houses. Most of the new arrivals were too busy to cause trouble since they were kept occupied in building their own homes and the small markets that would service the expansion. Wells were constantly being dug and the lines for water could take an hour to go through. Work was now more than plentiful for Syler. When he first arrived, only a handful of Sei army prisoners had been sent here. Now that the Angvardi had time to process their newly conquered lands, they began to send Sei civilians in droves. With their arrival, someone was needed to handle the hinges, nails, and fittings that held their house together. Syler had never made so many nails in his life, but he didn't mind. It was simple work, easy to do, and cheap to produce and they provided a guaranteed income for him. Syler was working on a set of ceiling braces when a breathless Havert burst into his shop door and exclaimed, "Syler, you ain't gonna believe it!" Without pausing in his work, Syler glanced over his shoulder and replied, "Believe what? Aren't you supposed to be making deliveries?" "What?" Havert's face scrunched up in momentary confusion, "Oh, deliveries, that can wait. I'm gonna to be a father!" What had been a steady beat of his hammer faltered as Syler lost his grip on the steel. He put the hammer down and turned around to appraise his friend, "What?" Havert was still panting for breath when he slapped Syler's shoulder. "Who could have ever imagined that, eh?" Syler was nearly in shock. He agreed with Havert's last comment because he couldn't have imagined the carefree man being a father. "Umm, that's good, right?" He knew that Havert and Alltis were getting along well together and perhaps were truly in love, but he couldn't shake his own personal instinct toward forced marriages and the revolting idea of having a child under the circumstances that they were in. "Of course it's good, whad is wrong with ya?" Havert said while looking at his friend with a look of suspicion. "I thought you would be happy for me." "I am happy, it is just, well, a surprise." Syler sighed and wiped sweat off his brow. "Look, I am sorry, it is just a surprise for me. You know how I feel about the Angvardi and their rush to force us to have children. I don't think anyone should have a child until they want to, not because someone told them they had to. I am glad for you, really, and I think you two will make great parents." The suspicion didn't leave his eyes entirely, but Havert seemed placated. "Alltis is such a amazing woman, the gods picked well for me. She is thrilled 'bout this, and not just 'cause it means we get the Haresu off our backs. Her parents are also happy and are throwing a feast in celebration. There will be food and plenty of the good stuff ta drink, I definitely hope to see you 'n Bronwyn there." "When is it?" "Tomorrow night, at our house, just after sundown. It will be great, I promise. We will get ya so drunk that they'll have to carry yer sorry hide home." Now that some of the shock had worn off, Syler was able to smile. It was good to see his friend so happy. "I don't know about that, but the two of us will definitely be there." "Be where?" Bronwyn's voice came from the doorway to the house. "I'm gonna be a father," Havert said with a huge smile on his face. Bronwyn blinked several times before smiling and saying, "Congratulations, Havert! Maybe the blessings of the, um, gods be upon you and your wife." "Thanks," he said, obviously missing her hesitation in his exuberance. "I gotta tell a few others, but I will see ya tomorrow night!" Before anyone else could add another word, he dashed off at a full sprint back down the road. Syler shook his head and mumbled, "That boy is going to wear himself out." In a joking tone, he said, "I don't think I have seen him that excited since he discovered that Old Man Hoggis accidentally left an entire crate of ale in his cart." Bronwyn didn't laugh or even chuckle, so he turned around to make sure she was still there. She was, but the look on her face was one of concern and worry. "What is wrong?" She took a few moments to reply so she could think through her response. "Does it worry you? We both know that the Haresu are going to demand that we produce a child before the year is over." Syler let the air out of his lungs when he heard her. They had danced around this subject a few times, but never addressed it directly. He had made it quite clear to her that he did not consider their marriage valid. She knew that he was not a true believer and didn't say anything about it to anyone else. While she hadn't said as much, he had noticed that she didn't seem to be completely in step with the Way. Since neither of them believed in the religion that declared their marriage to be, he didn't think it was a valid marriage. To add to that, he didn't love Bronwyn that way and he didn't think she loved him. When his father had still been alive, he taught his son that he should never allow himself to be forced into an arranged marriage as was common among the rich families. Their father had been criticized by a few when he refused to allow a noble's son to marry Karusa after she said she didn't even like him. It would have meant that their entire family would have been able to enjoy a higher station and financial security, but Tarneis believed strongly that his children should not marry someone they didn't love. Instead, she married a simple farmer, Jarem, and had a wonderful life until he died in the accident. "I know," he said quietly. Bronwyn looked down and asked, "What are you going to do when it starts getting to the time when I should be with child and am not? I can only escape notice for five or six more months before it is clear that we will not be meeting their deadline." "I don't know exactly what we will do, but I hope we don't have to find out." She looked back up at him with curiosity in her eyes. "What do you mean?" "Not here," Syler said. He made sure the metal piece he was working on was secure on the bench before putting his hammer up and gesturing to the door that led into the house. Bronwyn didn't object, but followed him in without a word. When they were in and the door was closed, they sat down at the table and he began to explain. "You know I have a sister back in Sandrin, yes?" She nodded. "I don't plan on leaving her alone for much longer. Elements know what the Angvardi have done there, for all I know they have done the exact same thing they did here and married her off to some strange man they picked up from among the Sua drivel. I would not see my sister suffer at the hands of a brute who didn't love her or care for her except as a way to escape enslavement and appease his new masters." He paused to let Bronwyn respond, but she said nothing. "You also know that I do not believe in the Easterner's religion. I did what I felt I had to in order to protect my sister by making a false oath regarding my conversion. Perhaps the Elements have punished me for this by sending me even farther away from her, but I will not give up hope that I can one day return to my sister and watch over her. "So with that said, I do not intend on remaining here for long. At some point, I plan on leaving this place and making my way back to Sandrin to track down my sister, wherever she may be. The reason why I haven't left now is because I need money if I am to travel. Plus, the guards keep too close an eye on all of us, I wouldn't make it right now until they let their guard down." Several long minutes passed where no noise was made in the house except the slight whistling of the wind outside and the crackling of the kitchen fire. Syler hoped he had not said too much and exposed his plans too early. He knew Bronwyn by now, but there were still times when he wondered just how much of her he really knew. She kept many secrets and would often retreat into silence when certain things came up. He had gotten to where he could spot such problem areas and tried to avoid them, but there was no avoiding this. "What will you do with me?" she asked at last. "With you? Nothing. I don't own you and never will. You can stay here, go somewhere else, or do whatever you choose." A familiar look of panic crossed over her face for a brief moment. Though she normally had excellent control of her emotions, Syler had learned that there were times where something tried to surface for the briefest of moments. She was good at concealing what she was feeling, but not perfect and Syler often wondered what it was that caused her such concern. "Don't worry, I am not just going to take everything and all of the savings and run away. I would only take my half of the money, the things I came with, and a few days worth of food then leave you with everything else. I do not want to harm you in any way. If you want, I can even leave a letter saying that everything was my choice and that you knew nothing." Another long pause and Syler wondered what she was thinking now. When she spoke, she surprised him with what she said. "What if I choose to go with you?" He shifted his weight uncomfortably and mentally tried out a few responses before finally saying, "Why would you want to come with me?" She didn't answer immediately, but took a few seconds before responding. "If you leave, even if they don't punish me, they will likely just hand me over to another man. If it was someone like you, I might not mind, but I don't want to risk it being a brute who will abuse me." It made a great deal of sense and Syler kicked himself for not considering that. The Easterners were nearly obsessed in making sure every possible woman was producing more soldiers for their future armies so they could fight this "Coming Darkness" of theirs. If he left her and was either caught and killed or managed to escape, they very well could marry her off to another man, one who might not be so kind as he had been. There were a lot of men in the world who would take advantage of the situation to have their way with a woman as beautiful as Bronwyn was without any thought to her feelings or wellbeing. "Well, umm, I guess that does make sense," mumbled Syler. "Are you sure you want to give up a stable, safe life here for one of an outlaw constantly on the run? I may be able to blend in with the people of Sandrin, but you would stick out like a sore thumb with your features." She gulped, but set her jaw in determination. "I know, but I would rather face uncertainty with you than go through the anguish I suffered waiting for my husband to arrive and not knowing what I would be treated like. I could be suffering greatly here if things had turned out differently. Several of the women I know are suffering, but can't say anything about it for fear that the Haresu would punish them and make things worse. There are a few good guards like Lamastus out there, but not everyone is so fortunate to have a man such as he to watch out for them." Syler nodded in agreement. He had seen and heard enough to know she spoke the truth. It was true that the Angvardi tried their best to control the abuse, but they couldn't catch everything, especially when it went unreported. His mind was racing with the thoughts of how to address this new development. He hadn't considered the idea that Bronwyn would want to come with him when he made his escape. It was an interesting situation, one that could have its benefits. A single man out alone would arouse suspicion that a man and a woman would not. If they were together, they could possibly manage to bluff any suspicious Angvardi into thinking they were a married couple on normal business as part of the Way or something that may save their lives. He might not love Bronwyn, but he had come to see her as a friend and wouldn't want her to end up in a terrible relationship simply because he left. "Okay," he said with a nod of finality. "If you really wish to go with me, I won't stop you. I really hope you know what you are getting into. Think about it. I don't plan on leaving for some time yet. I promise that I will tell you before I leave, you can come up with a final answer then." She nodded and seemed somewhat content. "Very well, Syler." She lowered her head in submission before shuffling into the kitchen area to make herself busy. Syler, sensing that the conversation was over, even if he didn't want it to be, went silently back out to the forge to continue his work.
  9. This chapter is going to sort of fill in for the original chapter's "summary of life events" a little. It allows me to show a slower progression and also allowed me to fit in some more information now that I know more solidly where the story is going. Okay, I had a bit of fun with this part. Growald is one of those guys who just gets under everyone's skin, but he is too big and nasty to simply ignore. That makes him kind of fun to write, especially since it gives me an excuse to be a little mean to my characters. I finally get to properly introduce him rather than just a simple 'he was one of Havert's new friends" at a dinner party. On his accent/speech patterns, I am going for a sort of mild (and much more crude) version of Havert. It seems that Havert is the only person in Teladia who speaks with a country drawl and I aim to change it. Some of the Sei and most of the Sua will probably pick up more of those tones to various degrees simply for consistency's sake. In this, I also get a little more of the development of Lamastus' and Syler's friendship, all of which fits nicely into a good reason as to why Growald would immediately take a disliking to Syler. As before, all of this chapter is completely new. ________________________ * * * * * Village of Kubei, Falquer 16 Two weeks of work had seen Syler's forge get up and running smoothly and left him with aching muscles every night. That his body was not up to the strain he was putting on it surprised him because he felt like he did when he first started working for Master Fitno. The handful of weeks that he had taken off had left him weaker than he thought. Either that, or the emotional strain of the events that had happened since he left Sandrin were taking their toll on him. At least he and Bronwyn seemed to be getting along. Things may have started awkwardly between them, they had mostly resolved themselves. Almost without saying, they were respectful of each other's privacy and still slept in separate beds. There were things both kept to themselves and preferred not to talk about, but they respected that and didn't pry. Life was a compromise between them. On their first full day together, they had agreed that neither should completely abandon their cultures. Syler tolerated Bronwyn's Kuti traditions while she tolerated his Sei heritage. Where their cultures conflicted, they agreed on a compromise wherever possible. In some cases, they even tried each other's culture. Bronwyn got Syler to begin growing out his beard like most Kuti men even though it felt itchy. She seemed to like it and was glad that he was willing to do that small thing for her. For her part, she started eating a small lunch with on occasion, though she complained that it kept her from eating supper. Syler began to learn how to deal with Bronwyn's oddities. There were times when she was happy and easy to talk with, but there were also times when she said little and seemed to resent conversation with him. She woke him up twice in those two weeks with nightmares he attributed to being the after affects of losing both of her parents in such a short time. Despite that, beneath her typically serious demeanor, Syler found that Bronwyn had a sense of humor and appreciated a good joke, even if it came from Havert's typically offbeat jokes. Though Syler got up early in the morning, he always found that she had breakfast ready for him without complaint or fail. While he worked outside, she went about taking care of the house chores and preparing the meals. Even though she didn't partake in them at first, she was faithful in providing a lunch for him. Occasionally, at his playful prodding, she would eat a small amount, but for the most part she stubbornly stuck to her Kuti tradition of two meals a day. Every night after work, Bronwyn would do her best to try to soothe his tense neck and shoulders, but she wasn't nearly strong enough to get all the knots out. Despite that, Syler recognized her attempts to help him and genuinely appreciated her effort. She kept insisting that it was their environment that was doing it to him since he was no longer in the nice, lush Sei lands but now in the harsh, dry Kuti territories. While he figured that there was some inherent cultural pride behind her words, he figured that it was possible that there was something different between here and home. At home, he didn't have the constant worry of what was going to happen to him and his sister to plague him. More than once he caught himself staring into oblivion while deep in thought fretting about one thing or another. Havert stopped by every day with the metal, wood, and coal Syler needed for his forge and would occasionally pick up orders that Syler had finished. It was good to see his friend and catch updates from around the city. While he didn't leave Bronwyn's house much, Havert traveled around the entire city and knew where most of the Sei had been settled. A few of the people from Sandrin expressed interest in meeting up every week or so simply to keep ties, something that Syler looked forward to. The biggest help that Havert provided was not in transporting goods, but rather in helping him develop contacts with people who needed smithing work done. Starting anew in a rapidly growing city proved to be challenging in a way that Syler had not anticipated. Back in Sandrin, everyone knew Master Fitno and there were only a few other smiths to compete with. Master Fitno had developed customers long before Syler joined him. Even though the city was growing, it was still time consuming to go out and make the contacts and conduct business. To that end, Syler came up with the idea of having Havert act as sort of a traveling salesman for his services. Havert was already traveling and would keep his ears out for anyone who needed smith work and in turn, Syler would pay him a commission for each new customer he found. It worked for both of them so far and enabled Syler to spend more time in the forge working rather than out seeking jobs. It was something new to be able to keep the money he earned. With Master Fitno, he never received the payments for the work he did. His compensation was in having a place to live, food to eat, and teaching for himself and his sister as well as a small allowance. Now, he received all of the money, though he also had to spend it to buy his own supplies and feed himself. What was leftover was not much, but at least it was growing. He tried to give Bronwyn money for food, but she insisted that providing sustenance for them was her job, not his, and refused it. Even though he made it clear that the money he made was for the both of them, she never once asked for any of it. There were a few things that he bought for the house, but the majority of the money he spent was on the forge itself and the rest was put into savings. Each copper was precious to him, but not because he wanted money or wealth. Each copper he could save put him one step closer to being able to find some way to bribe or buy his way back to Sandrin and Karusa. The only reason why he continued to work was so that he could have the money needed to get home. Travel was expensive and dangerous, especially as a fugitive. Horses, supplies, and saddles cost money. He would probably want a weapon as well, though those were tightly regulated by the Angvardi. Not only would he have to get to where Karusa was, but he would have to find some way for the two of them to survive after. There were a few places not yet controlled by the Angvardi, but if the news coming from the priests was true, those places would soon go away as they were conquered by the Angvardi and Terulan armies of the Way. He still didn't know what to do, but he had time to figure out more definite plans. There was a lot that he needed to prepare before he could ever leave, not the least of which was what to do about Bronwyn. The two of them were getting along well enough, but she was still a mystery to him. He supposed everyone had their peculiarities and learned to live with them. Despite seeming to be known by almost every one of the Kuti, Bronwyn had few friends. Syler had yet to find a Kuti that didn't at least appear to know who she was. He first noticed it when Alltis and Havert had come over to their house. Alltis had been almost deferential to her hostess in a way that Syler hadn't noticed at first because he assumed that it was simply a Kuti thing. Over time, he noticed that both Kuti women and men, even those who were much older, seemed skittish and deferential around her. When he finally asked about it, she politely indicated that she didn't want to talk about it and asked he leave it alone. He did, but a part of him still wondered at what it was about her that she was keeping from him. At a polite knock on the post of forge's outside door, Syler lowered the hammer he had been working with to see who had arrived. To his surprise, he saw an Angvardi guardsman and his heart began to race. There was no telling what he might have done or why the Angvardi would want him. His fingers tightened around the hammer as he clenched his jaw. "Hey there, Syler," the Angvardi said in a friendly voice. At that point, Syler recognized Lamastus and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Hello, sir. Can I help you?" asked Syler. With a chuckle, Lamastus replied, "I told you, it is just Lamastus. I came looking for you because I have an update on the search for your sister." "What have you heard?" Syler said a bit more forcefully than he had intended. He took a few steps forward involuntarily, but stopped before he reached the Angvardi. Lamastus put his hands up in mock surrender and said, "Relax, my friend, I haven't found anything definitive yet, but I did make progress." "What do you mean?" Seeing that Syler wasn't going to throttle him, Lamastus lowered his arms and leaned against the doorpost. "Well, I am not exactly privy to the records over there, but this morning, we had a break. Kubei is along the main communications route between the East and the West, so most of the men traveling west come through here." "I know this," Syler said through clenched teeth. "What does this have to do with my sister? Is she being sent to Angvard?" "No, nothing like that," said Lamastus with a shake of his head. "I wanted to tell you that one of my old friends was traveling through today on his way to the Sei Province to help conduct various Unification policies. It is his job to go to the various smaller villages and towns to survey them for Unification plans." "You mean, to rip people from their ancestral homes and force them to marry complete strangers in a far off land?" said Syler bitterly. "Look, I don't make the policies," Lamastus relied coldly. "I just do as I am ordered and try to keep things from getting out of hand while protecting the weak. I am trying to do you a favor, but if you are going to get angry, I will simply leave and spend my time elsewhere." Syler's head dropped and he relaxed. After a deep breath, he said apologetically, "I am sorry. You are doing me an important favor and I am only being rude about it. How is this good news for me?" Accepting the apology with a nod, Lamastus explained. "I managed to convince my friend to keep an eye out for any news about Karusa. He should be going to the area where Sandrin lies and there is a good chance that he will come across her or her name. If he does, he promised to send me word and as soon as I hear from him, I will tell you." It wasn't what he was hoping to hear, but it was better than nothing. "How long will this take?" "I don't know. It could be months before we hear anything. Even though we have defeated the Seinari and your king has surrendered the kingdom, there are still rebels who refuse to give up. Those men have turned into bandits and raiders who attack our shipping and communications lines and generally make life far more difficult than it should be. With the main army attacking the Sua, the Sei Province is more vulnerable than may be prudent. That means that all of our caravans must be cautious when traveling. It slows everything down and makes a mess of a lot of things." "I understand," mumbled Syler. "Thank you for what you are doing for me, Lamastus." "Smile, my friend, at least there is hope. I will continue to question my contacts and keep an ear to the ground. I really do hope that we can find her and that she is okay." "What then? What will I be able to do if we do find her? Will she be able to come here or will I be able to go to her?" Lamastus tried to keep his hopeful expression intact, but Syler could tell that it was a struggle. The guardsman chose his words carefully and said, "It may have to be enough to know that she is okay. Maybe when things have settled down, you can go and visit her, but right now, everything is so chaotic, I can't promise even that." Syler tasted bile and tried to swallow it down with little success. Lamastus had put in words one of his greatest fears: that he would not be able to be with his sister again. It made it even more imperative that he continue his own plans outside official channels so that he could go to her of his own accord regardless to what the Angvardi wanted. It was dangerous, but he would do what was needed to protect his sister. "Thank you for what you are doing." Syler tried to sound sincere, but he wasn't sure he managed to. He was simply too distracted at this point to be able to muster a good performance. "Right," Lamastus said with a shrug. "I will keep you updated whenever I hear any news." As the guardsman turned to leave, Syler shook himself out of his thoughts and remembered his manners. "Would you be willing to come over tomorrow night and have dinner with Bronwyn and I?" He wasn't sure how Bronwyn would react, but he would find a way to make it up to her if she had any objections. Lamastus paused and faced Syler once more with through eyes narrowed and full of suspicion. When he saw that the Sei was serious, bemusement graced his dark features. "Well now, this is most auspicious. I can't recall the last time a Sei or Kuti actually invited me to join them for a meal. Most tend to simply treat me with fear or, at best, caution." He paused and smiled. "I would be honored to join you and your wife for dinner tomorrow. Would three parts after sundown work? I presume you will be working until the sun goes down and I want you to be able to get at least a little rest before entertaining me." Truth be told, Syler normally worked a few turns of the dial after sundown, but he would stop early tomorrow. "Sure, that sounds good." "Then I will see you then." Lamastus dipped his head and left the forge. Syler went back to work while pondering what he had learned and done. He had hoped that he would be able to quickly save up some coin and then sneak away once Lamastus found out where his sister was. In his naivety, he had framed his plan around weeks. Now, he realized that he needed to start thinking in terms of months. That opened up a whole new set of problems, not the least of which was the thought of Karusa languishing in a miserable life for months on end. From what he saw here and heard from those who continued to pour in, a single woman of her fairly young age would be a prime target for the Unity seekers. That very fact was the main reason why he didn't immediately head out to Sandrin. The chances of her still being there were slim at best and if he left now, with little in the way of information, he could spend months and months wandering aimlessly to no avail. If he was going to be staying here for months, he needed to come up with a more long term way of dealing with the fact that Bronwyn wasn't likely to end up pregnant in time for their one year deadline. He wasn't entirely sure how the Angvardi would be handling things, but he could only imagine that as that deadline approached, those women who weren't pregnant would begin to stick out. Having her attempt to fake pregnancy would buy them time, but unless she had some sort of escape plan herself, he wasn't sure she would go along with it. He let out a deep breath and threw his might into pounding out the wrinkles and defects in a sheet of metal. Patience, he needed patience, and that would be one of the hardest things for him. He would need to balance the need for resources and knowledge with the need to be gone before the Easterners started snooping around. "Well, warn't that a pretty sight," a gruff, crude voice said from behind Syler. Syler turned around to look at the speaker. The man was tall, solidly built, and overall quite imposing. His thick beard failed to conceal the smirk that twisted his lips and his mess of curly hair looked like it hadn't been combed in a few days. He stood leaning against the doorpost with his arms crossed across his burly chest and the sweat and dirt covered shirt that covered it. As soon as he saw him, Syler knew that this man was trouble. It was something in his gut that was rarely wrong. This was a man not used to being agreeable nor well tolerating any disagreement. His demeanor was aggressive even in its seeming casualness like a coiled spring just waiting to be triggered. "Can I help you?" Syler asked politely. If this was another customer, he couldn't afford to lose the business. It wouldn't be the first time he helped someone he wasn't exactly fond of. The man's green eyes rolled dramatically and he jerked his head in the direction that Lamastus had gone just a few minutes ago. "Oh, I think you got enough help from the bastard." Syler's eyebrow shot up. "Excuse me?" "Ya heard me. I come here lookin' for someone that just might be a bit useful all because he was recommended by one of me own, and I happen upon him consortin' with the enemy and offering to sit down and eat with the vermin like they hadn't just overrun his homeland like rats and killed and raped its people like butchers." The man made no attempt to disguise the hatred in his voice, and a good deal of it seemed aimed at Syler himself. Syler was taken aback by that and didn't immediately respond. Seeing the hesitation, the man jumped on him. "You see, a friend of mine insinuated that you just might not be completely in line with the Easterner's little religious and societal programs, so I figured that I might just have me a little walksey by and see if you might be good enough to help your kingdom. I was just 'bout to come in and introduce meself when I done hear voices already and see the glint of Angvardi armor in your doorway. Like any good concerned citizen, I listen in real quiet like to make sure things are okay. I would hate to leave one of my fellow countrymen in a spot o' trouble with the scum-like cretin that usually fills the ranks of the guards here. "Instead of finding a friend in trouble, I stumble upon what I think just might a collaborator, the lowest form of feckless, spineless, hopelessly useless form of life ever to walk on the Element's green hills. Now, put me poor heart to ease and assure me that mine ears were deceiving me when I heard that not only are you acceptin' favors from the enemy, but you are actually consorting with them voluntarily." Now Syler, still holding the blacksmith's hammer, crossed his arms and clenched his jaw. "I don't see how it is any of your business who I spend time with. I don't even know who you are, so why would I care what you think?" "Me name is Growald, Sergeant Growald of the Seinari Sixth Wing. I was fightin' the Eastern bastards and sending them back to their whores in pieces before the likes of you even bothered to pick up some steel and defend your king." He spat on the ground and continued without allowing Syler to interject. "They may have captured my unit, but they didn't capture me spirit. The war will never end, not until the last of those pox pustules is off our land and we have a king once more." "The war is over, Growald," said Syler curtly. "We lost and they won. It is time to accept that and move on." "Nonsense," growled Growald, "it has just moved into a different phase, one that requires more finesse. Your friend Havert knows this and has signed on to do his duty as a man of the Sei. What 'bout you? Are you going to follow in your friend's footsteps and prove your worth?" Syler shook his head and struggled to restrain himself from saying some things that would undoubtedly lead to physical violence. So this was one of the men that had managed to drag Havert into a doomed fight. He didn't recognize this man as being one that trekked with them from Fazei, so he must have come from elsewhere. He might not recognize the man's face or name, but he could recognize a forceful and persuasive leader when he saw one. Growald didn't seem to him to be the type that would ever let go of something once he sank his teeth into it. "Havert was always prone to notions of glory and rash decisions. Sooner or later, he will realize that there is no future in fighting the Angvardi and will correct his mistake. I only hope that realization comes before it is too late and you drag him down with you in flames and death." "Me thinks here that you are too yellow bellied and cozy with the enemy to ever be of any use to me. You best stay out of my way, then, 'cause in this fight, I will cut down anyone who isn't with me, Angvardi or Sei. And don't go runnin' your mouth off about me to your new friends, not unless you want your friend to end up in the bottom of that damnable stone monstrosity of theirs that perverts the center of town. I got my eye on you, Syler Penion. You had better watch yourself or you will become just one more name on the long list of those who died in this war." He spat again and started storming off muttering something about wasting his time and leaving an utterly flabbergasted and somewhat angry blacksmith in his wake.
  10. I have added an entirely new chapter at this point, so all of Chapter 9 will be new material. I always felt that it was odd to go from Syler arriving in Kubei and meeting Bronwyn straight to Havert setting up his party where we meet Growald and have a big fight. I wanted to ease things in as well as properly introduce Alltis and Growald and provide a more natural transition to life in Kubei. In the first part, I reunite Havert and Syler as well as introduce Alltis. I also establish more firmly that Alltis and Havert are both genuine believers of the Way and also do fall in love fairly quickly. This is also where Bronwyn beings to figure out that Syler isn't exactly marching lock step with the Way. Next part will cover Growald's intro as well as a snippet of Lamastus following up on the search for Syler's sister. This will become especially important because I am seriously considering dropping the entire journey to Sua Tles (where they are ambushed and Growald is captured). More on that will come later if I decide to go that route. ______________________ Chapter 9 And he shall be born innocent, unknowing of the future he will lead. His path shall take him to the darkest of places, but he will not give up. With loyal friends at his side, he shall overcome all in his path. But should a treacherous one join him, his fate will be uncertain indeed. — Prophecy of Panil of Enhorpe regarding the Master of Magic, 290 of the Second Age Village of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut Falquer 10 After the first thirty minutes of mindless drivel, Syler knew he would come to hate the bi-weekly worship gatherings. He surreptitiously looked around for a glimpse of Havert while the priest droned on with various platitudes and rules that he expected all good little followers of the Way to follow. It was mind numbingly boring for him, though he suspected that there were plenty here who were enthralled and felt closer to their gods simply by virtue of being here. It made him glad once more that the Elements didn't have such requirements among their followers. He managed to spot a tuft of red hair from a man sitting several rows in front of him and kept his eye on him until he could see his face. It took ten minutes for him to realize that it wasn't Havert, but just another hapless soul trapped in exile. He doubted it was a Kuti as none of the ones he had seen had any hair color except varying shades of blonde or light brown. As the first hour ticked by with no end in sight, he began to fidget. He never liked being still for too long, especially when there was good sunlight burning. Instead of being able to work, he was cooped up in this temple with around three hundred others listening to Wayic propaganda that meant nothing to him. To make matters even more depressing, this sort of meeting would take place twice a week. Beside him, Bronwyn kept her face blank and eyes forward seeming to pay rapt attention like most of the others. He had no idea what her personal feelings on the matter were. Like all of those allowed to live with some degree of freedom within the city, including him, she had been forced to swear loyalty to the Way. During the last two days, every time their conversation came to the point of religion, neither of them seemed too eager to go into detail. Syler didn't want to risk her informing on his unbelief and he could sense that she was keeping things about her past concealed from him. It wasn't that he minded her having secrets because, after all, he had his own, it was more that he was curious to know if she was also an unbeliever or if she had bought into the Easterner's Way. Finally, after an hour and a half, the priest closed his book and began blessing them. Syler's hopes rose that this wretched experience would soon be over and he could get back to work. As soon as he had finished blessing those gathered, the priest wished them a good day and retreated through a door at the back of the massive room. At last, they were given their freedom to go about their lives. On their way out, Syler began running through a mental list of all that he had to do in order to get the forge fully operational once more. Some of the supplies he needed were leftover from Bronwyn's father, but there was a lot that was missing and he had only just begun to find suppliers in this strange, haphazardly built city. If they were going to survive, that forge needed to be up and running. He was still a little overwhelmed at the notion of maintaining the forge on his own without anyone else to make sure he didn't make a mistake. In Sandrin, he always had Master Fitno to look over his shoulder and to handle most of the major work. Bronwyn's touch against his shoulder snapped him out of his ponderings. "Syler," she said softly, "there is a strange man behind us that I think is trying to get our attention." Syler had barely managed to turn around before he was nearly bowled over by someone grabbing him in a vise-like hug that force the air out of his lungs. It all happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that he was helpless against the man who now had him completely at his mercy. "Syler!" a familiar voice cried out uncomfortably close to his ear. Bronwyn took several steps back with wide eyes and uplifted brows. She was about to cry out for help when Syler managed to draw enough air into his lungs to sputter, "You can…let me…go now, Havert." When he was free, Syler gasped for air while Havert began to ramble in his excitement. "Heya Syler! I am so glad that I sawl ya here! I was 'fraid that I'd miss ya in all this crowd. I've been lookin' for you for days now, but I been busy. Howya doin'?" A few people who had been startled by Havert's initial greeting began to see that there was no danger or threat here and went back to their business. There were a few who remained looking on with curiosity or who had business in nearby stalls. Syler smiled weakly and said, "I was trying to find you, too, but it has been a wild few days." "Don't I know it! Things been wild here with alla us Sei settlin' in." He was all smiles with no trace of the chill that characterized their relationship during the journey here. It was as though he had completely forgotten their differences and was going back to their comparatively carefree days back in Sandrin. That was fine with Syler as he never wanted a rift between the two of them. Right now, they both needed each other more than ever in this strange and potentially hostile environment. "What do they have you doing?" asked Syler. "The Easterners set me up with a forge and expect me to run it." "Yea, I told 'em that I drove wagons so they done set me up with one and a team of horses and told me ta start findin' people who want me to haul their goods." With a nod and a grim smile, Syler responded, "That sounds like them. If anything, these Angvardi are efficient and they most definitely want to put us all where we are going to be most useful with a minimum of training needed." Bronwyn silently glided up behind Syler keeping him between herself and Havert. Though the shock had left her face, she didn't seem too sure about this strange man, but since it seemed that Syler knew him, she wasn't going to interrupt or call for him. Syler noticed her posturing and figured a little more formal introductions were in order. "Havert," he said with a gesture to his ersatz wife, "this is Bronwyn, my Angvardi appointed wife. Bronwyn, this is Havert Jakaras, the closest thing I have to a best friend." "It's good to see ya," Havert said with a lopsided grin. "Don't ya go easy on Syler here, he's gotta have a firm hand ta keep him in line." Bronwyn gave Syler a strange look, but responded with only the slightest of hesitations, "I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Jakaras." With a chuckle, Havert waved away her formality, "Mr. Jakaras is me Pa. I am Havert and always have been." He snapped his fingers as though remembering something. "Oh yea!" Havert gently grasped the forearm of one of the few remaining onlookers and guided her up next to him. "This is my wife, Alltis." He was absolutely beaming as he said, "Ain't she absolutely beautiful?" Alltis was an attractive woman, though at this moment, her cheeks were red as she smiled weakly. "I am glad to finally be able to meet you, Mr. Penion. Havert has told me so much about you." Syler nodded and, with considerably more restraint than his friend, said, "It is just Syler. How are you two getting along?" With a meek smile, she said, "We are quite happy together." She put her arm around Havert's waist and said, "Havert is a good man, the gods have blessed me immensely to have brought him into my life. I can only hope that they bless us with many strong children." Syler blinked a few times and cleared his throat. His eyes passed from one to the other to see if there was any jesting, but they both seemed serious. "So you are not at all upset at this forced marriage?" Alltis tilted her head slightly in confusion. "You shouldn't view Unity as a punishment, Syler. It is a gift for us all, the only hope for salvation. The gods paired you and your wife together for a reason, you should accept that and be happy." Syler's left eyebrow rose at that. He had not yet encountered someone who seemed so openly accepting of what had happened—least of all from among the Kuti women. "I believe that people should have the freedom to marry whom they want, not whom some distant, impersonal priest or god wants them to." "Don't ya mind Syler," Havert said in a lighthearted tone as he punched his friend in the shoulder. "He hadn't yet taken to the truths of the Way. Give him a bit and he'll come around." "I doubt it," grumbled Syler. From beside him, Bronwyn said quietly, "You should be careful what you say in public, Syler. The Haresu would not take your words lightly." Syler didn't need to be convinced in the truth of her words. He had been a little taken aback at Alltis' response and had let his tongue get the better of him. "Where do you two live?" he asked, hoping to change the subject. "We're 'bout three blocks north," replied Havert as he pointed up the street. "It ain't a large house, but it is cozy and works just fine for the two of us." "We have a forge not far from here," said Syler. He looked over at Bronwyn and asked, "Would we be able to have some company?" Her eyes went to Alltis for a moment before she nodded. "Then would you like to come over for a time? I might even be interested in setting up some business with you to haul the ore and wood I will need for the forge." "We'd love ta!" Havert exclaimed without pause. Alltis smiled and said nothing. Syler did notice that her gaze didn't leave Bronwyn's and wondered if there was something going on between the two Kuti that he wasn't catching. He decided to leave it alone because it wasn't his business and if she felt like talking, Bronwyn would tell him.
  11. This chapter covers what used to be the bulk of the previous chapter. I split it off both to give the other chapter more room as well as to allow me to expound a little more on this chapter. I try to keep my chapters between 5000 and 7000 words and this fits right in between at about 6100 words. In this, readers get their first glimpse at Terulan politics including its king, the relationship between various future players (Amberis, Gevas Rael, Ianara, Setpinius, Teaque, and Whaetis) in the Teladian version of the Game of Thrones. It also gives a bit more history regarding the post-Terrand (prophet from the Prologue) repercussions (a massive war and lots of destruction). As I hope is becoming more and more apparent, the Prologue wasn't just some random event I decided to throw in because I thought it would be cool to have a prophet immolate himself. That singular event is going to prove exceptionally crucial to the future. For those who haven't read this before (if there are any), this is the spelling out of the "Big Prophecy" that drew so much attention in the last chapter. This prophecy will be one of several that are essentially guidelines to the rest of the series. Some of it is spelled out here by the characters, other things will remain mysteries until they are fulfilled at a later time. In this, I managed to give a little more rounded explanation of what was going on than the original, fairly rushed and choppy version. The entire series is a combination of warfare, drama, and politics, depending on which line you are looking at. Obviously, Syler is going to heavily feature warfare and drama. Uthas and Amberis will heavily feature political themes. Raella will be a combination of drama and politics. Right now, those are the "Big Four" plotlines that will merge and splinter in Book 2. _________________ Chapter 8 In Angvard, the Emperor rules with an iron fist and absolute power in an empire that utilizes centralized authority enforced by a carefully structured hierarchy. In Terula, the King rules through a careful balance of threats and alliances in a kingdom that is more a confederation of noble lords and nobles than a unified nation. — Politics in the Two Nations by Sage Su Royal Palace Terula City, Kingdom of Terula Falquer 8 The great bronze doors that led into the royal hall of King Gevas Rael opened silently on their hinges, but the subtle change in the air was enough to alert those inside of the arrival of the Grandmaster Wizard. The king of Terula was holding court with various nobles and did not like to be interrupted even by Setpinius. He fixed the wizard with a glare as the intruder walked the length of his hall to where the throne was seated. The other nobles looked at him with a mixture of disdain and trepidation. Few of these non-magic born were fond of beings who could wield arcane powers that could strip their skin off with hardly a thought. They preferred to think themselves as having greater power because they held command over lands and armies and did not like to be reminded that wizards and mages were capable of taking all of that away with the wave of a hand. That very fact was enough to inspire some fear among them as nobody in their right mind crossed a mage, much less a wizard who was capable of even more destructive magic. "I trust there is a good reason for this interruption, Grandmaster Wizard," the king said in an icy voice. He did not share his noble's fear of magic, though only a very few people knew why. While the days of summary executions for attempting to appear before the king uninvited were long over, that didn't mean he was happy to see Setpinius or that there wouldn't be repercussions if he didn't think the interruption was worth it. "Yes, my king," Setpinius said after a deep bow. "A prophecy has been delivered that your majesty would be most interested in." "Would I now?" There was a bit of bemusement in King Rael's voice. The prophets often tried to convince him to see one of their prophecies even if they often proved to be insignificant or a false branch. That Setpinius was delivering it in person indicated something was out of the ordinary. His calculating eyes flashed from annoyed to almost interested. In his experience, if the prophets led by the wily Xalent had managed somehow to get their rivals to deliver their messages, then there must indeed be something of note happening. If so, this might prove amusing because he took great pleasure in keeping the various magical colleges in check by playing their rivalries against each other. He liked to make sure each of them were frequently brought low simply to keep them humble. It was never good to allow one of them to get too powerful or cocky in their belief that they curried his favor because then they might start upsetting the balance of power that kept them all in check and him in power. It was fun enough when he was the cause of their humiliation, but when they did it to each other, as long as it didn't get too out of hand, that was even better. "Yes, my king," repeated Setpinius with a tinge of nervousness causing his voice to rise slightly. "You gave express instructions to be informed immediately if a prophecy concerning the Master of Magic were to surface." He presented the rolled parchment to the king as he continued, "One has been delivered." The nobles were silent as they awaited the king's response. Everyone who was anyone in the kingdom knew that any prophecies or visions of the Master of Magic were of the utmost importance. The diviners had decreed that the Coming Darkness of Chaos was nigh and the priests had concurred. The end times were coming, all the signs were in alignment or would soon be. Even if all of the continent could be set against the Chaos as one, they needed a leader, one who was prophesied about long ago, one who was the Master of Magic. The earliest prophecies regarding this Master of Magic dated back over fifteen hundred years to the year 847 of the First Age when Prophet Jganad mentioned that magic would be brought under control by some force that had never been seen before. Though it was not known at the time what various prophecy tangents were referring to, prophets by the early second century of the Second Age had come to realize that these prophecies were referring to a single individual. The largest breakthrough came in 429 of the Second Age when Master Prophet Terrand of Malorez received a prophecy giving clear instructions regarding who this One would be. News of this prophecy had caused Emperor Caterin of Angvard to try to take the prophet by force so he could discover that information. That action, as well as the prophet's self destruction and subsequent loss of the prophecy, started one of the largest wars between the two feuding nations. The War of Lost Prophecy was considered the darkest of all wars. At the time, the Angvardi Empire was far larger and more powerful than Terula and controlled all of the provinces on both sides of the River Tuo. The Terulans were furious that such crucial information had been lost through Angvardi recklessness and had immediately marched on the north. The Angvardi had been equally furious that their emperor had gone against the Way and, at the encouragement of the Tetrand of archpriests, rebelled against the Imperial forces in a terrible civil war that negated all of Angvard's advantages. Every realm or province from the forests of Hensroth to the wastelands of Malorez were covered in blood and drowned in tears. Within five years, Emperor Caterin had been assassinated by a religious fanatic, as was his eldest son and his daughter. Of his offspring, only his second son survived and he did so only by humbling himself before the High Priests and repenting of his father's sins. Even then, Angvard lost all of its territory south of the River Tuo and never again enjoyed such superiority over Terula. Five more years of fighting with the Terulan realms only managed to further punctuate the horrific loss of power that Angvard had. By the time both sides were weary of fighting, the Tetrand gained great power in Angvard and would hold it for many centuries. As part of the peace treaties that had been overseen by the Tetrand, any piece of information or prophecy regarding the One was shared between the Angvardi and Terulan Orders of Prophets. Nobody wanted to see a repeat of the carnage that resulted from that fateful event, even after all these centuries. "Leave us," Rael said to the various nobles. They were not pleased at being dismissed and made it known by their frowns and looks of hatred aimed at the wizard. Still, they were not willing to disobey the king when prophecy of this nature was at stake and filed out in an acceptable amount of time. When the last had left and the bronze doors were sealed leaving just the king and master wizard within, Rael spoke again, "Now, tell me what this new prophecy has said." "It might be best if you read it yourself. It was inscribed by the Master Prophet himself from a vision he and all of his prophets saw." "All of his prophets?" echoed Rael with skepticism in his voice. "Yes, my king, all of them. It is rare for more than two prophets to receive a prophecy at the same time, but it is not unheard of. Xalent himself said that all of the prophets fell into their trance at the same time and received the same prophecy." "Has such a thing happened before?" Setpinius shook his head. "Not to anyone's knowledge." Rael's eyes widened slightly and he held out his hand. "Let me read it." The king took the offered parchment and read what it said with a stony, hardened face. Beware, sons and daughters of Teladia, For the time of great Darkness is at hand. The one who sits upon the Southern throne with his bride of the North Shall not see death before the Age shall end. For good or for ill, the Chaos shall come And with it bring change the world has never seen. For Teladia to survive, the tangents of prophecy must be united And a true Master of Magic must come forward. All other endeavors shall fail if not under his banner, For without him hope does not exist. The rivers of blood that taint the lands have summoned him And the destruction that has been wrought stirs his heart. Mourn, men of the East, for your efforts were in vain, Weep, women of the East, for your sacrifices were for naught. The sun has shone upon your lands for an age, But the time for it to set is here. Out of the West, hope is born. One who will Master Magic will arise. Behind him shall be the strength of many nations. Before him shall all who stand in opposition fall into Chaos. And he shall be known by the following: He will be a stranger in many lands, but be welcomed by all. War will not be his choice, but it will dominate his life. He seeks not to lead, but men will follow him. Woe unto the nation of the North, For you have been found wanting. The blood of the prophet of Malorez coats the throne And it shall be answered for with fresh blood. Woe unto the nation of the South, For the heresy that sprang up from within. Your lies shall doom many who believe them, And when they are exposed, you will be humbled. Woe unto the nation of the Sada, For you have taken in false prophets. Your schemes and greed have brought danger to all, And the worst of the Coming Darkness shall befall you. Blessings be upon you, people of the Sei, For you have been tried and found true. Long have you toiled, beset on all sides, But never have you broken and you now stand proud. For from the sons of the Sei shall the One be born. He is blind to his purpose, but marches ever toward it. No man shall know his name until he breaks the veil And does that which cannot be undone. Blessings be upon you, people of Subeleth, For you are strong and glorious. Long have you guarded the secrets all have sought, Your reward shall soon be made evident. For from the daughters of Subeleth shall the Guide be found. And she shall follow the One on his path. For without her, the One shall stray, And all hope for the children of Teladia shall vanish. Days of Darkness are near, And Chaos shall be unleashed. Teladia's fate hangs by a thread, Stray too far and it shall break. The king was silent for many long minutes after finishing without reaction. Setpinius remained standing without interrupting him for to do so would result in the king's wrath. After a while, Rael reread the prophecy several times before rolling it back up and handing it to the wizard. "I want the prophets' full interpretation before me before the ink even dries," he said at last. "My king, rarely are prophecies so explicit." He was rewarded with an icy stare and didn't say anything further. "I have spoken," the king said with the wave of his hand. It was a clear dismissal, but Setpinius couldn't leave just yet. "My king," he said hesitantly, "there is more." The icy glare quickly turned into one of molten fury. "It had better be good." "I told you that all the prophets received this prophecy at once, but there was something else. One prophet apparently fell into a violent trance seconds before the others. Xalent feels that he experienced something abnormal, something that was either caused by whatever caused this mass prophecy or perhaps even was the cause." "Where is he?" said Rael loudly, "Bring him before me!" "I would, my king, except he is missing." "Define 'missing,'" Rael said. His eyes had narrowed and the edges of his mouth tightened in displeasure. "He is no longer in the Tower. He somehow got around all of the magical wards and the guards did not see him. There is no trace of him anywhere, not since the prophecy was delivered." Rael now knew why Xalent sent a wizard, the old man was wise enough to know that he wouldn't take such news well. It was better for the prophets if the bearer of such news was not one of their number. For a few moments, the king considered lashing out at the hapless wizard, but decided against it. The wizard was not the one who made the prophecy or caused the prophet to go missing. "Offer a thousand pieces of gold for the one who finds his location. Five thousand if they bring them before me of their own accord," the king decreed. "See that the dispatches are sent out personally, Grandmaster Wizard, and be especially sure to send a copy of all documents pertaining to this to the Angvardi." Setpinius beat a hasty retreat and went to where the dispatch riders were stationed to send out the bounty letters. As humiliating as it was, it was better than facing the king's wrath. Even as he did such a menial task, he plotted his revenge against Xalent and the prophets. Thirty minutes later, King Rael looked over his advisors and generals with a keen eye as they read the prophecy he had first seen half an hour ago. Their reaction was similar to his, and for good measure. It didn't take a prophet to interpret that Terula was not kindly looked upon in it, nor was their Angvardi allies to the north. He had summoned them to come up with their reaction to this revelation so they could help avoid this prophecy coming to pass. "General Whaetis, how many of the new recruits are ready to be deployed?" he asked after he had let them digest the news for a few minutes. The scarred and rugged looking general answered with only a short hesitation. "You have three full infantry battalions at your disposal, my king, six thousand men." Rael nodded, "Send them north to Kasas Sei and have them begin searching for the One. I want him found and brought here." "Those men are needed to reinforce General Saliss in his campaign against the Create," objected Amberis Rael in a calm voice. His arms were crossed as he sat back in his chair as if he were trying to convey a sense of nonchalance that the king knew was nothing more than an illusion. As the first cousin to the king, Amberis had a birthright to these meetings, but that did not mean that he was always welcome. King Rael had spent far more time than he would have liked trying to sort through his cousin's machinations. Though Amberis was a loyal Rael, he did still tend to look after his own interests and those didn't always agree with the crown. Rael gave his cousin a cold glare that he hoped conveyed his unwillingness to tolerate their normal games today before replying. "Nothing is more important than finding the Master of Magic. Everything depends upon him and I will not allow him to fall into the hands of another. The Create can wait a season to be conquered, if we miss our opportunity now, all will be lost." His eyes scanned the room, "Is that clear?" There was a chorus of agreeing murmurs. "What shall we tell the Angvardi?" General Whaetis asked as he stroked his short goatee. "They will want to know why we are sending men into their conquests when the agreement was that we would focus on the south." It was a valid question and Rael acknowledged it with a nod. "I will send a letter to my wife explaining the situation. She will understand and will value the extra men in that volatile region. From what I hear, the Sua and the Kosh are putting up quite the resistance and the northern regions of the Sei are not yet under her control. Three battalions would be a welcome relief so her generals can rest assured that their backs are safe while they fight the Westerners." "This action will delay our ability to bring the Create into Unity, the priests won't like that," said Ianara Rael, the only woman in the hall. As the king's younger sister, she was given access to meetings no other woman could have part of. Ianara was one of the few in this hall that the king truly trusted. The two of them had always been close, especially after their father had died and he became king. In the frequently treacherous political environment that the royal city breed, they both recognized the need to be able to trust each other. Numerous men had tried to weasel their way into the royal family by wooing her, but she refused to marry and create another threat for her beloved brother. Numerous times, she had reported the names of various lords and even a governor who tried to whisper treason in her ears with plots of marrying them and using their armies to take the crown for the two of them. "That may be, but the priests will be even more angry if the Master of Magic were to slip from our grasp," countered the mage, Teaqe, Chief of the Battlemages. Teaqe was an unimposing man on the outside, but he had command of magic that even some wizards envied. That skill had allowed him to rise through the ranks of mages and come to lead them. Of those who wielded magic, Rael liked Teaqe the most. The man had proven to be competent and told him the truth when asked. That didn't mean he trusted the mage completely, but of those of his high position, he was the most trustworthy. "As the king said, the most important thing is to find the One." "And what if the gods were waiting for us to bring more into the Way as a sign of our devotion to them?" Ianara countered. She had always been a deeply religious woman and one of the largest supporters of Unification and the Tetrand. The western campaigns were not simply a matter of politics for her, but rather an issue of faith. Everything was secondary to the needs of the Way and she was willing to forfeit control of the One as long as he ended up in the hands of fellow believers, even if they were Angvardi. "Then why would the gods send the prophecy if it was not meant to warn us about the need to find the One?" retorted Teaqe. Several of the other men grumbled. Teaqe, as a mage, believed that magic was a gift of the gods, particularly Tantis the Founder who created magic. He believed that all prophecy came directly from Tantis through his special link to those who could wield magic. Tantis sent prophecy as a means to guide his children and lead them along the correct path and to ignore it would be to ignore the direct will of the gods. Since not all prophecy actually came true, they argued that those false branches were instances where man heeded the words of other prophecy and avoided those fates. Sometimes, the false prophecies were of terrible things and avoiding those fates meant that man did what was right in the eyes of the gods. If those prophecies that became false were of good things, it was believed that man was not following the will of the gods and needed to change. Not all agreed with that reasoning. Ianara was of the school of thought that believed that prophecy only indirectly came from the gods and was rather a series of after effects of creation. They believed that while prophecy might come true, it was not destined to do so if it ran contrary to the will of the Tetrarchy of gods. It was a series of possibilities of which some might possibly be insights into the future, but could also simply be false branches. Since much prophecy was part of the false branches and didn't come true, they argued that to act solely upon prophecy at the expense of the direction of the gods was folly and would only stir the anger of the Tetrarchy. To them, prophecy that went against the will of the gods should be ignored because it was the gods that truly controlled the future, not prophecy. Ianara in particular had always felt that it was the supreme will of the gods to see the entire world united under the Way, so anything that might put that in jeopardy was to be discarded and ignored. "Perhaps this was sent by Chaos to lead us astray," Ianara shot back, "It would be just like him to try to distract us from the path of Unity by dangling a new prophecy of doom before us." Though it wasn't officially part of the Tetrand's doctrine, there were always dark rumors that some of prophecy was sent by Chaos himself to confuse the faithful. She had managed to push Teaqe's buttons properly because to charge that prophecy came from anywhere but Tantis himself was considered blasphemy to him. "All prophecy comes from Tantis, the creator of magic! To ignore his warning about the One will only lead us to disaster." "If the prophecy came from Tantis, then it must be a warning, right?" Teaqe sensed a trap in his rival's words, but couldn't deny what she said without violating his own beliefs. "Yes, it is a warning that the Coming Darkness is close indeed and that we need to focus on finding the Master of Magic." "Then if it is a warning, we must be doing something wrong as a nation. The prophecy clearly pronounces woes upon us and the Angvardi, but how can this be if we are following the Way and bringing Unity to more people than ever? Surely Tantis cannot be angry with us if we are doing his bidding, so then why would a prophecy of doom come from him?" Teaqe had to be careful in how he answered. If his beliefs were true, then for Tantis to send such a prophecy meant that he was angry with Terula. He had to be very careful in suggesting a reason for that anger that would not make it seem as though following the Way and bringing Unity to other nations was that cause. "Perhaps bringing Unity to others is not enough," he suggested. "Perhaps Tantis is warning us that if we focus solely upon Unity, we will miss our opportunity to find the Master of Magic." "Without Unity, we are doomed anyway," she said in a raised voice. "The priests have said so many times. Even your prophecy has said that all of Teladia must be united if victory against the Coming Darkness is to be had." "Yes, but Unity can only be had with the Master of Magic to foster it." "So you are saying that the gods cannot save us without help?" charged Ianara. "Enough," the king interjected before Teaqe could form a reply that would only deepen their rivalry. "I believe that both goals must be carried out." He glanced at his sister, "Yes, we must bring Unity to all of Teladia." He shifted his eyes to look at his battlemage, "We must also find the Master of Magic. We can do each without compromising the other. Six thousand men will delay the Unity of the Create, but not by much. It will still happen, even if it is delayed a month. Their armies were defeated handily at Morden's Keep and will not quickly recover. We might not be able to take their city without extra men, but at least we can eventually provide reinforcements. They have n such hope." Ianara opened her mouth to object, but was cut off by Rael's raised hand. "No, my sister, it is far more important to send those extra men to help find the One." "And what of the Krue?" asked Amberis. "Subeloth was mentioned prominently in the prophecy, something about a 'Guide.' We have never heard prophecy regarding that individual before." Rael had considered what to do about this Guide that had been mentioned. The plan had been for Angvard to conquer the nations north of Jotolos while the Terulans conquered everything south of there. The Lavose and the Jotolos had already submitted to the Way and needed no conquering. Once the majority of their enemies had been conquered and their lands secure, they would join forces in the north and attack the Krue who lived in the Subeloth Woods. The Krue were by far the most dangerous of the Western Peoples and neither the Angvardi or the Terulans wanted to face them in their own forests without overwhelming numbers to even the odds. A campaign in that dark forest would be very costly and could open their flanks up to attacks, that is why it was so important to make sure there were none elsewhere that could oppose them. "We may have to delay that for now," he replied. "There is no way to directly deal with the Guide at this point. We needn't bother with the Guide if we can get the One. The prophecy says that she will guide him, so it is entirely possible that if we can get the One, the Guide will come to him even if he is in our hands." "The prophecy also says that without the Guide, the One will stray," a new voice added. Rael turned his gaze to the old man who had spoken up. "King Rael," said Va of the Sages, "I urge you not to be hasty. Consider my council before you take action." Rael dipped his head in respect. "Speak, my teacher." "The Sages have always known that the Master of Magic's fate was not certain," said Va. "Prophecy has supported this, as have our own meditations. You must be very careful when dealing with the One, careful that you do not interfere in the wrong ways. This new prophecy says 'Teladia's fate hangs by a thread, stray too far and it will break.' Nothing is guaranteed in life, not even the existence of our world. Many terrible things have happened because men decided to meddle in prophecy or worse, tried to force it to come true. Do not be so quick to rush to interfere in what might come that you end up cutting that thread." Rael had grown up learning from Va and respected his opinion greatly, possibly more than he did anyone else in the hall. To hear such words from his old mentor were not comforting. "What would you have me to, Sage Va?" Va let out an exasperated sigh that ended in a painful sounding wheeze. It took a few moments for him to recover before he was able to respond, "The Sages do not yet know the proper course." "So then you know nothing?" Amberis said. Va raised a single bony finger and said in an unwavering voice, "No, I did not say that. I said that the Sages do not know the proper course just yet. That does not mean we do not know who might." "Who might know?" the king asked. "Prophecy can come true, or it can be a false branch. We have always known this. Much of prophecy centers around discovering which prophecies are of false branches and which could still come true. That being said, prophecy is the art of what might come true, not necessarily what will come true." "But prophecy has guided many to the right choice," argued Teaqe. "True," replied Va, "it has indeed. Prophecy that is on the true branches will always come true. The trick is finding out which branches are true branches and which are false." "And how do we know which branches involving the Master of Magic are true?" asked Rael. "Why, my boy, all of them are." This drew sounds of confusion from the group. "But you just said that prophecy has false branches," said Captain Pondj of the Royal Guard. "It does," answered Va, "but not when it comes to the Master of Magic. There has not ever been found a single prophecy among the false branches that concerns the One. Therefore, it has been believed by the Sages for centuries that all of them are true." He raised his hand to forestall any questions until he could finish. "It is a sure thing that there will rise a Master of Magic. We know for certain that he is a male and that he will be key to defeating the Coming Darkness. There are things tied to him that we believe are set and cannot be changed. They will happen no matter what we try to do. "What can be changed, however, is what is dangerous. The prophecies never say that he will have victory over Chaos. They may say that without him, victory is impossible, but they never say that he will be victorious. He may be the key, but that does not mean he will unlock the door we desire. Prophecy says there is a way to avert the Coming Darkness, but it never guarantees success. "It is possible that things were put in place to happen according to how they were meant to happen, but our meddling will disrupt those things and give victory to the Coming Darkness. Our very actions may run contrary to how they were meant to go and thus, by our attempts to bring about prophecy, we may in fact bring our doom upon us." "Again, what would you have me do?" Rael asked. "I have not gotten to the part that matters yet, my boy. You have always been impatient, always wanted to get to the destination without taking the journey." Rael bowed his head and said in a penitent voice, "Forgive me, Sage, but I need your wisdom." "There is a way to see the future that cannot be altered," Va continued. "The Sages have long worked with them to gain further glimpses of what will come. Their vision is limited, but it is always accurate if properly interpreted." "The Seers!" Teaqe exclaimed. "You are talking about the Seers." "Yes, I am. Women who are seers receive visions in their sleep. Those visions are always accurate from a certain perspective. They may be vague or they may be exact, but there are no false visions. What they see is limited and they cannot often see far into the future, but when they do see things, it is always wise to heed them." "So the Seers are able to see who the One is?" asked Rael. "Not necessarily, but it is possible. Be careful, though. Many things that the Seers see are not directly what comes true. They may be allegorical or are from a different perspective. Many have dismissed seers because what they said didn't come true, but that was not because the visions were false. The Seers see what will come to pass, but they may not interpret it correctly and thus, what is true appears to be false." "Have the Seers ever seen anything pertaining to the Master of Magic?" asked Ianara. She was still skeptical, but she was willing to hear any option that didn't involve delaying Unification in the south. Va shook his head, "To my knowledge, they have not. That doesn't mean they haven't, just that they have not ever interpreted what they saw as having been related to the One. Remember, prophecy often deals with far off events, but the visions of seers is almost always quick to come about. The longest reach of any seer's vision I am aware of is only around a year and a half." "So we need to inquire of the Seers," stated Rael. Before he could summon the Mistress of the Seers, Va stopped him. "Do not waste your time, my boy. The Seers here know nothing that would help you. I have asked them repeatedly and the answer is always no." "They could have received a vision in conjunction with this recent prophecy," suggested Amberis. "They had not for I was with them before I was summoned to come here," Va replied. "But I urge you to consider something else. There is an old prophecy, one that is often overlooked due to its short nature. It says: 'Through the dreams of one from Zazasp shall the salvation of all be found.' I personally believe it refers to the Master of Magic, and the dreams could refer to a seer's dreams." Amberis stood up, "Then we need to speak with the Seers after all." "No, because we have no seers from Zazasp living here," said Va with a hint of exasperation. "Where is Zazasp? Is it a city or a kingdom? I have never heard of it before," asked General Whaetis. "That is because the name is no longer in use. Before the First Age, the kingdom of Zazasp was a powerful one centered northeast of the Terul Mountains but encasing a great deal of land all throughout the region. By the end of the ancient era, the kingdom fell and was nearly destroyed by an unknown invader. From what we can tell, Zazasp's capital lay somewhere in the Eascand Desert." "Why would a great kingdom be centered in a desert?" asked Ianara. The old man smiled kindly. "My dear, because it wasn't a desert at that time. There are some ancient tablets that have been found that indicate that the battle to defeat the Zazasp Kingdom was so large and devastating that it turned the surrounding region into a wasteland." Rael had a frown on his face when he said, "But nobody lives in the Eascand Desert now." "That is only somewhat true, my boy. The Krue venture there sometimes, but they are not the ones you seek. No, the survivors of Zazasp were forced south into slightly better lands. I believe their descendants are known as the Kuti. I suggest that instead of searching in vain for the One, you should instead search for a seer among the Kuti who might be able to provide you an exact answer as to who the Master of Magic might be. "And," he added with a pointed look at General Whaetis, "I do not believe that marching an army through their lands will help our situation. Armies tend to be rather prone to violence and rash actions. Perhaps a more subtle approach is needed." "What sort of approach?" Amberis asked. "I believe that it might be time for us to utilize the Shalktra in the North." Rael's eyebrows rose in surprise. "The Angvardi have never been fond of us using them in their lands. There is a lot of bad blood between them and the Northerners." "All the more reason to use them," Va said with another, decidedly devious smile. "The Angvardi will not trust them nor will they like their presence. The Angvardi are the ones who invaded the Kuti, so I doubt there are very many good feelings toward them. Bringing someone in whom the Angvardi dislike may very well endear the Kuti to them and make them more willing to help." Ianara wasn't entirely convinced. "But can they be trusted to exercise restraint?" Va's bony shoulders rose for a moment, then fell. "I do not know, but I believe that they would have more success than an entire Terulan army. Armies tend to breed terror and mistrust more than anything else." "Then that is what we shall do," declared Rael with finality. "I will send a letter to the praetor himself. I will make sure he understands the delicate nature of this mission and that his men conduct themselves with the utmost caution and restraint. There will be no room for error in this. I will also send word to my wife to ensure that the Angvardi offer no resistance."
  12. Okay, I made another executive decision and broke apart this chapter from its original form. Originally, the story went straight from Setpinius leaving Xalent's office and going before the King and his court. That is now being shoved into Chapter 8 and I am expanding events in the Tower. I want to establish a little more of the situation with the prophets to better clarify and explain/set up future events. Plus, I decided to move the introduction of Aitin up to this point. I never felt very good about Aitin's role in the original draft. Despite his importance to the overall story (which really, really comes to play at the end of Book 2 and later books), he was kinda an afterthought with a few blurbs about him and nothing else. I want to change that here. I did make a few changes to the previous part of the chapter. I don't think there were too many (the editing took place over a few days and I forgot that I already submitted any of Chapter 7). Of particular note to anyone who read the previous part before it was edited is the change of the chapter intro quote as well as a brief explanation of what the Tetrand is. The Tetrand is equivalent to the College of Cardinals or perhaps the bishops of the Catholic Church. They are the governing body of the Way under the four High Priests. Like the High Priests, there are separate branches in both Angvard and Terula. The term "Tetrand" can also refer to the "church" of the Way as well. And Brendo, I did fix your note. _____________ Without another word, the wizard grabbed the parchment with the prophecy written on it and stormed out of the Master Prophet's office. Xalent smirked to himself as his rival fled, but he didn't give himself much time to savor the small victory. One of his own had managed to escape the Tower and if he wasn't found soon, there would be hell to pay. There were already enough tensions between the prophets and their guards and when it came to issues regarding prophecies like this, soon the king and the Tetrand would be breathing down his neck. After giving the Grandmaster Wizard enough time to get away from his office, Xalent exited the room and sought out the commander of the Guard, Captain Lordis Maoler. The armored man was talking to three of his officers and High Prophet Hangle, one of Xalent's assistants. The conversation didn't seem to be going well for the old prophet who was struggling to answer questions that he simply knew nothing about. Part of Xalent felt sorry for the man and began to wonder if this would be a good time to suggest permanent retirement. Hangle had served the Order well for decades, but unlike Xalent himself, age had bent and twisted his body and clouded his mind. He meant well, but good intentions were not enough to train new prophets or oversee the volumes of prophecy that was generated by the Tower. Xalent cleared his throat in a well practiced gesture and gently interrupted, "Captain, I believe I may be of better service than High Prophet Hangle. He was quite shaken by the recent prophecy and looks like he could use a rest." Maoler didn't appear pleased, but he was wise enough not to press an old man who was nearing senility. "Very well," he said with a huff. "You are dismissed, High Prophet." Hangle's eyes spoke words of gratitude to his superior that words couldn't convey at the moment. "As you wish, Master Prophet. I shall retire to my chambers if you should have any more need of me." With a pat on the departing man's back, Xalent murmured, "I hope not, old friend." Speaking up, he said, "Get some rest and pray to the gods for guidance." As soon as the other man was gone, the Guards turned on the Master Prophet. "What news do you have of Prophet Aitin?" Captain Maoler demanded. "How did he escape?" Unlike Hangle, Xalent had not yet succumbed to old age but had plenty of vigor and fire left in him. He wasn't about to allow the blame for this to fall entirely on the Prophets. "I might ask you the same question, Captain." There was an edge in his voice, but it was not as harsh as it could have been. "It is the responsibility of the Prophet's Guard to prevent rogue prophets from escaping into the world." The captain poked a finger in Xalent's chest as he retorted, "And it is the responsibility of the Master Prophet to keep his Order in line. I find it hard to believe that Aitin simply found a hole in our defenses on a whim. This had to have been carefully planned out ahead of time in case of an emergency." Were it any other man, Xalent would have burned his hand off with the limited gift that prophets possessed. Maoler, like all of the Guard, wore enchanted armor and typically carried amulets or wards to repel the type of weak spells that prophets wielded. A mage or wizard could easily break through such protection, but not prophets. "You must be truly desperate if you would dare accuse the Order of having some sort of escape plan. What proof do you have of such a thing? Have I not always worked with you and the Guard whenever a weakness is discovered or a prophet is growing too restless?" "Just because you worked with us in the past doesn't mean that you didn't hold back." Now Xalent made no attempt to hold back his anger and indignation. "I want him back as much or more than you. The man has information that we desperately need, and the last thing I want is a prophet on the loose. I have ever only been loyal to the gods and followed the Tetrand's laws to the letter. Why would I have something to do with losing valuable information that could help us all survive the Coming Darkness and everything I have worked for all of my life." "How am I to know the machinations of the prophets? You are always so secretive with your prophecies and I know that your kind resents us and what we do." "That may be so, captain, but that doesn't mean we are going to be foolish enough to go against you or the Tetrand. We are on the same side in this and more importantly, you need my help and the help of the Order." Begrudgingly, Maoler pulled back his hand and turned away with a growl of frustration. "This is going to reflect poorly on both of us, Xalent. If we don't get him back, it could cause a lot of trouble for both of our orders." "Don't I know it," Xalent agreed. "Unfortunately, my influence outside these walls is extremely limited. It is going to be up to the Tetrand to do something about this." Maoler scratched his chin. "Yes, I believe you might be right. The last thing we need is for the king, or worse the wizards, to get a hold of Aitin. I will talk to the High Priests and see if they can't subtly convince the Shalktra to get involved." Xalent tried to repress the shudder at the mention of the Shalktra. Still, there was no other way he could see to keep this situation at least somewhat contained. Desperate times called for desperate measures. * * * * * South of Terula City, Kingdom of Terula Prophet Aitin was terrified. He did not know where he was or what the gods had in store for him, but he did as he was instructed. When he had received his latest prophecy, it had left him in a daze. He didn't know exactly how he did it, but when he was finally able to regain his focus, he was on the road out of Terula City. How he managed to get past the Prophet's Guard or through the towering white wall was a complete mystery to him. That didn't matter now, though. He couldn't return to that gilded prison, not after what he had seen. People often believed that prophets knew their future because they received visions from the gods. Any honest prophet would tell you that such notion was completely false. Prophets only very rarely received visions that directly related to them or their lives. Most of their visions were messages from the gods sent to help guide their faithful followers and avoid calamity and disaster. Seers, on the other hand, almost never received dreams of things that weren't directly related to them. They saw things on a smaller scale and those who had mastered their gift could sometimes even direct their dreams toward answering a specific question or exploring a particular topic. Though they had a more limited scope of seeing, the women who made up the Cloister of Seers were just as crucial to understanding the bigger picture as prophets themselves. While prophets saw the bigger picture and the distant future, seers saw things that could happen tomorrow or in a few weeks. They rarely saw things that would happen more than a few years in the future. Nobody knew why there was such a separation between the genders of foreseers, that was just how the gods made magic work. That separation of two different gifts had been the way things were for thousands of years. Prophets received direct messages from the gods while seers were able to gain access to the dreams of the gods. They both worked together with their individual gifts to produce the most complete picture of the will of the gods as was humanly possible. Only the immortal gods of the Tetrarchy could see the entire future, but mortals were constantly in the pursuit of that knowledge and would use whatever gifts the gods saw fit to give them. Aitin wasn't quite sure what happened to him in the library when the vision came upon him. It started like any other prophetic vision he had received, with him receiving a prophecy as he normally did. He saw images, flashes, and shapes in a dark, milky haze and was mortified by what he heard and saw. He had read many prophecies that spoke of doom and judgment, but few would ever match the one he received that day. To make things more confusing, he somehow had the feeling that all of the prophets were receiving the same vision all at once. He kept getting glances of the other men of the Order gaping in dread at the things they saw and heard, but every time he turned his head to look at them, they vanished. Just as the prophecy came to an end, things changed and took him to a place he had never been before. His body began to shake and the vision took a dreamlike perspective with a first person perspective. He saw things and places through his own eyes as though he were actually there. He heard a clear, commanding voice tell him things that he must do and somehow, he knew what he had to do. It was as though the fog had cleared in his life and presented him with a road blazoned through fire and shadow and ended with the fate of the world in his hands. As he walked down the road that headed south to Soothei in the Terulan realm of Asquest, Aitin felt the burden that had been placed upon him. He didn't know why the gods had selected him of all people for this. He was just another prophet, nobody special. The end of the world was coming and he was but twenty and nine years old, a young man who had only been confirmed as a full Prophet of the Order for four years. There were men far more wise and qualified than he within the Order that would be better suited for this task. But who was he to question the gods? They had deemed him worthy of their task and so he would do as any of the faithful would and comply. Their wisdom was endless and his was finite. He was a loyal son of the Way, a follower of the great god Tantis, the Founder of All. When one as mighty as Tantis himself choose to speak with a mere mortal, that mortal had better listen. Even though he was terrified and wanted nothing more than to be back in the comforts of his quarters back in the Tower of Ester, he had a mission straight from the gods. He didn't know where his journey would take him or how it would end, but he would follow each step that the gods provided.
  13. Next half chapter is up. There was a decent break in this so I felt it was worth posting on its own. Not many changes, though I did greatly expound upon the description of the Tower based on information I developed later in the novel. Time to set up the rivalry between Prophets and Wizards and specifically Xalent and Setpinius, something that will absolutely explode later on down the line. I so love having all these different rivalries and confrontation. There are a lot in this series and all of the various parties will either be eliminated or eventually weave themselves into a single, larger story that will change Teladia forever. Fun stuff, if only I can keep up the interest in writing. EDIT: I made some changes to the original posting of this. There was a bit more information added and I expanded the section. More notes in the next post. ____________________ Chapter 7 Chapter 7 There is always tension between the various schools of magic. The mages resent the wizards for being stronger. The alchemists covet the charmers for their ability to work magic into objects. The prophets and seers resent all of the other schools for their being locked away. It is a never ending circle of rivalries and hatred that has existed since civilization was formed. — Lord Vatoor of South Equab Tower of Estar Terula City, Kingdom of Terula Falquer 8 Among the most recognizable structures in the capital city of Terula was the mighty Tower of Estar, where prophecies were made. While the Wizard's College in the southern part of the city was famed for its vast size, the prophets looked down upon the massive urban sprawl around them from the tallest structure in all of the city. The tower, constructed entirely out of black basalt and trimmed in shining steel that ran throughout the structure like veins of silvery blood. At its peak, some five hundred feet up, a massive torch provided a recognizable landmark for the city dwellers to know where they were at night. While the city was officially centered around the Royal Palace, unofficially, its citizens marked their social status and physical location based on their distance from the great black tower. The tower was surrounded by the Wall of Silence, a wall forty feet tall and made of gleaming, white granite. The contrast between the wall and the black tower it guarded was striking, intentionally so. Symbolically, the priests claimed that the Wall of Silence was there to serve as a protection from the wrath of the Tetrarchy when the prophets saw visions of horror and dread. The wall was there, they said, to remind them all of Featwel's loving embrace encompassing all due to their failures to be loyal to their gods. The blackness of the tower symbolized the potential evil that could be had from men who grew too proud and dependent upon prophecy rather than the words of the priests. The pure whiteness of the wall showed the purity of the Tetrarchy who protected their people from the harm of prophecy unchecked. The High Priests themselves often warned of the destruction and chaos that would come to idle prophecy being used by fallible men for their own purposes. The bright whiteness of the wall had a practical purpose, too. It was difficult for anyone to climb over its heights even in the shadows without being noticed. The Prophet's Guard was on constant vigil along that wall to watch and monitor the prophets in order to keep their potentially dangerous prophecies under control. Those guards were ever vigilant against unauthorized intruders and escapees and held no other duties or responsibilities. The Prophet's Guard was under the control of the Tetrand, the body of archpriests who, together with the four High Priests in each nation, led and guided those loyal to the Way. With twelve hundred men in the Guard divided into three shifts of four hundred each with one shift always on the wall itself, breaches in security were very few and far between. The Guard also had among its number several mages and a small number of wizards who had abandoned their loyalty to their own kind and sworn eternal allegiance to the Tetrarchy and the Tetrand. The prophets were only allowed out of the Tower on official business and were always escorted by members of the Guard to ensure that they did not speak to anyone out of turn. Those Guards who escorted the prophets on whatever business they might on occasion have were given explicit authority to kill any prophet without warning should they violate the Standing Law of Ester which stated that no prophet could speak, write, or otherwise transfer any prophecy to another without the King's or one of the four High Priest's permission until the prophecy was one year old. If any prophet were to spread a prophecy to unauthorized ears, those guards would not only kill the one who had been spoken to, but also the prophet himself. Prophets were among the most prized and protected of all wielders of magic, and for good reason. Many battles had been won or lost because of a failure to heed prophecy or an inaccurate interpretation of it. The fates of entire kingdoms had risen or fallen based on how powerful and accurate their prophets and seers were. Those who were found with the gifts of foresight were quickly rushed to the Order of Prophets and Seers based in the Tower of Estar where they would be watched over and tended to for the rest of their lives. As long as they didn't try to escape, they were treated well enough in their isolated communities. Those who did try to escape or refuse to cooperate and share their prophecies were brutally punished. If they continued to resist, they were executed. Even while Terulan armies were laying siege to Fulersbane and preparing to invade the Create, life was going on as normal within the Halls of the Prophets in Terula City until Prophet Aitin fell into a trance. This in and of itself was not abnormal as prophets did not always control when they received their prophecies, but what happened next was highly abnormal. Within seconds, the entire Order was aware of what was happening because they too went into a spontaneous prophetic trance. Even the women in the Cloister of Seers were affected. Aitin had been in the library reading up on prophetic interpretation when a vision struck him. Instead of collapsing into a comatose state as was normal, he began to writhe back and forth as though he was having a seizure. His fellow prophets quickly came to his aid, but within seconds they too were simultaneously struck by a vision. Though it was far less powerful than what struck Aitin, it was enough to attract the notice of the Prophet's Guard who sounded the alarm and went to full alert. The vision had been short and within minutes the prophets awoke and began telling of a horrific prophecy. Even as their guards tried to restore order, the prophets were in a near frenzy as they tried to explain what they had all seen. It was not long before the Mages and Wizards received word and rushed to the tower. Grandmaster Wizard Setpinius himself arrived with a dozen fellow wizards and scores of mages to assist in restoring order and calming down the prophets. It had been decades since such an uproar had been seen among the normally quiet halls of the prophets or their seer sisters, so news of what happened spread throughout the city like a wildfire. Grandmaster Setpinius personally received a report on what the prophecy foretold from Master Prophet Xalent while sitting in the prophet's office. As he read the parchment whereon the prophecy had been written, Setpinius' thick brows bunched together and the edges of his mouth drooped. By the time he finished, his face had grown pale and his hands were shaking slightly. "Are you sure this is what the prophecy said?" he asked as he folded the parchment and put it into his pocket. Xalent frowned and replied tartly, "Of course I am! I saw it myself. For Tantis' sake, we all saw it, myself included!" "I meant no offense, Master Prophet, but I must be sure before I tell the king," said Setpinius in a placating tone. Even one as powerful as the Grandmaster Wizard took care when it came to offending the prophets. Though they might not be particularly strong in traditional magical powers, prophets had knowledge of the future and were often able to use that knowledge to humble those who crossed them. Those that survived that humbling were few and fortunate indeed. Xalent let out a grunt and dismissed it. He thought things over for a few moments before saying in a reflective tone, "It all started when Prophet Aitin fell into a particularly violent Trance and then we all experienced it at once. According to those witnesses I have spoken to, Prophet Aitin was frenzied, not like the normal visions at all, but one of terrible violence that had him frothing at the mouth. That in and of itself is odd as prophets don't have violent visions, we fall into a deep, peaceful trance. Only the seers might have violent visions if their Sight Dreams are of unpleasant things, but I have never known a prophet to be so disturbed physically during their Trance. I have seen men collapse trembling in fear and misery after the Trance, but not before it. From what they witnesses said, this was unlike anything they have seen even from seers." "Well," Setpinius said, "where is this Aitin?" "Prophet Aitin," Xalent corrected. "He earned that title three years ago." All too often, wizards looked down upon all others, both magically gifted and not, simply because they possessed the most brute strength when it came to magic. Because of that, Xalent refused to allow any slight against those of his own Order, especially from the Grandmaster. "Yes, yes, where is Prophet Aitin?" the wizard asked with growing impatience in his voice. "I don't rightly know," said Xalent in a distant voice. "He seemed to have disappeared." "What!" Setpinius could not recall a time a prophet actually managed to actually escape the Tower. The master prophet didn't show any outward concern, but his mind was furiously trying to discover how the young man could have gotten out of the tightly secured tower the prophets were cordoned off in. It was concerning to think that there was a gap in security, and not just because it meant that someone could get out. He kept his thoughts to himself and maintained a cool façade. "Just as I said. Prophet Aitin seems to have evaded the guards and the magical barriers and has escaped. I have had the Guard sweep the tower and all surrounding grounds twice now and they are still out doing so for the third time. He cannot be found anywhere." Setpinius sprang to his feet and threw his arms up into the air, "That is unacceptable! How can someone who was the center of a prophecy of such magnificent importance be simply missing?" With a shrug, Xalent said, "We don't know. None of the perimeter alarms went off and none of the guards remember seeing him. Though, that doesn't surprise me as all of us were in an uproar and things were chaotic. Perhaps some of the magical barriers were lowered by reinforcements arriving to help calm things down." "How did such a thing happen? There are supposed to be safeguards for this. No prophet has ever escaped Estar!" "That isn't exactly true," Xalent said in a distant voice. "Nonetheless, it is most curious indeed. One would wonder if this weren't some sort of. . ." When he didn't finish his thought, Setpinius pressed him, "Some sort of what?" He received a cold stare for his query. "Some sort of prophet business. Leave me, I need to convene the Council and ponder upon what all of this means." Master Prophet or no, only the king could dismiss the Grandmaster Wizard and Setpinius was in no mood to be pushed around at this point. "No, you will answer me now and tell me what you think this could be!" "Or what?" The calmly voiced challenge hang in the air. "Don't push me, Xalent. This is too important for you to keep to yourself. I don't care about collegiate sovereignty right now, not for this. Tell me what you know." "You still haven't answered my question: or what? What is it that you are going to do should I not reveal my thoughts?" The wizard's eyes grew dark with anger and he brought his fists up to strike out. A bolt of lightning arced between his fists for a fraction of a second before shooting out at the prophet. It didn't reach its target, but instead hit an invisible shield and reversed itself back upon its caster. Setpinius gasped in pain as his own lightning burned through his robes and left a red blister on his chest. "Surely you don't think you can surprise a master prophet in his own chambers, do you Setpinius?" Xalent said in a condescending tone. "Do you forget that I see the future just as you see the sun rise every morning or the birds flying over the White Spires? Go ahead, try another spell, the results will remain the same. Do not cross me on this day, I have too many things that concern me to deal with your superiority complex." Even though their magic didn't quite work that way, it never did hurt to encourage the notion that it did if only to give their opponents pause. Xalent had the charm prepared because he knew Setpinius preferred to use the lightning elemental spells due to their flashiness. It had been a gamble, but one that paid off. If Setpinius' eyes had darkened before, they were darker than the pits of Chaos now. He was angry at himself for not seeing the simple reversal charm sitting on Xalent's desk. The charm was specifically attuned to repelling lightning and wouldn’t have worked on other elemental attacks. He didn't need to ask how the prophet knew he would use lightning, but believed him when he said that future attacks would suffer the same fate. Clearly Xalent had been prepared for this encounter. That was the worst part about dealing with prophets: they almost always seemed to know what was coming and were prepared for it.
  14. Ahhh, okay. In the original version, I always kinda felt that his purpose for helping them in the first place was too ambivalent, almost too trite. I felt that he was sort of shallow and random for helping foreigners against his own people as though it was just so I could have him in the story itself. This way, at least, I can build up a logical reason for him to have sided with Syler and betrayed his own people.
  15. I will fix up the sentence you pointed out. What do you mean, you know who/what Lamastus is? I thought that I made a good effort to show that he definitely has a lighter (or perhaps darker) side that he covers with humor and various quips. He is, more or less, flamboyant and flippant about many things.
  16. Well, that was quick. You must have been bored and looking for something to distract you. Anyway, I am very glad I was able to do something like what I did with this chapter. I was never entirely satisfied with how this part of the book went. We had only a tiny bit of information about Bronwyn's background and then there was Lamastus who got a few words in a few chapters ago then sort of jumped into things as Syler's friend with no real backstory or reason for him to be so. In this, I was able to have Bronwyn explain a bit of her past (while still leaving some blanks due to her little secret, something that comes to head in a few more chapters after the fight with Growald) as well as give Lamastus a more proper introduction. It is adding a lot to an already long book, but I felt it was worth it. If I have to end up dividing again or even cutting out future sections, I already have a few more ideas for that. I think it is more important to properly lay the groundwork for the major characters (ie, Syler, Bronwyn, Havert, Lamastus, and even someone like Growald) than to worry about having to move more material to the next book. Also note that this is one of the few chapters that is done entirely from Bronwyn's point of view. This chapter is about 60% entirely new material with a bit of changes here and there in what was left. I also have plans to follow up and explain what exactly happened to Bronwyn's parents (something that got more or less overlooked in the first draft) and show a little bit more of the daily life in Kubei as it helps explain further some of what the Easterners are doing in occupied territories (which will become more and more relevant in Books 3 and 4). I know it has been very slow so far, but now things are getting to where I was wanting to add a bunch more and I am getting more and more excited about it. I despise editing because it feels so much like redoing what was already done. Fun fact: this chapter is the first time I have actually given both Bronwyn's and Lamastus' last names (Antoras and Fean, respectively). Obviously, Bronwyn would have changed her last name to Penion, but her maiden name was never mentioned, neither was Lamastus'. ___________________ Chapter 6 Not all who can see the future are within the ranks of the Order of Prophets and Seers. The unfortunate few who slip through the cracks are plagued by things they do not understand because they receive no guidance or explanation. Most of these individuals are driven insane by the things they see but not explain and therefore die tragic deaths. — Master Prophet Shruden Xalent Kubei, Providence of Kut Voices screaming in pain and anguish woke her with a start. Her eyes, though open, could not see anything in the blackness, but her ears did not need light to hear and that was enough to terrify her. She would claw her own ears off if it meant that she didn't have to hear what she was hearing. People nearby were suffering and crying out. Some begged for mercy that would not be granted, others pled for intervention from various deities. The most pitiful were the ones who called for their mothers or fathers to save them from their anguish while delirious from being so close to death. She tried to move, but she could not. She was half kneeling on the grounds with her arms bound above her head and holding her up. Her legs were shackled as well, and something was constricting her neck making it difficult to breathe or swallow. Save her bonds, she was naked, dirty, and cold. Fear caused her to cry out, but she could only muster a mere whimper because her throat had already been worn raw from screaming. This wasn't the first time she had been here and she knew that it wouldn't be the last. She knew what would happen next and her stomach revolted in terror. Just a few more seconds and the worst part would begin again. Just a few more moments of waiting for her doom in this hellish nightmare and she could get it over with. At least until next time. A small click of metal on metal cut through the cries of the damned like a sword piercing her very soul. She hated this part the most, but she was powerless to stop it. A torch was brought in and her eyes were assaulted by light they were not used to seeing. By the time they adjusted to where she could open them without pain, a figure was standing before her just as he always was. The world of sight was murky as though she was looking at everything through a swirl of mist. That was how it always was and she hated it. She wanted to close her eyes shut and wait for the inevitable, but she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't force herself to look away. The man was carrying a sharp instrument of torture and she knew that it would be used on her. Soon, her voice would be added to the cacophony of misery that permeated this place. She struggled against her bonds, though she knew it was useless. The man began to move toward her with a cold smile on his face. His hands and shirt were already black with blood and the knife in his hand gleamed as it came closer to her exposed chest. This was the part she hated the most. She could only watch helplessly as the cruel knife pierced the skin just below her throat and drew blood. A scream erupted from her as he drew the blade from her throat down between her breasts and towards her stomach. The cut wasn't deep, but that didn't diminish the pain. She began to thrash around in pain which only caused the man's cut to become jagged and hurt even more. Her skin felt like it was on fire and her raw throat hurt even more as she screamed. The man merely smiled at his work and pulled the knife back. With nothing but pure evil in his eyes, he raised his hand up to cut her again. This is where she normally escaped into reality. But it didn't. The man grabbed her left forearm with his free hand and started his second cut. He began just below where she was chained to the wall and slowly dragged the knife down to her shoulder. Her screams changed from mere pain to sheer shock as she realized that the torture wasn't ending like it always did. This had never happened before, why was it happening now? There was but a glint of metal and something warm sprayed across her face. She gasped in shock when she saw that the torturer staring at the stump of his arm in shock. He didn't have long to grasp that his hand had been severed before a sword appeared out of his chest. The only sound he made was that of air leaving his lungs before those cruel eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed. Standing behind the man was another carrying a bloody sword. She blinked the blood out of her eyes and looked up at him and nearly passed out. It was him. She recognized his face now and the shock of it overwhelmed all of her other senses. He was saying something, but she couldn’t understand any of it. He reached down and wiped her face with soft cloth. She still couldn't understand him, but she could clearly see his face in the light. He reached up and did something out of her sight, then her arms were free. He gently lowered her body and cradled her head in his arms. Tears flowed down her eyes as she felt a sense of security. He kept speaking with a sense of urgency, but she still couldn't comprehend him. Then, she felt him tense. His eyes widened in shock he began to turn around as he reached for his sword. She turned her head to see what it was that was— "Are you okay?" a voice asked from where reality lay. Bronwyn's eyes opened with a start and she took a deep breath. She felt a hand softly shaking her shoulder and realized she was in her bed. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dim light of early dawn, they fixated on a face hovering just inches from hers. It was the same one she had just been looking at, the one she recognized. She let out a startled cry and pulled back against the wall. Syler quickly backed away with his hands held up in a non-threatening manner, but didn't stand up. He remained crouched a few feet from her bed wearing just his pants and looking like he had just woken up. She hadn't seen him without his shirt yesterday and was surprised to see how muscular he was, just like her father. She guessed that blacksmiths were not really able to be weak if they were going to survive. Syler's brow was knitted together in concern as he looked at her eyes as though to make sure she was not in pain. "I am sorry for waking you, but you were tossing around and moaning in your sleep. You must have been having quite the nightmare for you to wake me up after how tired I was." Her mind was racing at the implications of this latest vision. She had never gotten that far before, it had always stopped just after the first cut. She didn't understand why it had kept going beyond what she had seen many times before. Even more curious was the fact that she had recognized someone. She had never recognized anyone in any of her visions before, especially not that one. And why was it that he had appeared in her vision, especially on the first night after meeting him? It made no sense, but it there were too many new factors for it to be a mere coincidence. Three new things had happened to her tonight: her vision had extended itself, she recognized someone within it, and that person just happened to come into her life just hours before she slept. As she thought about it, she could add a fourth first to that list. Nobody had ever interrupted her visions before. They had always faded out on their own, but not tonight. "I am sorry for startling you, but you sounded like you were having a pretty bad time," Syler said. He was misinterpreting her silence as anger against him. Either that or he was expecting her to be silent as she had been most of yesterday. "No," she said in a weak voice. Her body was still half asleep still, even though her mind was racing. She tried to stretch, but that only caused the muscles in her back to cry out in protest. "You did nothing wrong. I am just a little shaken." "Well," he replied with a hint of relief, "I will let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you." There was no way she was going to be able to sleep now. "No," she said, "it is nearly dawn, I will go and start preparing something for breakfast. The priests have decreed today to be a day of rest as we adjust to our new husbands, so there is to be no labor. You can rest as long as you need." "Really?" Syler responded with a look of confusion. "I don't remember them saying that." "We were told such before your kind arrived," replied Brownyn. "I was afraid to say much last night, so I didn't have the ability to tell you." She had indeed been afraid of him. She, like all Kuti children, grew up hearing the stories of the brutal Seinari soldiers who burned and pillaged Kuti villages. When she had heard that they would be forced to marry captured Sei soldiers, she had despaired. The thought of having to live with one of those brutes was almost too much to bear. She had even considered murdering him in his sleep before attempting to flee into the wilderness, but was not sure she could have gone through with it. It was a cowardly way to kill someone and was highly dishonorable, even for a woman. She dreaded not just the idea of having to live with a Sei barbarian and to be forced to feed and care for one, but she most feared having to lie with one. She had received offers of marriage before, but had turned them down out of fear of her secrets being revealed. Her father had allowed her to do so and made appropriate excuses, but she knew he hadn't wanted her to remain alone forever. Still, she didn't want to be married off like this. Then she had seen Syler and was relieved that he was not an ugly, grotesque man. Instead of immediately taking advantage of her and abusing her, he had been courteous and even kind. He didn't make demands and was respectful towards her. As he spoke about himself over dinner, she realized that he wasn't as horrible as she had feared. He even insisted on not laying with her and promised he would never do so without her consent. He was, as she said last night, a good man. While she had been afraid of waking him while he slept, after yesterday she no longer feared him. "Oh," said Syler, "Well, I guess that if you are going to be awake, the least I can do is get out of bed and help you make breakfast." "No, I will handle it," she said a little too abruptly. At his slightly hurt expression, she added in a less hostile voice, "Besides, I know where everything is and you would only get in my way." It wasn't that she didn't want his help, she just wanted time alone to think through what had just happened. He seemed to accept that, but didn't go back to bed. Instead, he tossed his shirt on asked, "Where do you get fresh water?" "The city is divided into oddly shaped sections," she explained. "I know not why they planned them this way, but the Haresu ordered the roads and major buildings built in a very strange pattern. There are major roads running through the city, one of which is in front of my—our— house. There is a well at every major intersection of these roads. Normally there is no so much water in our lands, but I believe that this city was planted here by the Haresu on purpose because there seems to be plenty below us." "Okay, where is the nearest intersection?" Bronwyn pointed to the nearest well and said, "It is that direction about a quarter mile." She paused for a moment and added, "If you need some water, I will get some for you." Syler shook his head, "No, I meant to get some yesterday after I used all of your wash water, but I fell asleep. I will get some now and refill it while you are making breakfast." That made little sense to her and caused her to blink a few times. "Men do not do such things, it a task for the women. I will do it for you." His face hardened in a way that almost frightened her and he said in a cold voice, "Where I come from, a man does not take things without paying for them or replacing them. I took your water for my bath so I will replace it. That is what is proper." She wasn't going to argue with him while he had that look. It wasn't as frightening now that she knew it wasn't really directed at her, but it was still powerful in a way most men would never be able to muster. A brief image flashed in her mind of him standing over the body of her unnamed torturer with fire in his eyes and a bloody sword in his hand. "O-okay," she said in a quiet voice, "you can get the water." His eyes softened and he unclenched his jaw. "In Sandrin, men do not force women to do anything that they wouldn't do themselves. You are not my slave and I will not treat you as one. I will carry my weight around here and shoulder my own burdens. I don't know what the Angvardi would have me do, but I assume it will involve smithing as that was my trade back in Sandrin. Whatever their plans are, I will provide for you and take care of you for as long as I can." He had mentioned his trade last night during his ramblings and by the way he looked with his shirt off, she could tell he had not been lying. The Haresu had said that they would be pairing them with husbands suitable for them, it appeared that they had been right. "My father was a blacksmith." "I know. The Angvardi who brought me here told me as much." She had no response to that. The memory of her father and how he died came back to her and grieved her soul. It hadn't been very long and the pain of his loss was still very strong. He wouldn't know that, so she didn't fault him. Syler must have sensed her hesitation because he got up from his crouch on the floor and sat on the edge of her parent's bed. "I guess I will be off then," he said quietly, in an almost subdued tone as he grabbed his boots. Once his boots were on, he went to the washroom and used the empty bucket at the edge of the washbasin to gather a full bucket of water. She remained in her cot while he proceeded to empty the water outside one bucketful at a time. It took four trips to empty the water that she had painstakingly drawn in preparation for her husband's arrival. Despite their constant patrols, this was the Kuti's land and a large group of over four hundred men could not come upon this city without them knowing so there was plenty of forewarning even before the priests had announced the arrival of those men. As soon as he began his first trip to the well, she got out of bed and changed out of her nightclothes and into her normal work clothes. After that, she went into the neighbor's house to collect some eggs. As usual, Matryl gave her eggs without complaint or demand for payment, even when she asked for double the normal amount. Her next stop was to the butcher down the road in the opposite direction of the well. He already had her package of fresh pork waiting for her and had even added extra now that there were two of them. She thanked him as she usually did and returned home. Bronwyn got back home in time to catch Syler on his way back to the well for the second time. It took only a little time to get a fire started and begin frying the pork. By his third trip, the pork was well on its way and she had already put a second pan out for the eggs. She had debated getting some of the plains potatoes and adding them to the mix, but decided to hold off on those until supper. Syler came back from his fourth trip to find breakfast on the table and her waiting patiently for him to arrive. She continued to wait while he poured the last bucket into the washbasin saving enough to wash his own hands and face off before coming to the table. As soon as he started eating, she began to eat her own. It was only proper for the man to eat first and she would not disrespect her new husband by beginning before him. He complimented the food as he ate all that was in front of him. There were a few more small pieces of pork left over, but no eggs. She made note of that and vowed to ask for more eggs tomorrow. Syler ate all but one of the remaining pieces of pork and insisted that she take it when he saw that she had finished her meal. She was grateful for that because she was still hungry. She had not gotten as much as she had wanted out of fear that he would finish his plate and still want more. When he was finished, she got up to begin cleaning the dishes but he stopped her with a word, "No." She looked at him in confusion as he got up and took her plate and cup from the table. "You cooked the meal, I will clean up the mess." "But—" she protested. "No arguments," he said in a stern, but not harsh voice. "I said that I will contribute my share and since I won't be working at the forge today, that share will be helping around the house. I am a perfectly capable cook and will be making lunch." "Lunch?" she asked in confusion. She was unfamiliar with that word. He looked back at her and searched her face to see if she was having him on. When he saw she wasn't, he said, "Yes, lunch. Surely the Kuti eat lunch." "We don't have any lunch here, the plains are usually too barren for many animals to live it. Mainly just goats and pigs, but a few villages have cows as well." He openly gaped at her and shook his head. "No, lunch isn't a type of animal, it is a meal. We usually eat it around noon when the sun is at its peak." "That is so early," commented Bronwyn. "Well, we eat supper in the evening, too." "Three meals a day?" she said in bewilderment. She had no idea that the Sei lands were so bountiful. No wonder the warriors favored spending their time there. "How do you not grow fat from all that food?" "You only eat two meals?" Syler said with a look of confusion on his own face. "That is interesting." "Why would we need any more than that?" she asked. "Well, I guess with how much you fed me, I might not need lunch." "You don't normally eat as much?" Syler chuckled, "No, I don't. I have eaten far more than I normally do because I was so hungry from the trip. I hadn't had good food like that soup you served since I left home almost two weeks ago." She beamed at the compliment, but was still confused at the idea of eating three meals in a day. She supposed that the Sei had their own customs and would view some of hers in just the same manner she viewed his. "At least I know now that you aren't normally going to eat that much. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to get enough food if you kept at that pace." Another chuckle and he added, "Not so quick, you will be making another meal, even if you don't eat it. Don't worry about it though, once I start working, we should have plenty of money to pay for the food I eat. How you managed to survive here on your own this far shows that you know how to handle money and not waste it. That is very good because though we will have plenty for food, blacksmiths are never rich." She smiled and was debating whether she should tell him one of her secrets when his eyes brightened as though he just remembered something. "I meant to ask you something," he said, "while you were asleep, you were muttering something, but I couldn't understand it. What was it you were saying?" Bronwyn was suddenly nervous. She hadn't had a vision powerful enough to cause her to speak in her sleep in many years. She didn't know what to say and struggled to find something that would satisfy him. The differences between their cultures was fresh on her mind, so she just built off of it when she replied, "You don't believe that this tongue is our native one, do you?" That seemed to distract him because he cocked his head and shrugged. "I guess not. I know that almost everyone knows the Common Tongue, but I suppose that various people still might have their own native languages. Is it spoken often here?" "No," said Bronwyn a little quickly, "few people even know it. Most only know the Common Tongue." "That makes sense, I don't even know any of our native tongue, if we even have one." He smiled and said, "Well, that is one more thing I know about you, why don't you start telling me more about yourself. If we are to live together, I think we should at least know a little about each other. I told you a lot about me last night, it is your turn." Bronwyn was only too happy to move on to other subjects. He seemed nice, but she didn't know him well enough to tell him everything about her. He might not understand or worse, he might turn on her. She knew that her life was in a fragile balance with the Haresu on one hand and the Sei on the other, she didn't need another enemy in Syler. At his insistence, she remained at the table while he began cleaning up from breakfast. She took a deep breath and began talking. "I am Bronwyn Feltoras of Clan Eagoria. Our clan, one of many among the Kuti peoples, ranged throughout a wide area to the south near the border with the Andlei Haresu, the ones your kind calls the Terulans. On occasions, we would have to flee or fight off invaders from your people or the Haresu, but for the most part, it was a peaceful life. "My father was a blacksmith and my mother took care of us. I think I had a good childhood, but I really can't say. I was able to explore the prairies and grasslands and play with some of the other children. We learned from the elders and dreamed of what we would do when we were older. It was a fun time, mostly, especially in the springtime when the grasses were at their fullest." With a dreamy smile, she told him of a few of her favorite places to play and a little about her friends and parents. It felt good to talk about those happy days with someone who was interested and didn't try to interrupt. She missed being young and being so innocently naïve. She avoided going into much detail of her life after she came of age. Those times, were not so good and were too risky to talk about just yet. With only a brief overview of her life over the last nine or so years, she braced herself for talking about the last eight months. "When the Haresu invaded, all the men went to war. We stood no chance in open battle and the enemy were too many to hide from. It didn't take long before our armies were slaughtered and the survivors taken into slavery. My clan elders refused to be put under the whip of the Haresu, so they immolated themselves as the enemy approached our village. The rest of us were forced to convert and culled for those who would be brought here. This place had not been fully built yet, so there was much work for my father and we never went without. Then…" her voice droned off as she thought about what happened to her father. She had thought she would be able to talk about it, but here and now, in front of this strange man, she couldn't force herself to speak the words. She refused to shed a tear or look weak in front of him so she swallowed, ignored his cautious look, and continued. "Then some bad things happened and I was left alone. I have…means by which I managed to survive, so I did not starve." She winced a little when she realized how that sounded, but she dared not tell him the truth, not yet. Still, part of her didn't want him to think of her in that way, so she quickly added, "My father's friends and businessmen refused to see me go without, so they would give me odd jobs to do in order to make money." "I understand," Syler said. "I know what it is like to lose my parents and be out on my own. I was very fortunate that Master Fitno was willing to give me a chance as his apprentice. I may not be a master smith, but I know enough to keep us well fed and taken care of since there is bound to be plenty of work here in a growing city." She nodded in agreement at that. The city was indeed growing with dozens of new families coming in each day. "I don't doubt it, and it will be nice to have some money for a change. The Angvardi might be stern and demanding, but at least they pay well, and in silver, too. With just the two of us, it will be easy to support ourselves, but we should begin planning for—for our child." She was careful to be looking directly at his face to see his reaction to that. To her surprise, he didn't seem to react at all. He just kept scrubbing on an iron skillet with an almost intentional fervor and avoided looking at her. She filed that away for future memory because it was something that had been pressing on her mind for the last week since it was announced to the women what was to be expected of them. Without pausing for too long, she continued in a lighter voice. "I never had any siblings like you did. There were some friends I had back at my village, but they either died or were moved elsewhere. Not everyone from my clan was moved, just parts of it, those who could help build the city. I think that is what the Haresu are doing all over Kutiso. Since coming here and with what happened, I have been mostly working and not able to socialize much." "Since my parents died," Syler confided, "I haven't had much time to spend making friends, either. Though I knew many people in my hometown, Havert is the only person I would truly call a friend." He flashed a grin and added, "Look on the bright side, at least we have each other as friends." Bronwyn didn't know what to say to that, but she was spared having to say anything by a polite knock at the door. With a look of puzzlement on her face, she stood up and went to the door with Syler two steps behind her. Standing in the doorway was an Angvardi guardsman. He was dressed in the same light leather armor that they normally wore when on patrol or not responding to some sort of emergency. She could see a few locks of curly black hair peeking out from under the front of his helmet. His skin was darker than she would have preferred, but she realized that it was normal for non-Kuti who had been kissed by the sun. He was more tanned than Syler, but she didn't think that her husband spent much time outside. "Hello there," the man said with a warm smile. "I am sorry if I was interrupting anything, but I wanted to see how you were doing." "I know you," Syler said quietly mostly to himself, though she could hear him. His eyes widened slightly as he remembered where from. "You were the guard who brought me here, right?" The man's smiled widened as he gave an exaggerated bow with a flourish of his right hand. When he finished, he stood up and said in a voice strangely full of warmth. "Guardsman Lamastus Fean, at your service. I am glad you remembered me, most new arrivals tend to hate the guards and shy away from us." Bronwyn wasn't comfortable at the guard's strange presence and took a few steps back from the door. In her experience, Haresu, especially their guards, didn't typically indulge in such strange behavior around those they conquered. She didn't say anything about it, though, but deferred to Syler as the new man of the house. No matter how she may feel about it, this was now his house just as much as it was hers and it was his responsibility to tend to male guests. Syler briefly considered his options before nodding. "That is kind of you, sir. We are doing as well as can be expected." The guardsman waved away the formalities, "It is Lamastus, Syler. I may be a guard, but I am no higher or better than you are for it. I just got the permanent assignment to patrol this sector and want to know all of those who live here. It isn't my job to terrorize or brutalize those under my protection, but to protect them and watch out for their needs. If you ever have any problems or concerns, feel free to bring them up to me and I will see if I can help." Syler gave a single nod and said, "Thank you, Lamastus. I tend to keep to myself and resolve my own problems, but I will keep that in mind." "We all need help at some point," Lamastus said. "I don't want you to feel that you have nowhere to go if something comes up. I know you are in a strange city and among a strange people, but I don't want you to feel that you have nobody to turn to if you have problems." His blue eyes fell upon Bronwyn and he said, "How are you, Miss?" His voice, while still friendly, was firm and demanded an answer. "I am well," she replied honestly. "Syler seems to be a good man. The gods have chosen well for me." She bowed her head when she was finished and took a self conscious step backward. "I hope that continues to hold true," the Haresu replied. "If there is ever any trouble, you come to me yourself and I will make sure you are taken care of." His eyes returned to Syler as he added in a dead serious voice, "I don't like to see women with bruises or cuts and won't brook any of that on my watch. We have had problems in the past and I can assure you, the men did not turn out for the better once I was done with them." Syler didn't shrink back from the thinly veiled threat, but stood tall and firm. "Then we are in agreement. Rest assured that no harm will ever come to Bronwyn from my hand. If I ever see any man harming a woman, Sei or no, I will be the first to stop it." Lamastus' charm returned with a new smile. "Good to hear, Syler. I figured that you were a good man when I first met you. Let us hope that my first impression of you turns out to be correct. I am sorry if I appear a little stern, but I already had to deal with an incident last night and hope to stop further problems. Things have been a little tense around here with the new arrivals, but so far, we are handling things well enough." "You have no need to apologize," responded Syler, though his voice was a little dry. "I can only imagine that there will be some problems when you take hundreds of men away from their homes and force them to marry strangers." Instead of growing angry, Lamastus sighed and wiped his brow. "You are right to be angry. I might not have done things exactly as they were, but I do not have any say in how Unification is carried out. My job is to maintain order and I try to do that by making friends with those under my watch instead of brutalizing them and ruling through fear. We are all one people now, united under the Tetrarchy. There is no reason why we should be at each other's throats." "It is refreshing to hear that opinion coming from an Easterner," admitted Syler with a little less tension straining his words. "There is a lot of anger among the men who were brought here with me. Unless the guards are like you, I fear more problems are bound to erupt." "Don't I know it," Lamastus said as he fiddled with the short sword on his belt. "This should be a time of healing, not of fighting. Enough blood has been spilt, there needs not be any more." Syler crossed his arms, but didn't disagree. "I am glad to hear you say that, especially considering your troops are marching throughout my homeland." For the first time, the Haresu frowned slightly. "The violence has ended throughout most of the Sei's lands. There are some armies that resist in the north, but for the most part, the fighting is over. Rest assured, we are not murderers nor are we there to pillage and destroy. The army will remain there for a short time to watch for further resistance and to stop any looting, but they will soon move on and regular guardsmen will replace them. We aren't soldiers serving the generals. We are guards who take our orders from the governor and the city lords. Our purpose isn't in fighting wars, but in fighting lawlessness and crime." "That sounds good," said Syler with some skepticism. "What will be happening to those who were left behind?" Lamastus shrugged, "I do not know. I am not high enough in the hierarchy here to know such things." Syler's arms fell to his sides and his voice became strained with emotion. "Is there any way you could find out about a particular town?" Lamastus' brow furrowed in sympathy and his voice lowered. "Do you have family back home?" Syler nodded, "My sister. Please, sir, is there any way you could find any news about her?" Lamastus put a hand on Syler's shoulder and looked directly into his eyes. "I will do my best. What is her name and where does she live?" "Her name is Karusa Hozren, a widow. We lived in the town of Sandrin southwest of See Sei." After writing the names down in a small piece of parchment pulled out from a pocket, Lamastus said, "I will make inquiries about her, but don't get your hopes up. There is a lot of change going on and things are a little chaotic. Still, if there is one thing we Angvardi are good at, it is keeping records. It may take a month or two, but something will come up. I have friends elsewhere who might be able to help." Syler's shoulders sagged as he let out a deep breath of relief. "Thank you, Lamastus. Do you have time to come in for a few moments, or do you need to stay on patrol?" As he said that, Bronwyn felt his attention directed toward her as well as the Haresu. She didn't allow herself to react or to show her discomfort at the thought of having one of the monsters in her house. If her new husband felt it was wise for whatever reason, it was her place to do nothing but support his choice. This man didn't seem too bad, but he was still a Haresu and a few minutes of being kind didn't negate what they did to her and her kind. To her relief, Lamastus shook his head. "Sorry, I don't have time to stay. There are many more houses for me to check in on. Do not worry, I will be back later to make sure you have all that you need to get your forge set up. We can talk more then." "Again, thank you," Syler replied as he offered his hand to the guardsman. Lamastus took the hand and shook it. "You are welcome, Syler." He let go of Syler's hand and gave them both a mock salute with two fingers touching his forehead, "Until I return, then." With that, he turned and continued down the road.
  17. Ahhh, yes. Those mistakes will be corrected. The next chapter was split up for the purposes of fleshing a few things out between Syler and Bronwyn's first meeting. I didn't do too much to this chapter and left it fairly short (at under 4000 words), but the next chapter has an additional 2500 or so words added to it that give a little more background to Bronwyn as well as an entirely new section where the two of them truly meet Lamastus for the first time (as opposed to the brief snippet we see of him escorting Syler to Bronwyn's house). I actually forgot that I hadn't posted the fifth chapter, so it and the sixth are ready. As soon as someone reads and responds to this, I will post the sixth chapter. ____________________ Chapter 5 Putting former enemies into the same household has its risks. Even if Unification demands it, there will always be those who rebel and must be dealt with. Use caution when dealing with these situations as too strong a hand will cause more to rebel and do more damage than good. — missive from Arch-Priest Tralleus of Fogera Village of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut Elmbial 28th After several excruciatingly long seconds where Syler stood nervously waiting for a response, the door was opened by a young woman whose somber expression managed to only slightly sour her beauty. Like all of the Kuti Syler had seen, she had blonde hair down to the middle of her back, though it was on the darker side of the normal range for the Kuti. She was fairly tall for a woman, just a couple of inches shorter than he was. She had a slim figure that managed not to look frail or delicate nor indicate that she had been lacking for food. Her eyes were a vibrant green and she had a few freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. As Lamastus had said, she was indeed very pleasing to the eyes, but that wasn't what Syler was concerned about. This wasn't some sort of conquest for him to enjoy, but another person also condemned by the same captors who imprisoned him. As Syler looked at her, he noticed that she refused to meet his gaze. She simply stood there staring at her feet in what he took as terrified submission. Her face was etched with worry lines, especially around the eyes. Lamastus had said that her parents had died, and the fact that this house had a forge in the back indicated that they had to have died since it was built. This entire city was only a few months old, so it was quite likely her parents' death still weighed upon her. That and her forced marriage to a complete stranger. "I am Syler," he said just in case they hadn't told her his name. Though he tried to keep his voice pleasant, he didn't think that he succeed. Her face gave no reaction nor did she look at him as she stepped aside to let him in. Syler took one last glance at the men in the street before following her in and closed the door gently behind him. Once inside, it took his eyes a few moments to adjust to the lack of bright sunlight. When they did, he studied what he saw. The house featured a central room with two doorways. The first was in the middle of the left wall and looked like it led to a bedroom. He suspected that the other door in the rightmost corner of the back wall probably led to the forge. In the main room was a fireplace with a chimney, a few shelves with jars of food or dried vegetables hanging on strings, a small stool with a water basin on it, a table with three chairs, and a cushioned chair off to the side that looked well used. The kitchen was in the left corner of the main room, tucked in between the space left by the two doors. A table was immediately to his right up next to the front of the house. The floors, to his surprise, were not dirt, but rather were smoothed tan stone with mortar between the stones. There were two windows with a sand worn glass to offer light without the expense of privacy, though it was hard to make anything out through them. The house was surprisingly clean and tidy, clearly Bronwyn was keen on cleanliness. Bronwyn went to the fireplace where she had a pot of what he assumed was supper, but made sure to position herself where she could keep an eye on him. While he had been looking at the room, she had been studying him. Syler realized what he must have looked like was somewhat ashamed at his appearance. They had been on the march for days on end with only a quick dip in a nearby creek once for a bath. He was still in the same worn shirt that he had left Sandrin in and had several days of stubble on his face. "I am sorry for my appearance," Syler mumbled. "We've been marching for some time and haven't had a break." She didn't say anything, but bent down to stir the pot occasionally adding a bit of spice to it. Syler didn't know what to do or even where he should put his pack and sleeping roll. Bronwyn still hadn't said a single word to him or given him any direction as to what he should do. For a several minutes, he just stood there near the door. He considered investigating the other rooms, but it felt like too much a violation of this woman's—he couldn't think of her as his wife—home to do so without being invited. "Ummm, do you mind if I sit down?" he asked after his pack began to get heavy. Bronwyn considered for a moment before giving him a small nod. Syler picked one of the wooden chairs at the table and pulled it out a little so he could sit. Once he sat, he put his pack down beside him and pondered his next move. Bronwyn was no longer looking at him, but seemed intently focused on the soup. Silence was fine with Syler now. He had a lot to consider from the day. It all seemed so unreal to him even now. If this was to be his new home, he guessed that the Angvardi meant for him to resume his blacksmithing. It was too much a coincidence that he was put into a house with a forge for it to be anything else. The work didn't bother him, it was what he did in Sandrin, but he was bothered by the fact that he didn't know what was happening to his sister. Then there was this woman, apparently now his wife. He didn't know her nor love her and felt pretty confident in believing that she returned that sentiment. He didn't really know how much she believed in the Angvardi's religion or if she was simply a convert of opportunity. The Kuti had been under Angvardi control for months now so there was no telling what sort of things happened here or how they felt. To be forced to live with a strange man as his subservient wife had to be difficult. Plus, if they didn't find some way to have a child within a year, they would both be sold to slavery and that was bound to add a tremendous amount of stress to her life. Bronwyn's abrupt departure through the back door interrupted Syler's thoughts. He didn't know where she went, but decided it would be best not to take this opportunity to snoop around her home and remained where he was. He hoped that she hadn't decided to run off as he was pretty sure that both of them would get in some pretty bad trouble if she did. He wasn't sure exactly what the Easterners would do if one of them did try to flee, but it wasn't likely anything enjoyable. His fears turned out to be unfounded as she returned ten minutes later with a headless and skinless chicken in a bloodied hand. Syler figured that it was good she wasn't squeamish about slaughtering chickens like he knew some people were. From behind one of the sets of shelves, she pulled out a wide board and laid it flat against two of the shelves to form a cutting board. For the next several minutes, he watched as she cut the chicken into pieces and fed them into the pot. When she finished, she went back to her silent stirring routine. At last, after several more minutes of silence, Syler could stand it no more. "Look, miss, I don't like this situation any more than you seem to!" he sputtered. The words out a little louder and more forceful than he intended and he winced at seeing her shrink back. She had stopped stirring and was now looking at him with a trace of fear in her eyes. He let out a breath and continued in a much calmer tone, "I didn't exactly come here by my own choice. If I had my way, I would be back in Sandrin right now trying to wipe the memory of the last few weeks from my mind." She said nothing, but continued to stare at him. At least the fearful expression began to soften. For the first time, Syler began to wonder if she was mute. The Angvardi guards didn't mention it, but there were a lot of things they didn't tell him about. "I am sorry for this, I really am," he said with a long, weary sigh. "I had nothing to do with picking you or coming here, the Angvardi did that for me. I wish things could be different, but they aren't." He waited for a reply before sighing at the silence he received. She wasn't deaf because she responded to his question about sitting. "Okay, I know I am not exactly at my best. Is there a place where I might wash up and wash out my clothes? Then at least I won't look like a half crazed Sua." Bronwyn considered for a few moments before gesturing to the side room. He slowly got up, grabbed his pack, and walked into the room. To his surprise, it was larger than he had thought and had another room leading toward the back of the house. Inside the room was a bed, a cabinet, a small chest with a few trinkets on it, and a small cot along the front wall. Light came in from another window, though it was blocked by crudely spun brown curtains. He didn't see anything here and assumed that he should go into the next room. When he opened the door, he was greeted with the sight of a large washtub and a towel. He had not expected an indoor bath, but was beginning to realize that most of his expectations of this town were not exactly coming to fruition. There was some water in the tub already and it looked clean. Syler figured that Bronwyn was planning on using this water for herself and vowed to drain it out when he was finished and get her some fresh water. The water wasn't heated, but with how warm it was here, it wasn't really cold. He closed the door behind him and stripped off the dirty clothes so he could get in the tub. There was a small cake of soap nearby for him to use. It felt good to wash off the dirt and grime of his travels. Near where the soap had been was, among other things, a small razor in a box sitting on the floor next to the washbasin. He used that to shave his stubble and was impressed with its quality. He didn't recognize its craftsmanship, but wherever it was from, the razor was clearly well built and carefully maintained. After shaving, he got out of the tub and dried himself off with one of the three towels hanging along the wall. The next thing he did was to wash out his clothes. He still had one somewhat clean shirt and pants in his pack, so he donned them and washed everything else out as best as he could and left them hanging on the edge of the washbasin to dry. When he emerged, he felt significantly better. The cool water had refreshed him, as did the fact that he wasn't covered in filth. He emerged into the main room to find Bronwyn missing. Not knowing what else to do, he returned to the same chair he had sat in earlier and waited. He woke to the smell of food and the image of Bronwyn sitting across the table from him. There was a clay bowl with a spoon in it in front of both of them, though neither had been touched. As soon as she saw he was awake, she calmly gestured to his bowl and began eating from her own, something that struck Syler as odd. She was clearly waiting for him to wake up before eating, but he had no idea how long she had been sitting there silently or how long he had been napping. Judging by the dim light coming in from the windows and the numerous candles she had lit, it had to have been several hours. He didn't know if that was a Kuti tradition or if she was simply being polite. Not knowing what else to do and encouraged by the rumbling of his stomach, Syler picked up the spoon and started eating. The soup was actually very good, though with a pang of embarrassment, he noted that it wasn't nearly as hot as it should be. Clearly, his napping had cost Bronwyn a hot meal. "This is very good," he said between bites, "thank you for making it." As he had expected, that got nothing more than a small nod of acknowledgement. They finished the rest of the meal in silence. Bronwyn finished first, but waited for him to finish before getting up to fill their bowls once more. Syler was glad for that because he was starving but didn't want to be rude by asking for more when he didn't know how poor she was. For all he knew, this was an absolute feast for her. He thanked her again as she placed the much warmer bowl in front of him and waited for her to sit down before digging in. When they had finished the bowl, she got up to retrieve more, but Syler stopped her, "No, that is enough, thank you." She nodded and rinsed both bowls out in the washbasin before returning them to a shelf. He watched as she placed a lid over the remaining soup and left it to simmer over the fire. When she had finished and had cleaned up whatever remained, she sat down at the table across from him and stared. The awkwardness of the situation grew until at last, Syler was forced to laugh aloud. At this point, he didn't know what else to do. The situation he found himself in was so hopeless, so overwhelming, and so strange, he found that he could either laugh or cry and in this case, he chose to laugh. And laugh he did, until the tears began to flow. Bronwyn stared at him in her usual silence, but Syler thought he detected a look of confusion and bewilderment with perhaps a little fear on her face. "I am sorry," he said when the laughter finally died down. "You must think I am mad, and you might be right. After all that has happened, I wouldn't be surprised if I was. What with the battle, the fall of my kingdom, our exile here, and being put into this arrangement, I am glad I can even think straight." She didn't say anything, but the fear left her face. "Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I am Syler Penion of the village of Sandrin. I used to help my father gathering herbs and minerals for his apothecary until he died. My sister's husband died as well, so in order to take care of the two of us, I moved in with the village blacksmith and became his apprentice. It wasn't glamorous and it was a lot of hard work, but I did what I had to. "Then, the Angvardi invaded and there was a battle and we were defeated. I lost a lot of friends in that field, but I also lost my kingdom and apparently my freedom. Those of us who survived were rounded up and marched, I assume, to various parts of the Angvardi's conquests to serve as husbands for their little unification scheme. That is how I ended up here." Syler gave a shrug as he reviewed what had happened to him in recent times. It sounded so simple to hear it said in such a short manner, almost like he was talking about someone else. "It looks like we are stuck with each other. I hope we can make the best of it. You seem to be a fine cook and the house is very clean, so that is a good start. I am pretty decent at the forge, so I don't think we will starve." He lowered his voice a little and allowed and edge of seriousness to creep in, "Do not fear me. We may have to live here, but I have no intention of having my way with you. I don't believe in forced marriages nor will I take part in the Angvardi's little schemes. We are prisoners here, little more than slaves, and I will not take advantage of you. I don't know what we will do in a year, but we can figure that out as we have time. Until then, you may sleep soundly knowing I will not touch you." If he wasn't mistaken, he saw a hint of relief on Bronwyn's face, but he wasn't exactly sure. She kept her expression mostly neutral as she sat and simply stared at him. Not knowing what more to do—a feeling he was feeling quite often of late—Syler just started talking about himself and his life. He kept going and going well into the night with Bronwyn just sitting there paying close attention to every word he spoke. At last, he could go on no more. They had been marching since first light and he was exhausted. With a long yawn, he stood up and started trying to figure out where he would sleep for the night. "Did you kill any of my people?" asked Bronwyn. Syler nearly tripped over his own feet when he heard her voice. It was the first thing she had said to him all day, and just when he was getting used to the idea of her being mute. "W-what?" he stammered. "You were a warrior," she replied in a clear voice with little trace of any sort of strange accent. "Your people often fight mine, attack us, and raid our villages. Did you ever kill any of my people?" After blinking several times while trying to sort through the shock of not just her speaking, but of what she asked. "Umm, no, I am not a warrior. I was conscripted to help defend my people when the Angvardi attacked. I was in a battle and did fight, but I don't believe any of my blows were lethal. I haven't killed anyone and the only people I ever fought were Angvardi." A smile graced Bronwyn's face and she visibly relaxed. "You are a good man, I am glad you were chosen for me. I had great fear that the Sei I was paired with would be a monster. We are told stories of how crass and violent the Sei are and I was afraid what would happen to me. When I first saw you standing in the door, I feared for my future. You were ragged, unkempt, and covered in filth. Despite my fears, you have shown yourself to have some decency and after you bathed and shaved your face, I realize that you are not unpleasing to look at. Hearing you speak all this time has let me learn of you and helped me realize that you are not a barbarian. My last concern was that you had killed my people in battle. I do not know if I could abide living in a house with one who had killed my kin." While she was speaking, Syler could not help himself but stare in near shock. Her voice was pure, crisp, and totally unlike what he was expecting. She sounded like she could have been from among the educated elite of See Sei, not all the way in the wilds of the Kuti's lands. Her voice wasn't the only thing that surprised him, what she said was equally unexpected. He had come into this town fearing the Kuti, and yet, she said that the Kuti feared the Sei. It was an odd world, one that he didn't know if he could ever get used to. "I am glad that I have helped put a rest to your fears," he said at last. "We have much to talk about, especially since you know so much about me and I almost nothing about you. I feared for a time that you were mute and that I would never get to hear your voice." That at elicited a small giggle from her and the ice between them seemed broken. "I am not mute, I was just afraid to say anything that might offend you," Bronwyn replied. "I am sorry for causing you to think that." "Do not trouble yourself," Syler assured her. "We can talk tomorrow, but now, I would like to go to bed." The look of concern and even fear began to creep back into Bronwyn's eyes. The very sight of it and his guess of what caused it sent a chill up Syler's back. "No, not like that. I told you, I do not believe in forced marriages and would never take advantage of you in that manner. I noticed that there is a cot in the corner, I will sleep there." "No," Bronwyn said quickly. Her eyes widened and she added, "That is where I sleep." She hesitated, but looked like she wanted to say something. That pause gave Syler the time to wonder why she would sleep on a cot when there was a comfortable looking bed available. He didn't try to push things, but simply waited for her to continue. After a few moments, she said, "You should take the bed. Its sheets are clean and nobody has slept there in some time. I will be fine on the cot." "I couldn't come into your house and sleep in a place of comfort while a woman slept on a simple cot," protested Syler. He was fine sleeping just about anywhere that was warm. Sometimes, he slept on the floor if there were guests at Fitno's house. Just as long as his sister was able to sleep in a bed he was happy. "Please, I cannot sleep in the bed," Bronwyn said pleadingly. "I am fine on the cot, it is where I have always slept." Seeing her like this was enough to persuade Syler. He didn't like the notion, but clearly Bronwyn had no desire to sleep in the bed so he wouldn’t force her. He knew almost nothing about her, perhaps he would find out why tomorrow when they could speak. "Very well then," he gave in. He wanted nothing to anger her, not at this fragile point in their relationship. The last thing he wanted to do was to have to live with a woman who hated him. He went into the other room, stripped off his shirt, and got into the bed. It was a very comfortable bed, to tell the truth. At any rate, it was better than sleeping on the ground like he had been doing for days on end. He intended to wait until Bronwyn was able to go to bed, but as soon as his head hit the soft pillow, he found he couldn't keep his eyes open.
  18. As long as it has been more than three days, I have no issue with people double posting in their own stories. Also, if a significant edit has been made, I don't even mind if an author double posts saying "hey, I made major changes, just letting everyone who read it before know that."
  19. I split up the next chapter where Syler enters Kubei and meets Bronwyn into two simply because it would be way, way too long otherwise. I moved a bit of stuff from the last chapter to here for dramatic effect and wanted to give a tiny bit of expansion to our first meeting of Lamastus. I also described the city and temple in a little more detail. That means that this latest addition will be rather long (about 5700 words) since it is the complete chapter. _________________________ Chapter 4 The Kuti are a barbaric race, one that would sooner raid and pillage their neighbors than live in peace. We have tried to reason with them, but they are beyond all rational discourse. If you encounter them in your travels, pray to the Elements that you are armed for the only way to deal with the Kuti is through violence. — Chronicler Gratis of the Sei, written in 983 of the Second Age Village of Kubei, Angvardi Province of Kut Elmbial 28th The journey east took almost two weeks, but it was not the miles that took their toll on the men. Each step they took put them farther from home and closer to the lands of their enemies. Some of these men had fought the Kuti raiding parties before and bore nothing but hatred for them. Three or four grew so angry that they refused to march any further. Those that didn't fall back into line after the touch of the whip were simply slain on the spot. As long as they behaved and kept marching without resistance, their escorts didn't harass them, but if they acted out, their retribution was swift and harsh. One man stole some extra provisions from the Angvardi's supplies during the night. He was quickly found and strung up behind the lead Angvardi's horse until he finally stumbled and was dragged to death. The Angvardi made it abundantly clear that all would submit and follow the Way or die as heretics. Syler hadn't spoken to Havert since that night when they had their argument. The other man hadn't even marched next to him, but stayed away. Syler was still too consumed with thoughts of what was going to happen to his sister to care. The only thing that kept him going was the hope that one day, he would live long enough to see her again. Travel along the Foiled Road that ran east and west across the Kingdom was easy, but when they started slightly northeast into the Kuti Lands, there was nothing but wilderness. Travel was slow and harder so they couldn't march as far each day. The Angvardi didn't seem concerned, though. They just kept marching the men as far as they could go each day with only a handful of breaks to eat. They kept a tight control over all supplies to ensure the men didn't get any rebellious ideas. Out here in the dry prairies that made up most of the lands of the Kuti, water was scarce, so they made sure to fill up whenever they came across a spring or creek, but the Angvardi held the food and the extra water skins. The terrain had gradually changed from rolling green grasslands of the Sei into patches of prairie dotted by sandy flats filled with rocks and ravines. It wasn't quite desert, but what moisture that made it over the Escand Highlands to the north was usually dumped into the Subeleth Woods before it ever reached these lands. From what little Syler knew of the Kuti, they were a semi-nomadic people who roamed their lands for sometimes months at a time before settling into temporary villages near various resources like herds, water, and tillable soil. They would stay there until the resources had been depleted and move on. Over time, the natural resources returned and another clan would settle there. When their natural resources were scarce, the men of the clans would form raiding parties to attack either the Angvardi to the south and east or the Sei to the west. It was from those raiding parties that their neighbors learned to fear and hate their people. Kuti warriors were renowned for their fighting prowess and durability. The raiding parties were quick and well skilled avoiding being tracked as they stalked through the lands of their enemies. Those groups of warriors were known to terrorize lands as far east as Lake Kart in Angvard to the outskirts of Kasas Sei in the west. Their raiders had even been known to occasionally go through the Terulan Realm of Yaitil in the south and attack the Kingdom of Jotolos. Having grown up in the western parts of the kingdom, Syler always heard more about the Sua, but he still heard plenty of horror stories of the Kuti raids. They would descend upon farmsteads and small villages and kill everyone within. Sometimes, if they were particularly angry or there wasn't sufficient food to pillage, they would hang all of the bodies up in an open area and strip their flesh off piece by piece. They sometimes raped the women and brutalized the children before killing them. Once they were done with their savagery, they would steal whatever they could and fade into the night. Though the Seinari frequently caught these raiding parties, they couldn't get every one of them so the terror continued almost year around. What future they faced among such barbaric savages was a complete mystery to Syler and the other Sei. At night, some of the men would talk and while he rarely participated in those conversations, he would listen to the speculation and horror stories. A few of the more excitable men declared that they would likely be dragged off in the night and have their throats slit as soon as the Easterners took their eyes off of them. Others declared that, while the men were ferocious, it was truly the women who needed to be feared. Most of the women practiced the most horrific of pagan black magic and would carve the Sei men into pieces for their heathen rituals. Only a few scoffed at these notions and held out hope that things wouldn't be too bad, but even they had a hard time defending themselves against stories from those who had been on border patrol and seen the aftermath of the massacres. On the twelfth day of marching, their Angvardi escorts grew visibly excited and one of the riders went on ahead. Syler saw thin tendrils of smoke on the horizon, the first sign of civilization since they entered Kuti lands. Apprehension grew among the Sei once they realized that they were going to soon be in the camp of their enemy, but none wished to feel the bite of an Angvardi whip so they continued onward without comment. They came to a small city that was significantly larger than what Syler had imagined. The Kuti had always lived in thatched or mud villages with just a few score families, but this place was larger than Sandrin. There were hundreds or even thousands of small, simple dwellings ran along winding packed dirt roads. From what they could see at a distance, there were quite a few vendors and markets peddling various wares. In the center of the city was a towering structure that dominated the landscape. Syler thought it looked a little odd as it didn't look to be something that could be quickly torn down and moved. From what he knew, all Kuti towns were made to be abandoned after no more than a year or two. As they entered the outskirts of the city, the people there stopped to gaze at them. The people weren't cowed nor did they seem to be terrified of the Angvardi. Instead, they seemed more curious and possibly even afraid of the newcomers the Easterners escorted. The Angvardi ignored them for the most part as they guided their captives to one of the larger streets toward the center of town. They did close ranks as though they were afraid of one of the Sei making a run for freedom down a dusty alley. There were a few children staring at them as they walked by, but not a great number. Most appeared to be women, Syler noted, and there didn't seem to be very many men. He wondered if they had been killed in battle as the Angvardi invaded. Either that, or they had been rounded up and marched away just like he had. There were plenty of older men and a good number of young boys, but during the trip through town, Syler saw only three men of middle age. He also noticed that every so often, they came upon a dark haired man armed and armored in mail or splint mail similar to their escorts, clearly part of the Angvardi occupation force. Something about all of them caught his eye. Though many were quite tanned, all of them seemed to have light brown or blonde hair. There wasn't a single one among them other than the Angvardi who had dark hair. Among the Sei, people had hair of all sorts of colors from dark like his to red like Havert and skin tones of a wide variety. As they continued to progress through the city, he was struck at how similar the look of the structures were to his own village. True, their houses were made of grass and mud bricks while his were mainly of hewn stone, but beyond that, the similarities were quite surprising. Chickens ran through the alleys and various fruits or vegetables were hung out to dry. Women sat in small clusters mending or washing clothes and blankets. There were a few mills to grind prairie wheat and a press for whatever juices they wanted to make. A butcher had smoked meats laid out in front of his shop to entice customers while racks of freshly slaughtered meat hang on racks farther back. There were even a few milk cows and goats in pens attached to larger houses. The people wore clothes similar to their own. From what he had heard, Syler half expected the men to run around shirtless and the women to have bones for necklaces while naked children roamed the streets covered in filth. Instead, he found them all to be well clothed in simple but tough looking brown and tan cloth. He wasn't sure what the cloth was made from, but it looked sturdy and perhaps a bit warm for this environment. Despite the similarities, there were differences. The people here were lean and strong looking, not at all like some of the plump old housewives back in Sandrin. Instead of white, blue, and grey being the primary colors of the buildings and clothes, everything was one color of brown or another with some of the nicer buildings trimmed with red paint. The roads weren't as straight, either, but instead curved with odd twists and turns with houses and markets sometimes jumbled together and other times spread out with no rhyme or rhythm to the layout. It was warmer here, too, and a lot dustier. There weren't too many green things growing and absolutely no trees. As they neared the center of the city, a gong began to ring out in a steady beat. All around them, the Kuti dropped what they were doing and drifted to the center alongside the procession. When they arrived, they saw that people were coming from all over and that there was no way for them all to fit. Even though it was rapidly filling with people, Even from their brief exposure to the city in their way in, Syler couldn't help but to think of how odd this place was and how little it fit with the rest of the city. The central square was just that: a large square in the center of the city. Syler estimated that each side ran at least two hundred yards thus creating a huge inner area. A waist high brick wall constituted the division line between the central square and the rest of the city. A good part of that area was open, but the rest was filled with the tall structure that he had seen on his way in. The building itself appeared to be six or seven stories tall and towered over everything else in the city. Instead of being made of simple mud bricks like the rest of the village, the tower was made of extremely well cut and fitted stone blocks of the same warm brown color as the dirt they walked on. The walls of the tower displayed various carvings of strange figures and even stranger scenes Syler couldn't decipher. Some of them looked nice and peaceful, but others depicted scenes of horror. The tower was guarded by an imposing set of doors made of glittering steel that appeared to shift in the light like oil on water. As a smith, he had never seen such metal before and was immediately intrigued by what it was. Torches were burning all along its perimeter even though it was it was several hours after sunup and already hot. The square around it was mostly flat like the roads, but it was cobblestone instead of packed dirt. There were swirling lines of white stones mixed with the brown that formed an odd pattern. He had no idea what their significance was, but they were unlike anything he had seen before. Every dozen or so yards there was a six foot tall pillar made of unhewn stone piled up and held together by black mortar and with a lit torch at the top. Most were brown like the rest of the square, but a few were black, grey, or even slightly greenish. The entire tower and the square around it were most unnerving things to behold and Syler hoped he wouldn’t have to spend much time around it. The Kuti were clearly used to assembling here because they did so in a neat and orderly fashion. There was an eerie silence as they did which only served to increase Syler's discomfort. The Kuti got in an ordered set of lines and sat down with their legs crossed on the cobblestones while Angvardi guards stood watch. Those that couldn't fit stood outside the perimeter wall in silence. They stood there for many minutes while more people continued to filter in. Their own guards warned them to keep silent and remain where they were, but beyond that gave no instructions. They had been huddled into a fairly small area near the tower and none of the Kuti tried to go near them. After people seemed to stop flowing in, the gong stopped. A minute after it did, the doors to the tower slowly opened without a sound. As one, all of the Kuti bowed their heads where they sat and the Angvardi went to their knees. Only a few of their guards remained standing long enough to ensure that the Sei were following the example the Kuti has set. Syler managed only to see a gaping blackness from within the tower before he joined the others in kneeling down and staring at the ground. A long, deep gong rang out and, as one, the Kuti stood to their feet. The Sei followed suit as directed by the Angvardi. Some hung their heads, but Syler was curious despite himself and wanted to see what was going on. From the door emerged several priests dressed in the various colors of their individual deities. The priests spread out and began inspecting the new arrivals. When they were satisfied, they folded their arms and stepped back to line either side of the door. At last, when all were of them were in place, another group of figures emerged from the darkness. These men, unlike the priests before them, were dressed entirely in black robes embossed with odd symbols and designs. Almost all wore swords and had leather helms on and by the way their robes were unnaturally bulky at the shoulders, Syler guessed they wore armor below the robes. Syler was busy trying to figure out who these men were when a loud male voice shattered the silence. "Welcome, brothers of the Way. Welcome to your new homes." The voice resonated off the stones like a bell leaving Syler's ears ringing. It came from a tall, powerfully built man wearing the same black robes, though his head was bare and he didn't appear to be wearing any armor. The man continued in his deep, rich voice, "This is Kubei, a new city built for our brothers and sisters of the Kuti peoples. No longer will they have to wander the lands aimlessly without purpose or plan. Now that the Kuti and the Angvardi are united, we will build great cities and roads and temples and grow together as a peaceful society." "Look out at your fellow believers in the Way," the man commanded. It took a few moments, but people began to look up. The Sei were looking at the Kuti, and the Kuti were looking right back. Syler didn't care about the Kuti in along the outside of the square, he was more interested in the man who was speaking. The man was middle aged, completely bald, and his chiseled jaw that was clean shaven. He was adorned in heavy black robes that shimmered even though he was in the shade of the giant tower. His brow was stern, his cheeks gaunt, and his eyes were as dark as his robes. From what could be seen of him, he looked to have not an ounce of fat on his muscular frame. Whoever he was, he gave Syler chills up and down his back just looking at him. The man was apparently pleased with the response of the people and nodded. "There," he said in what he clearly intended to be a soothing, placating voice. "We are all brothers and sisters here, we all follow the same Way. Your past differences are behind you. Long have your peoples fought and waged war, but those days are over. You are all part of the Unity now. "I am Uthas of Ravest, governor of the Province of Kut. Follow the Way and follow our laws and you will flourish here. Rebel and resist the Way and you shall be destroyed. I have no desire for any to come to harm for we are all needed to be unified in order to withstand the Coming Darkness, but I will not allow dissenters to stand in our way. I am stern but fair, and so are my men." He continued to drone on about their religion, propaganda about being united, and other lofty words that they were forced to listen to but that Syler didn't think meant anything. Finally, he got into explaining their laws, what was expected of them, and how they were to live. There were so many rules and Syler didn't understand why they were necessary. It seemed as though many of the rules were simply to make sure they didn't leave or gather in large numbers except when summoned here to the square. He supposed that they were still afraid of rebellions in their newly conquered lands and sought to preempt that with harsh rules and regulations. Though, he had never been to an Angvardi settlement to see what it was like there, so for all he knew, this might be what their culture was like. When it seemed he was finally satisfied that the newcomers were aware of the laws that they would be expected to follow, Uthas began praying, "Oh mighty Featwel, Unifier of us all, guide your humble servants as we make the critical decisions that we must now make. Guide the hands of your priests and ensure that the matches made are the ones you desire. Bless those who accept your selections and cause Mewela to smile upon them. If any should resist the Unity, then deliver their names to Salgeus so that he may unleash his wrath upon them. Make us stronger so that we may resist the Coming Darkness. Our lives for the Way." As soon as his booming voice faded away, he raised both of his arms and gestured to the assembled priests to begin doing whatever he wanted them to do. Sergeant Jaclens stepped forward and offered one of them a bag which turned out to be full of papers. This seemed to excite the priests greatly as they began dividing out the sheets among themselves while chattering in low tones. Syler began to wonder if these Easterners would ever get on with whatever they were doing. More papers were brought out and more priests joined the small crowd. The sun was now high in the sky and the temperature in the unshielded square was rising to uncomfortable levels. Despite being the early part of summer, it was hot here among the plains of the Kuti territories, hotter than he was used to back in Sandrin. The Kuti didn't seem to be bothered by the heat. Syler figured they were probably used to it having lived here all their lives. Now that the focus of the Angvardi wasn't upon them, they were glaring at the Sei. It was almost unnerving to see so many angry looking eyes upon them, possibly calculating how to kill the new arrivals. There were nearly four hundred of them, but they were outnumbered many times over by the Kuti. Even though there were few Kuti men in the crowd, Syler had no doubt that were the Angvardi to let them, they would quickly tear the Sei soldiers apart with their bare hands and teeth. Syler was snapped out of his reverie by a small commotion among the men he was standing with. He focused his attention back toward the long winded governor and was not at all pleased to hear what was said. "…As part of your new lives in the Way, you have been pulled away from your birthplaces and friends and parents and taken to a strange land. I understand the difficulty in doing this as I myself have done the same in leaving my home in Ravest and coming here to Kubei. Much must be sacrificed in the name of Unity in order for us to truly become one. "Your selection to come here was not random or without purpose. You were selected because none of you have families of your own. None of you have wives or children from among the Sei, but are single men who have not settled down. This is a fact that is about to change. "As followers of the Way, you are charged with complying with Unity. A large part of that Unity is in unifying as a single empire and a single religion, but that is not all of it. You are here to work among those who were once your enemies so that your cultures may blend and become one. As part of that blending, you will also take wives from among the Kuti and raise a family of your own." At that, even his loud voice was drowned out in the cries of anger and betrayal coming from among the Sei. Governor Uthas glared down at the men and with a single nod, soldiers streamed out from the perimeter and formed up around the angry men with weapons drawn and at the ready. Syler wished he was surprised, angry, or even horrified, but for some reason, he simply didn't care. No matter how much they tried to dress it up, the Easterners had captured and enslaved them. They won the war and now they were making use of the spoils as they saw fit. It didn't mean much to him because he didn't plan on being here forever. They had conquered his body, but they had not taken his spirit, not yet anyway. Uthas' voice boomed ever the louder as he spoke over the din of the Sei. "You swore an oath to the Way, this is what the Way calls you to do. We all must sacrifice and move on, we all must do our part. Each of you is to take a wife of the Kuti and fulfill your oaths." The outcry had began to die down, but there were still plenty of angered individuals who were mumbling their dissent. Uthas ignored them and continued speaking. "The priests have consulted the gods and have determined who your wives will be from among the available population of this city. You will become part of society and follow the Way as directed by the priests." With one last glare at the Sei, he stepped back and one of the priests took his place to address the crowd of Kuti. His voice was nowhere near as imposing as Uthas', but it was easy enough to hear. "The gods have spoken and guided their servant's hands. Each of you are to return to your dwellings. The gods have selected many of you husbands from among our new brothers in the Way. Before you depart, hear my words. "Women, do not resist your new husbands. They are no longer of the Sei just as you are no longer of the Kuti. Care for them as you would your own father. Tend to their needs as a proper wife should. Be faithful to them in all ways. You may not know them now, but as you both grow in the Way, it is Featwel's will that you come to love your husband with all of your heart. "Men, respect your new wives. They are no longer your enemies, but are your new family. Treat them well or face the wrath of Mewela at our hands. There will be no toleration for those who treat their wives poorly. Care for them as you would your mother. Tend to their needs as a proper husband should. Be faithful to them in all ways. You may not know them now, but as you both grow in the Way, it is Featwel's will that you come to love your wife with all of your heart." The priest paused for several long moments before continuing in a distinctly somber voice, "War has weakened our numbers. The centuries of strife between all of our peoples has diminished our population. If we are to face the coming Chaos, we must be strong and unified. When the Chaos is unleashed, our numbers must be as the sands of the sea or the leaves of the forest or all will be lost. We must present a united front and with one voice and one will oppose the Chaos. To do that, we must end the petty rivalries of kingdoms and race that once divided us. It is for that cause that the Angvardi and Terulan peoples put aside our differences and began intermarrying just as you are now. However, as you resisted our generous offer to join the Way and fought a war against our holy armies, you will have to suffer punishment. Because you submitted to the Way after being conquered, you were not enslaved, but that does not exempt you from paying for your rebellion. "Hear me! If you should not take each other as husband and wife in every way, you shall suffer the fate of the unbelievers. If your union has not produced a healthy child within one year of this day, both husband and wife shall be bound in chains and sent away as slaves." Syler was surprised to only hear cries of protest coming from his fellow Sei. The Kuti were mysteriously quiet as though they had known this was coming and accepted it. The Angvardi were quick to drop their hands to weapons and kept a vigilant eye on the crowd. It wasn't necessary for as soon as the protests started, Uthas stepped forward and raised his hands. The tips of them seemed to glow and sparkle with energy before there was a loud pop. Then, there was nothing but silence filling the square. Some of the men were still protesting, but though their mouths were moving, there was no sound that came from them. Syler tried to say, "Well, isn't that something?" but he couldn't even hear himself. It was as though all sound had been banished from the area. All sound except the booming voice of the governor. "Enough!" he shouted. "I will forgive this disruption this one last time, but any future outbursts will result in punishment." One by one, the Sei stopped protesting and kept their mouths shut. There was a fury in many of their eyes that matched that of the Kuti who continued to glare at them. The Angvardi guards relaxed and returned their focus on their leader. Uthas, seeing that the Sei had calmed down, lowered his hands and allowed the energy he had been unleashing to fade. "There," he said in a calm, satisfied voice, "those who were once Kuti may depart. Return to your dwellings and wait for the arrival of your new husbands." As one, the Kuti rose and filed out of the square in silence. It was clear that they were used to such orders because they did so in an orderly fashion and without protest. A few of the Angvardi went with them, but most stayed in the square. For the next three hours, the priests sorted the Sei into groups of a dozen or so and sent them out into the town with an Angvardi escort. Syler saw Havert being led off with others and resigned himself to waiting for his inevitable fate. There was nothing more he could do now, the Elements had spoken. He was now to be bound to a woman who was of a people who had been enemies of his people for centuries. Things had gone from bad to worse and it was all he could do to keep going through the motions. The only thing that was keeping him together was the faintest sliver of hope that he would be able to escape this place and get back to his sister. He was hardly alone. Around him, some of the Sei who were not quietly fuming were also in shock. Nobody knew what their future would hold for them. From what little they knew, they would be expected to contribute toward building this town into a mighty city. The Angvardi wanted a strong base between Lake Kart and Kasas Sei that would serve as a stopping point in their campaigns in the Deep West. From what Syler could gather, many of the nomadic Kuti were being herded into this town to populate it. He didn't know for sure, but he suspected that as more territories were conquered, more men would come to receive wives from the Kuti. "Syler Penion," a voice called out. "Step forward." Syler looked up at the Easterner who had addressed him and nodded numbly. He took a few steps forward and was corralled into a group of a dozen others. Two Angvardi escorted them out of the square and into the dusty streets that were eerily devoid of inhabitants. One by one, they stopped at seemingly random houses along the street. At each, a man was sent in to his new wife. Nobody seemed overly happy or comfortable, but at least the Angvardi were nice about it. Unlike the soldiers who brought them to the city, these were wearing light leather armor and were simple city guards. They weren't nearly as brusque or abrasive as the soldiers and seemed to even have a bit of sympathy for their charges. They didn't rush things and even tried to make some small talk. One of them, a man who introduced himself as Lamastus, allowed them to stop at a well and get some water. Lamastus talked about the town and where things were as though they were visiting dignitaries rather than men on their way into a forced wedding with their enemies. Syler wasn't too encouraged by the gesture, but he did appreciate the effort. A few of the others seemed to relax, though, so he figured the soldier's actions didn't go entirely to waste. After they had stopped at yet another house, Lamastus put a gloved hand on Syler's shoulder and said sympathetically, "This is your new home." Syler swallowed and took a deep breath. It was a simple house like most here, but it seemed to go back a little farther than the rest. The walls were made of the same mud bricks as everything else, but this had a different roof. Instead of a thatched roof, this had a tile one. Syler also noticed it had a second, larger chimney in the back that the others didn't. There was no smoke coming from it, but Syler knew what it was for because he had lived in a similarly designed house for the last few years. The Angvardi had sent him to a blacksmith's house. Lamastus let him get a good look before saying softly, "I know the woman and she is a good one. She is pleasing to the eye, but she is strong willed. Her father was what passed for a smith before he was killed in an unfortunate situation. Her mother was so taken by grief that she threw herself into his pyre and was consumed. Be good to her for she has suffered enough in recent times and deserves a good man." He pulled Syler until he was in front of him and looked into his eyes. "Are you a good man, Syler Penion?" Syler considered that question. He had tried to do right by all, but had failed. He was an breaker of oaths and was an exile from his home. If he was a good man, the Elements must not see it because they were punishing him as one who was evil. That wasn't what this soldier wanted to hear, though. It was best not to try to get into it with him, but simply give him what he wanted. "Yes sir, I try to be," he replied. "I am glad to hear it," the guard said. "We are not all monsters as you might think. We do what we must to ensure humanity survives. The Angvardi you have seen are not representative of us all. They are just the soldiers, the ones tasked to do the most difficult tasks. If you stay true to your word and follow the Way and our laws, the gods will give you peace and you can know happiness." Syler simply stared at the man blankly. Lamastus sighed at him before gently pushing him toward the door. "Well, go on then. Her name is Bronwyn." There was no more delaying here, he didn't have much a choice. Figuring he might as well as get this over with, Syler steeled himself for whatever the future had for him. With a deep breath, Syler stepped forward and knocked on the wooden door.
  20. First, thank you for following the guidelines and posting the info at the top. Second, it is good to see you back. A question about the setting: is this after the Reapers have been defeated or just after their initial assault? You asked for critique, so I shall provide it. I would recommend making these into one sentence. If you mean to emphasize them separately, I would make them two separate paragraphs. There isn't really a reason to have them in two separate sentences when they are linked to the same concept. Again, merge these two into a single sentence, just replace the period with a coma. Starting a sentence with the word "and" should be rare. Merge them into one sentence same as above. Other than those technical issues, things generally seem to be good. I didn't nitpick it too much, but those did stand out to me. The setup is good where you are describing the situation but not exactly telling us "this is this scene." There really needs to be more before I can say "oh, this looks like it is going in a good direction." I am most interested as to how you would merge a fantasy genre with a sci-fi one, but the concepts of dreams and whatnot make it interesting. Also, how long do you think this is going to be? Are you shooting for a longer story, or one that is short?
  21. I understood about a quarter of that. If you came up with that on your own, you have mastered the art of obscurity, good sir. I suppose in the modern world, that makes you a superb poet.
  22. Please remember to put up the little form before posting a new work. It can be found here. Have you and I talked about this before? For some reason, this seems very familiar and I know we have talked about a few ideas in times past, so I am wondering if this was the result of an idea floating around. Nonetheless, since I don't know if you want critiques, I will wait for that. Still, there were a few minor things like where you had two people talking in the same paragraph, but beyond that, the idea is sound and I wait for more.
  23. The second part to Chapter 3. There were a few changes, mostly minor ones. Fazei Crossing, Angvardi Province of Sei Elmbial 16th The morning after the battle, the captured men were all roused and fed breakfast. Syler was grateful to have a plate of sizzling bacon and warm bread after the previous day's ordeal. It almost felt like being at home even if his favorite eggs were replaced by thousands of strangely dressed Easterners who had just conquered his homeland and killed many of the people he had grown up knowing. By this point, the Angvardi did not seem to be as on guard around the Sei and even had short conversations with some of them. Clearly, since their conversions the previous night, they were no longer viewed as being hostiles that could revolt at any moment. They knew the value that men of the West placed on their words and trusted in their pledges to keep them in line—at least openly. In the last day, even Syler had to admit they were acting far more hospitably than he had expected a conquering army to. After breakfast, Syler managed to catch a glimpse of those Sei who had not converted being led away in chains. The sight left him numb and feeling guilty for not having the courage they demonstrated in standing up for their faith. Who was he to be able to go free when they were in chains? He had sacrificed his honor and his word and would forever have to live with that fact. Those men had sacrificed their freedom, but could hold their head high with honor. Who was the more courageous: the one who sacrificed his freedom or the one who sacrificed his honor? He deeply regretted what he had to do, what Fate had brought him to and hoped that the Elements would understand. If they didn't, then there was nothing more he could do but accept his punishment. He had to care for his sister, all else was irrelevant. Havert had said little to him since their argument. He stayed nearby, but didn't say much to him or anyone else. Instead, he mostly brewed in silence and, while Syler mostly focused inward, kept an eye out for what was going on around them. Syler feared that his decision to return to Karusa had cost him the respect of his friend. There was nothing he could do about it, though. His family came first. Around lunchtime, they began to notice various groups of Sei and Angvardi marching in various directions. Most of them were to the south and east, but a few went in other directions. Syler and Havert found themselves in a group of about four hundred men all who were eagerly talking among themselves. Havert was quickly caught up in the excitement and, despite his earlier quiet, began to mingle a little with the others to hear what rumors were floating around. He returned to Syler after half an hour and said casually, "Welp, it looks like they will be sendin' us home after all." "And it's 'bout time," another Sei said, taking the need for Syler's response away from him. "I was wondering when they would get around to it." Syler noticed the movement, but said nothing. Havert continued to talk with a few of the others but generally ignored his friend. At this point, Syler didn't much mind because he had began to become despondent over his choice. Seeing the men being carried away in chains really rattled him. The question of whether he had done the right thing was still raging within him. It didn't take long for those gathered to figure out that all of the men in their group were from areas to the northwest where Sandrin was located. It made sense if the Angvardi were going to drop them off as a long train instead of sending out numerous smaller groups that could cause problems. It might take longer that way, but it would require more men to watch them all. The men were excited about finally getting away from this entire mess and began debating what sort of changes their daily life would face under Eastern rule. In the past, their little villages and farming communities received almost no direct control from the crown. They were allowed to rule their affairs as long as they paid their taxes and offered men and supplies for the defense of the kingdom. Even when the crown got directly involved, it was almost always through a magistrate from See Sei, and that was a rare event indeed. The most important individual in their daily lives the elders who helped guide the village's collective efforts and mediate disputes. Syler remained in self imposed seclusion and reflective even as their own group was organized and ordered to form ranks. A few of the Angvardi sappers began walking up and down the column handing out supplies for their journey. They were given a simple bedroll, a flint and tinderbox, a plate and cup, and about two days worth of food. Syler wasn't too surprised to note that all of it was Sei in origin, probably taken from the camps and redistributed among the men. They didn't have much food, so either the Angvardi incorrectly believed that Sandrin was within two day's march or they intended on keeping their new converts on a short leash by withholding food. Somehow, Syler doubted that it was the former. Not long after they received their supplies, several Angvardi horsemen formed up around the Sei. One man, an officer by the looks of his golden pauldrons, began riding up and down their group. "I am Sergeant Jaclens," he said in his strange Eastern accent. "We are to depart from this camp and march to your homes. I expect this to be done in an orderly fashion. As men of the Way, it is our charge to conduct ourselves with the utmost honor and dignity when we face our duty." There was ripples of excitement among the men as they heard this news. They were all eager to return to their families and continue on with their lives, even the Seinari who had been lifelong soldiers. Syler remained silent, merely content to watch the others and their captors. Though nobody but Havert knew it, he was returning only to his shame. He had violated his word and broken his oath. Even if he was now able to help Karusa, he would never be able to regain his honor properly. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make for her. After forming up into standard marching ranks with Sei on the inside and Angvardi cavalry surrounding them, the entire group began marching. Their Angvardi led them east through the camp along a makeshift road that had been formed during the last day by the trampling of tens of thousands of feet. At first, nobody said anything and figured that the Angvardi simply wanted to get out of camp and were following some odd sort of rules. The unease along the column began to grow as they left camp and didn't swing back west to cross the river or north toward Sandrin. Their Angvardi escorts did not seem to want to make the turn, but were content in heading east away from where these men lived. The unease turned into discontented murmurs as it became clear that their escorts had no intention on turning around. One rather brave man had the courage to call out, "We live to the west, why are we heading to the east? What treachery is this?" At first, nobody answered him. Emboldened by his lead, more Sei began to call out and demand an answer. The Angvardi were now watching their charges carefully and had hands near their weapons as though they were expecting trouble. When nobody answered them, several of the Sei in the front stopped and demanded to know where they were being taken. Sergeant Jaclens rode up to the front and finally addressed the Sei. "You are being taken to you new homes. The Way has stated that all must experience Unification, and that is what shall be done." There were several outcries of anger from among the crowd. A few men shouted that they lived in the west and were perfectly happy with their homes. All of these cries were ignored by the Angvardi. "The Way demands Unity and that Unity comes through following its directives," continued Jaclens. "You gave an oath to serve the Way and the Way has directed that you must follow the path of Unification. Unification directs that you shall make your homes in Kubei among the Kuti peoples so that your people's will become one and therefore Unified. Just as the Angvardi have mingled and become one with the Terulans, so must the Sei and the Kuti. Your lives were spared only for this purpose. If you resist in this, you will be killed." The Sei were silent for several moments as the shock of that revelation swept over them. The various Kuti tribes that lived to the east of their kingdom had long been bitter enemies. They had been sending raiding parties into Sei lands for centuries and had killed countless thousands in their attacks. For their part, the Seinari had made many retaliation incursions into their territories and burned villages by the dozens. The blood feud between the two peoples had gone on for as long as either side could remember and would not be cast aside lightly. The thought of being taken from their homes and forced to live among their hated enemies was infuriating. After they recovered from the shock, cries of outrage began to erupt from the men. Some got so angry that the Angvardi drew weapons and prepared to strike them down. Seeing the drawn swords and lowered spears at the ready, most of the angry men resorted to glaring at their captors in hatred. One man made a run for it. He had apparently waited for a gap in the perimeter and for the Angvardi's attention to be focused on the more vocally angry Sei before sprinting out of the column and toward freedom. The man was through the Angvardi net and was twenty yards away before they even noticed he was gone. He kept running to the cheers of several of his countrymen. The Angvardi did not charge after him despite being on horses. Instead, one of them pulled his bow off of his back and nocked an arrow, then aimed. The escapee continued to run despite warnings from the rest of the men, but he was not able to escape the arrow once it was loosed. There were cries of outrage mixed with groans as the man's body tumbled to the ground with an arrow in his upper back. "Enough!" shouted Jaclens as he pulled on the reigns of his horse to keep it under control in the excitement. "This man's death was needless. All of you swore to uphold the Way and the Way dictates we must all experience Unity. I myself took a Terulan wife and our people had been fighting for centuries untold. None of you have wives or children at home, so you must therefore take wives of another tribe and end your blood feud with them. You must now examine yourselves and decide whether you will stay true to your oaths or if you will abandon your honor. Any who attempt to escape Unification will be put to death as heretics and oath breakers!" That silenced all of the outcries leaving only murmurings of discontent and anger. Nobody here wanted to break their word nor did they want to die. The Angvardi slowly began sheathing their swords as their charges began to calm down. None of the men were happy, but they realized that to resist now would be futile. The Angvardi were not only armed, but they had horses to run down anyone who escaped. Syler paid little attention to what was going on. As soon as he heard what their fate was, he knew that the Elements had chosen to punish him for his broken oath. He would not get to take care of his sister and, based on what the sergeant had said, she would be given to a Kuti as a wife. He had broken his oath for because no matter what he had done, he would be taken away from her. For a brief moment, he considered trying to make a break for it, but that would only result in his own death. Being dead would do his sister no good now. Wrapped up in his own grief and pain, he paid little attention as the men got back into ranks and continued their eastward march. His feet moved of their own accord acting upon hours of drills to where he didn't even need to guide them. His eyes stared into the back of the man in front of him without seeing. Havert, who was marching beside him, seemed to understand what his friend was going through and said nothing. Miles passed and the sun rose and set, all without Syler noticing or caring. He was lost in his own world of misery and rejection. He had given control of his life to the Elements and now they had apparently decided that to take him away from his sister. It made no sense. He had always revered them and followed their leadings. Why would they lead him astray now? At camp that night, Syler still had said nothing. He ate the food given to him in silence and didn't even notice that Havert was no longer with him. Instead, he was content to lie down on his bedroll and stare off at the stars. Havert came back later and set up his bedroll nearby. He whispered various rumors about their ultimate destination and what their futures would hold, but Syler didn't pay much attention. All of the rumors were just baseless worrying and Syler had no desire to comment on it. "Are ya going to say anything?" Havert asked after several minutes. "There isn't much to say," replied Syler. "Ain't ya angry or somet'in? Many of these men are." Syler shook his head in the dim firelight. "There is no reason to be angry. What was done was done and being angry about it won't help me." "You are too accepting of things." There was a tinge of reproach flavoring Havert's words. "What happened to wanting to help Karusa? Ya gave up yer honor to watch over her, but what now, eh? Should you just give that all up 'cause some Easterner decides to yank us away?" Syler let out a long sigh and allowed his shoulders to sag. "We tried fighting and failed. That tells me that either the Elements have abandoned us, they are weaker than the Way's gods, or the Elements have another plan for us that includes our being conquered. Either way, what is done is done." "Listen to yourself! Just this morning, you were eager to go back to make sure Karusa would be safe, now ya sound like a whipped dog. Don't you still want to help your sister?" "Of course I do," Syler said with a tiny bit of annoyance at the suggestion that he didn't. His friend knew him better than to think he would just give up helping her. "I would give anything to help her, but getting myself killed isn't going to do either of us any good." Havert snorted in derision at that idea. "Ya have given up. Why ain't you willing to fight?" "What point is there in fighting right now?" asked Syler in a dull, defeated voice. It was a question he had been wrestling with for hours while on the march. He knew that there was little chance of escape while they were marching and didn't want to waste the effort in considering it. However, after they arrived wherever they were going, more opportunities presented themselves. The Angvardi couldn't keep watch on them all forever. Perhaps when that time came, he would reconsider his options, but at this moment, resistance was hopeless. "What do ya think we were doin' just yesterday!" exclaimed Havert in a barely restrained whisper. He immediately looked around to see if anyone took notice. When he was satisfied nobody did, he continued in a lower tone, "We were fightin' these Easterner bastards with everything we had. Thousands of us died tryin' ta stop them from ruling over us. Now, ya want to just give up and pretend none of that happened?" "Of course not," snapped Syler, "but fighting now is not going to help things. Our King surrendered, remember? The Kingdom of the Sei no longer exists so what would you be fighting for?" "Our freedoms, the ability to go home and live how we want!" Havert shot back. With a sigh of exasperation, Syler said, "We can never go home and live how things once were because they are not. Whether we like it or not, the war is over and we are under Angvardi control now." "I will never bow to no Angvardi," Havert said defiantly. "Then what did you do before their priests last night?" Even in the darkness, Syler could see his friend's eyes narrowing and his face hardening. It took several long moments for him to respond and when he did, there was a coldness in his voice that Syler had never heard before. "I did what I had ta in order to survive and fight another day." "What do you mean, 'fight another day?'" Syler asked. For the first time, he started showing some interest in the conversation. "Exactly what I said," Havert replied defiantly. "They may have won on the battlefield, but they haven't conquered us yet." This alarmed him greatly. Syler might not have been paying much attention to things here, but he had been aware of some men grumbling about revenge and fighting on. "What are you getting into?" "All I'm a sayin' is that not everyone is happy with this betrayal. Some of us don't intend on takin' it without a fight. It may not be now, but it will be soon." "What are you going to do then? If our entire kingdom couldn't resist them, why do you think a few men on the way to a strange land can? It is pointless and you know it. You can fight them and likely get yourself killed or you can wait and see what the Elements will bring into your path." "I don't follow the Elements anymore, Syler." Now there was definite reproach in the man's voice. "I took an oath, remember? Unlike some people, my word actually means something." "Then how are you going to fight the Angvardi?" Havert shrugged a little, "I haven't heard nothin' that says the Angvardi are the sole avatars of the Way." This was very much unlike the man Syler knew. Havert had always been easy going and never held a grudge. He liked his freedoms, true, but Syler had never pictured him as vengeful or wanting to really fight. Havert had only joined the conscript company because he wanted adventure, not because he wanted to kill people. If he got involved in this, he was going to end up being forced to do some pretty hard things. Syler was no expert on fighting, but he reasoned that to fight an army that was occupying you, some very nasty things had to happen. This would be no honorable duel on an open field. "You be careful then, Havert," he said at last. "I hope you don't get yourself into more trouble than you can handle." With one final humph, Havert rolled over and said no more. Syler lay on his back and continued to look up at the stars even as he pondered what had happened to his friend. One of his traits that did remain intact was his eagerness to dive into whatever adventure or cause that caught his fancy. He always was quick to embrace some cause or ideal, even if it was typically something that allowed him to escape his chores and have fun. This trait had probably been what caused him to volunteer for the war. Yet, this was an odd cause for him to embrace. Havert had never struck Syler as one who was prone to wrath, violence, or revenge. He was far more apt to simply shrug off offenses and continue on his way than to hold grudges. Now, he seemed eager to see fighting and to continue a war that was over. It wasn't the time for that and probably wouldn't be for many months or even years. Whatever happened yesterday during the battle had clearly changed the both of them, and Syler wasn't sure it was for the best for either.
  24. Please make sure to include the proper header found here. That lets us know a bunch of good information like how much critique you are looking for and what it is rated. I don't know if you want me to address it from a serious critique standpoint, so I will only give generalities. If you want me to go through it in detail, just let me know and I will be more than happy to provide more thorough feedback and advice. Is this related to the RP character Mirdala in any way, or did you just recycle the name? I definitely like the mood of the story. You kept it vague enough to give it a sense of discovery and mystery as each new piece was brought forth. You had great descriptions and action. I noticed a few things that were a little odd, but overall it flowed quite well. With so little dialogue, your descriptions and the action were critical and you managed to make it all work. Again, let me know if you want a more detailed runthrough. I didn't want to go all psycho editor on you if you weren't looking for it.
  25. Next section is ready and it is entirely new material. For those who have read the first draft, they will recognize who the unnamed Governor is. I intentionally left out the name because he will be formally introduced shortly in Chapter 4. Nonetheless, as part of my stated desires to flesh out some of the supporting characters, I felt that this would be a key part. It also helps explain a good chunk of this character's future actions and connect a few dots. Plus, I have always found that getting into the psyche of villains was a lot of fun, especially if they think they willingly accept the evil they do in order to satisfy some grand, righteous goal. _______________ Chapter 3 The Sei have been conquered, only the northernmost regions have yet to be occupied. We have already began implementing Unification among the captured soldiers and will implement it among the general population by the end of the week. — journal entry by Angvardi General Saveron dated the day after the Battle of Fazei Crossing Kubei Angvardi Province of Kut Elmbial 15th The governor frowned at the wailing coming from the man chained to the table. The high pitched shrieks were just enough to spoil his meal and cause his ears to ring a little. With a sigh, he pushed the plate of steaming pork and fresh potatoes mixed with lentils away and focused his attention back on the subject of his annoyance. He was weary of this game and had far better things to do, but the Kuti were a stubborn people and had to do everything the hard way. He wasn't asking for much, just a single name and perhaps a location and all of this would end. This wretch was just the latest in a long, tiring string of clues along the path along the road that was necessary. The last one had barely lasted a day and suffered a mental breakdown that left her babbling senselessly. At least they had managed to use her ranting to find this man. The governor stood up from his own small table and walked across the small room to where the naked man was chained across the interrogation table. The man was lying on his back with his arms and legs pulled back to below the table line thus arching his back painfully and making it hard for him to get a deep breath. He was covered in blood and sweat and stank, but the governor, despite his new station, was no stranger to foul odors and paid it no heed. "There, there," he said with mock concern, "if you would only tell me what I need to know, it will all end here and now. There will be no more cutting, no more hot irons, and no more scourges, just the peaceful release of death. You will close your eyes here and wake up in the warm embrace of Mewela herself to rest for all of eternity." The man spat a glob of bloody spittle at the governor's direction, but was no able to hit his target. The governor responded with a swift backhand across the man's face. "That," the governor said testily, "was not called for. At every turn, I have tried to make this easier for you, but all you do is fight me. You can't blame me for what has happened to you." The man said something in his barbaric language. While he knew a little of his tongue, the governor didn't need a translation for the rest of it to sense the defiance and anger in those words. "I know you speak the Common Tongue," he admonished. "Tell me who the seer is or I will be forced to use more drastic methods." "Do your worst, beast," the man retorted. "I will not betray one of my own." There was genuine sadness in the governor's face when he responded. "Very well then, we will do this the hard way. Remember, I gave you a chance." The torturers came back in, but they were just as assistants. The governor would now be the one taking over the interrogation with his own special touch. As a sorcerer, he would never quite be able to utilize the same amount of raw power that wizards could, but his skills were more in the arcane and were far broader than what wizards or mages normally worked with. Among those skills was the ability to manipulate a man's very lifeblood and inflict terrible pain all while keeping the victim alive. It wasn't a widely advertised skill due to the questionable moral ethics surrounding it, but the governor did not care what others thought. His work lasted well into the night and the man's screams grew only louder with each passing hour. Between bouts of torture, while one of his mage assistants spent time healing the man with magic, the governor would prepare his next spells to further assault the man's will and wear it down. In one of those periods of healing, as the man was pleading for death, he had a brief moment of doubt about this course that caused him to recall the road that had led him to this dark dungeon at this even darker hour. The governor had not always been a governor. He started out as the second son of a minor noble in Pedrella Province several hundred miles to the southeast of where he stood now. He spent his first few years in the town of Plabas, an unremarkable little cluster of houses were nothing exciting or dangerous happened. He would have grown up, been bequeathed a small amount of money from his father, and started his own farm or trading company and probably never left that quiet place had the Terulans not arrived. It was a morning like any other when he was just six years old when his entire life had been destroyed. It was toward the end of the last great war with the Southerners and a large Terulan army had crossed the River Tuo from Castle Bluerock and burned their way northeast. His father had tried to get them out, but the Terulans had sent their cavalry out ahead to encircle the town so that none could escape. All male adults were rounded up and slaughtered outright. The young, attractive women were handed out to the men and abused horribly. The rest of them, as long as they didn't fight back, were simply abandoned as the army moved on. Before the Terulans left, they burned almost the entire town leaving the survivors with nothing. His father had been killed in front of him and his mother, when she tried to stop the soldiers, was sent to join him in death. His older sister, despite only being twelve, was rounded up with the young women and passed around to several men before having her throat slit. He was left alone with some neighbors who allowed him to tag along for a time. After a few months of begging and sleeping in ditches while fleeing the Terulan advance, he found himself in Ravest, capital city of the Province of West Angvrada. He, along with countless other refugees, was taken in by an orphanage and stayed there until the spark of sorcery was discovered in him. From there, he began down the path to his true destiny as a sorcerer. He had always fancied reading the old scrolls and books that the sorcerers kept. On occasion, he was even allowed to have access to some of the wizards' materials, but they typically guarded their secrets jealously. He was driven by a single hatred for those who destroyed his family to excel and lean all that he could. Because of that, and because he didn't seek the fleeting pleasures that the other young sorcerers used their status to enjoy, he grew strong and respected. Three days before he took his final trials to become a full fledged sorcerer, he received the second most devastating news of his life: peace had been declared. Their empress, Celienna, had announced her impending marriage to the Terulan bastard King Rael, the man whose father ordered the invasion that slaughtered his family. There would be no vengeance, no retaliation, no retribution, and no satisfaction for him. From that terrible day that the Terulans had marched into Plabas until he received news of the peace, all that he had dreamed of was to grow up and one day kill as many Southerners as possible. As a sorcerer, his magic would have been devastating on the battlefield and many would have felt his wrath. It was all gone now, all of it. He was so broken that he failed his trials and was forced to wait another six months before attempting them again. In that time, he fell into depression and became a recluse spending all of his time in the library. He didn't speak to anyone unless queried on something and even then, he only responded with as few words as possible. Life had gone out of him and all he had left were books and scrolls. One month before his second attempt at the trials, he was spending a long night in the darkest, most secluded section of the library when he came upon something that changed his life forever. He happened upon a small, dusty old leather bound book that bore the humble name of Prophecies of Drow Pon. There were many such books of minor prophets in the library, but he had never even heard of this one. In his apathetic state, he figured that reading this book would possibly help him fall to sleep so he picked it up and opened its cover. Sunrise found him still engrossed in the words of Prophet Pon. It was as though the prophet, an obscure man from Goteip six hundred years ago, was speaking directly to him. The book included not just prophecies, but also the prophet's interpretation and commentary on them. How these works had gone unnoticed for all these centuries was still a mystery to him, but they spoke of the Coming Darkness and the end of the world. He stayed in the library with that book for two straight days. He didn't eat nor drink the entire time. He read the small book twice over before realizing what he needed to do. From that point forward, he had found a new destiny, one of far greater importance than mere vengeance against the Southerners. He astonished his instructors and fellow students by excelling in his trials one month later. Once he was a member of the Sorcerer's Conclave, he was given more freedoms and access to new materials. He traveled a bit from library to library while searching for books of prophecy. He didn't bother looking in the places with all the "important" prophecies because people had already pondered upon those. Instead, he went to the back rooms, the cellars, and the forgotten places to look for works that had not been studied. Despite his enlightenment, he still harbored hatred for the Terulans. He couldn't force himself to forgive Empress Celienna for betraying her people and making peace with the enemy. She would have to pay for the treachery. For now, he bided his time and began formulating a plan to get his revenge against both the Empress and her beloved husband. While he did this, he also began working his way into politics and power. It took a lot of work, a lot of threats, and a good deal of manipulating to climb the ranks of Angvardi society. He had a knack for spotting important events and people and making the right decisions. Though his studies, he pinpointed places and individuals mentioned in prophecy as being important to these end times. It was only a matter of planning and doing before he could climb in power. His big break came when he foresaw the downfall of House Eszdra that controlled Dunhavo Province. He managed to maneuver himself into the good graces of those who would replace them and was able to skip several rungs on the ladder of power. Still further manipulation and a healthy dose of spilled blood landed him a spot on the short list of those considered as the next governor of the Kuti territories. All it took was the unfortunate illness of one of the contenders and threatening the wife of another to position himself among the final two. He managed to convince the other man that were he to withdraw and recommend him for the spot, he would in turn secure him governorship of the Kingdom of the Sei, a far more prominent territory, but one that he had no interest in. The Kuti lands were key in prophecy and he needed to be in charge to enact his plans. As governor of this sparse, impoverished province, he was unquestionably the least among the governors, but that was irrelevant. His power would come not in large armies or stockpiles of gold, but in being in the right place at the right time to take advantage of prophecy. There were sacrifices that had to be made to ensure his ascendancy, but they were insignificant in the long run. What did it matter if he had to torture or kill a few hundred savages if it meant he was carrying out prophecy? After all, it had been foretold already, straight from the Tetrarchy themselves, so it had to be what they wanted. And who but the gods could determine what was right and what was wrong? If he was fulfilling and enabling prophecy, then clearly he was doing what was right. Only he had been shown the prophecies, only he had the information needed. The gods had saved those books for centuries just so he could find them. It was their will, nothing less. The governor shook his head to clear it and bring himself back into the present. There was work to be done and he needed more information. The prophecies had spoken of a seer that would play a pivotal role in the life of the Master of Magic. He had discovered that that very One was to be here after the Kuti were conquered by foreigners from the East. This was that time and now he needed to know where the seer was. She would lead him to the One and once he knew who that man was, he would be able to influence things once more to his benefit. It took two more hours, but the wretched man finally broke under the power of sorcery. With tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes, he uttered two names: that of a tribe and that of a woman. It took another thirty minutes before the governor was satisfied that the man was not lying. Before he killed the man, he had his scribes verify that such a tribe existed. Not only did it exist, but the woman's name was in his records as being in this very city. With a feeling of exhilaration at the newfound information, the governor thanked the man before slitting his throat. He always kept his promises.
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