MoM: One Who Masters Magic (Epilogue)

[Travis]

Okay, I am done with this chapter. It is driving me crazy and I need a break from it. This is the chapter where Syler and Bronwyn (who have been married for over four months now) finally "do it." It was a hard enough chapter to begin with, but I decided to add an extra layer with the whole addition of Syler nearly killing Bronwyn to things.

 

There was a lot going on in this chapter and I had to move and rearrange a lot. The majority of the original chapter was wiped out, though some of the general plot was added in. The biggest change was that I wanted to do perspectives from Syler and then Bronwyn before going back to Syler. I thought it would be easier so that the reader could see where Bronwyn was (frequently mistakenly) coming from in their conversation at the end of this chapter. That being said, I am SURE there are problems and errors here. If you can find some of them, great, but I will probably have to go back over this when my eyes aren't crossed and bleary. I think you will get a chuckle at the end, though, but it is a risk having it end like that. Let me know what you think of it all because I am not sure about the entire chapter. Though, if I may say, I think the whole idea of the bathtubs is quite cool and like that addition.

 

 

Oh, I have gone back and fixed the errors you found and pointed out in your last post.

 

 

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Chapter 25

 

• Mishna felgua, eka iares haelait tresual neith dalfedas laprat.
  [Love often, for we don't know what tomorrow brings.]
   
  — Kruish saying

 

Lord Saekoris' Estate

Thwrud

Subeleth

October 3

 

True to his word, Lord Saekoris had Vekla escort them a short distance to where his house stood tall compared to the rest of the buildings. Syler was impressed at its size and imposing architecture. No house in Sandrin was anywhere near this large and only a few of the highest officials in Kubei had such estates.

 

It wasn't just the size that was imposing, it was how the house was built. Syler was not used to being in the presence of such large and richly decorated structures. There were details here that were clearly beyond the means of the common folk, yet for some reason, they didn't seem luxurious. Everything here had a purpose and seemed to be made with care to either invite guests or turn away intruders. Everything was finely crafted, but it wasn't gaudy.

 

The grounds were surrounded by an iron wall with yet more pine trunks to serve as posts. Guards patrolled the perimeter and watched over the entrances. While they weren't exactly hostile looking, especially with Vekla leading them, they did not have the look of complacency about them. These were men who were used to fighting and had not yet had their senses dulled by age or lack of action.

 

Inside the wall, tall hedges ran along either side and toward the back of the house itself to provide privacy. To the left side of the house, connected by a covered walkway, was a large stable clearly meant for housing hasuan. The roofs of a few other buildings that could be servant's quarters stuck out behind the stable, but Syler couldn't get a close look at them.

 

The entire house itself was made out of giant pine trunks that had been stripped of their limbs and stacked on top of each other. Dark brown mortar filled in the gaps between the logs. Seemingly everywhere there was space, the tall carved pillars loomed over them with their engravings of war, death, and destruction contrasting with depictions of feasts, harvests, and children. Along the eves were more carvings of fierce bearded warriors and hasuan to guard the house from whatever evils the Krue were afraid of.

 

The house's outer walls went straight up for three levels with tremendously wide pine logs serving as stabilizers at the corners and at regular junctions. Ropes secured the horizontal logs to the vertical ones and whatever holes were left had more of the dark mortar plastered within. Syler could see multiple windows with the warm light of fire shining from within, though most had curtains for privacy.

 

Torches lit the grounds and the building itself with tremendous fires burning atop them. Having never been in an environment where flammable material was exactly abundant, to see so much fire struck him as a great waste. Perhaps here, among so much wood and tinder, the Krue had grown accustomed to a nearly infinite amount of burnable resources and took advantage of that fact.

 

The front doors were made of wood framed in brass, similar to the longhouse, but with much more metal. The brass had more murals etched into it, but these were mostly writing in the Krue's strange runic language.

 

Entering the house was equally imposing and awe inspiring. Greeting them was an impressively large double staircase and a chandelier with another ball of free floating natural fire burning above it. The floors and stairs were made of dark, polished wood. Syler couldn't see much past this room because the other doors were closed, but there were plenty of servants waiting to show him to his place.

 

They were greeted by five individuals, three men and two women. Two of the men and both women were dressed in similar, simple robes while the last man was dressed in finer materials and seemed to be the one in charge. After a few brief words with Vekla, the four servants quickly glided silently up to them and directed them forward. Vekla remained at the doorway while the two of them were escorted in through the doors between the two staircases. Once within, they were separated. When he protested, the servant merely said in a thick accent, "Men do not bathe with women, it not proper. See her after."

 

It made sense, but after being so physically close to her for weeks, it seemed unnatural not to be within arm's reach of her. This would be the first time that he had been away from her since rescuing her at the Kubei Temple. She didn't protest and he had so far seen nothing to give him cause for alarm, so he relented and allowed himself to be taken down a separate hallway.

 

Syler was taken into a room at the end of the hall with a set of stairs that led down into the ground. Instead of being cold underground, it felt warmer and almost inviting. The three of them went through another door at the bottom of the stairs and immediately, Syler understood why they were below ground. The air was far warmer here and decidedly more humid, so he assumed that there had to be hot springs running below the house that had been converted into bathing rooms.

 

At the door, the two male servants tending to Syler went straight to a door on the other side of the room leaving him to explore its contents. He found himself in a small waiting room with several racks, chests, and wardrobes lined up along the wall. The door that the two servants had entered had wisps of steam coming out of it and he assumed that was where the bath was.

 

The clothes on the racks were mostly padded leather garments or furs, but there were a few lighter woolen pieces. Since they had led him here and Lord Saekoris had offered his hospitality, Syler assumed that he was meant to help himself to what was in the room. He was quite eager to get out of the clothes he had been in for the last month. Even with an extra pair to alternate in, they were still filthy and threadbare and he was more than eager to be out of them.

 

In addition to the clothes, the room also had combs, razors, belts, four different types of knives, and jewelry. The jewelry was mostly gold or silver, though Syler noticed a few pieces that had platinum in them. Few had any gems in them at all, but were mostly bracelets and complexly interwoven chains. He admired the intricate metalwork of each piece and noted some of the styles that the smiths had used. Despite the utilitarian functionality of their clothing, the Krue apparently valued delicately crafted and very detailed metalwork. He hoped that he might have a chance to meet whatever goldsmith crafted these pieces and learn some of what he knew.

 

When he had selected some clothes that looked like they would fit, Syler entered the back room. The first thing he did was to take a deep breath and savor the warm steam. Unsurprisingly, the room smelled of pine, but beneath it was a subtle hint of spices that had a slight musky scent. In front of him was a stone tub with hot water bubbling out of multiple holes in the front and apparently flowing out of more holes in the back. The current didn't look to be very fast, but it would be enough to take away most of the dirty water. He had not been able to enjoy a hot bath in a very long time and would truly enjoy this.

 

The two men were waiting for him, one with a small collection of towels and the other with various soaps and brushes. They clearly were under the impression that he would need them to tend to him, but that wasn't what Syler was interested in. He was old enough to bathe himself and didn't need any help, especially from strangers. "I don't think I will be needing your services," he said.

 

They gave him blank looks, so he motioned for them to leave the towels and soap before pointing to the door. They didn't quite seem to get his intent, so he gently took what they were holding, set it down, and guided them out of the door. He didn't stop there, but made sure they were back out in the hallway so he could have both rooms to himself.

 

He peeled off the old and dirty clothes and got into the steaming hot water. There were scented soaps and actual towels to use near the tub. After the days of endless travel and nothing but a blanket to shield him from the cold, hard ground at night, this made him feel far, far better. He quickly scrubbed off all of the dirt and grime from his body and dunked his head under the water several times before applying some of the soap to it as well.

 

As he was in more of a stream than a tub, the water didn't get cold or stale, but was constantly refreshed by the underground stream. Syler wanted to stay and soak for hours, but he also wanted to see to Bronwyn. He was eager to be able to speak to her in private now that she was fully conscious. So far, they hadn't had a moment alone together.

 

After getting out and drying himself off, he put on the clothes he had selected. Furs and leathers were probably too warm for the autumn day, so he had selected a deep green shirt made of wool and some matching trousers. He added to that his sword belt and another smaller leather belt and knife from Lord Saekoris' stock. Without the furs and leather armor that most Krue men were wearing, this probably wasn't going to help him blend in among the culture here, but it was simple and plain, just as he liked it.

 

As soon as he was dressed, he called for the servants. They entered immediately and Syler figured they had been waiting outside his door the entire time. "Take me to where Bronwyn is." He hoped she had been able to enjoy the luxury he had just experienced and was relaxing. Now that they had both had the time to clean up and get into some fresh clothes, he hoped that she would be feeling far better and well rested.

 

The two men looked at each other, then back at him. One of them said in an apologetic voice, "Kae haelait usasto nua, senaer."

 

"What?"

 

The men shook their heads again, though one held up a finger and said, "L'oreathus." He trotted out of the room leaving the other man watching over his charge.

 

The first man returned a couple of minutes later with the finely dressed man who had greeted them earlier. "What is it that the lord's guest desires?"

 

"I want to be taken to where Bronwyn is," said Syler. "She is the woman that came with me."

 

The man bowed his head and said, "Follow me, senaer."

 

The four of them ascended the stairs and were back onto the ground level and quickly ended up back at the entrance to the estate. This time, though, Syler was led up to the second level and into a room.

 

The room was luxurious beyond what Syler could have ever expected to spend any amount of time in. Unlike the rest of the house, this room had thick dark red carpet laid over the wood planks that made up the floor. A giant bed with a dark green comforter and plush white pillows rested in the middle of the back wall of the room. To either side of the room were dark dressers with assorted accessories for both men and women on top. Above the dressers were actual mirrors surrounded by carved wooden frames. Two plush leather chairs sat in one corner on either side of a small table that had various foods and drinks already placed on it. Clearly, when Lord Saekoris offered his hospitality, he didn't hold back.

 

About the only thing the room didn't have in it was Bronwyn. Syler turned to the man with anger quickly rising and asked heatedly, "Where is she? You told me that you were taking me to my wife."

 

The man bowed his head, but stood his ground. "I say no such thing, senaer. I say to follow, you follow. Wife is where women go and will come here when ready." He gestured to the food and said, "Here, eat and enjoy Ley Saekoris' gifts."

 

Syler crossed his arms and considered arguing, but stopped short. If Bronwyn wanted to spend a little more time enjoying the hot springs, who was he to deny her that. As much as he wanted to see her, he was willing to wait until she was ready.

 

 

 

Bronwyn went where the two women were leading her without complaint. Even if Syler was a little hesitant about parting ways, she knew just enough about the Krue to know not to try to fight them in their own house. They led her down to an opulent waiting room full of beautiful clothes and jewelry, but none of that got her attention. The thought of a bath only slightly garnered her interest, but she knew she needed one. Besides, it would give her a chance to see exactly what Syler had done to her when he healed her body.

 

She allowed the two servants to pull off her matted clothes and help her into the steaming hot tub of flowing water. She had to admit, it felt absolutely wonderful, though not as good as it should have. Usually, after just a single day's work with Syler in the forge, she was sore all over and it hurt getting into their old wooden tub. She had been on the road for a month while extremely injured and yet, when she stretched out in the water, she didn't feel any sore muscles or aching joints. In fact, she felt quite good all things considering.

 

As the servants scrubbed her skin clean and tended to the hair that had magically grown back down to the middle of her back, she looked over her body. There was not a single mark anywhere to be found on her skin. Every trace of what the Shalktra had done to her was gone and, in its place, there was healthy skin. Her lips were no longer cracked from dehydration, but were soft and full. Her finger and toenails had mended together and were no longer tiny fractured from when they hammered her fingers. The hair on her head wasn't the only thing to return, either. The hair under her arms, between her thighs, and on her arms and legs had regrown and filled in where it had been ripped out or burned off. The bones that had been broken were back in their original spots and her face once again felt normal to her exploring fingers. Even the calluses on her hands and feet had faded and been replaced with soft skin.

 

More curiously, her scars were gone. Not the ones that she received during those horrible three days, but all of them. The small scars on her fingers where she had cut herself while working with flax fibers or in the kitchen were gone. The scar on her side from the time she fell into a thorn bush and gotten cut up was no longer there. Her skin was flawless, without any imperfection, as though someone sheltered her from the time she was born to the present. With a small sense of happiness, she realized that the birthmark on her knee was still there. Her father had always joked that it looked like a lemon from the South with a tiny stem and leaf still attached, but she couldn't see it.

 

Anyone who could command such magic was someone who had great power, and it scared her. She had but a few memories of what had happened since being captured. For the most part, she remembered blurs of endless pain and humiliating rape, then there were only dreams. She wouldn't have known how long she had been out except for the fact that she had been told.

 

She walked out of her house to go to the market leaving behind a normal, gentle, and caring, if not somewhat distant, blacksmith of a husband and woke up to find that he had become an extremely powerful wielder of magic who had the respect of the Krue because he was destined to become some sort of champion against the Immortals themselves. It was a lot for her to take in and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She had grown up an outsider because of how she was born. She had only wanted to be normal, to be loved, and to have a peacefully dull life. That dream was gone now, and it wouldn't be coming back even if she wanted it to.

 

Then there was Syler. The man whom she had been living with had surprised her. He had gathered enough men to rescue her, and he had been changed forever by what followed. He had killed and been hunted and those things changed a person. She had seen it in the fresh new warriors who left the village with excitement in their hearts and returned with pain in its place.

 

He had always wanted to go get his sister, and now he could. Without her stopping him or slowing him down, he would be able to move much faster. He didn't even have to worry about the guilt of leaving her in hostile territory since the Krue had extended sanctuary to her and that didn't expire until the lord who issued it died or she violated the hospitality. He could go off and rescue his sister and leave her behind without second thought.

 

She knew that he risked much to free her, but that didn't mean he wanted to be stuck with her forever. He was a good and honorable enough man to make sure that his friends were taken care of. Had it been Havert that had been captured, he would have done the exact same thing. She was just a friend to him, someone who he cared about, but could never truly love. Back in Kubei, she had vowed to love him no matter whether he loved her back, but now, in the middle of Krue territory, that vow seemed foolish. Why would he want to keep her around? She had no useful skills out in the wilderness and couldn't fight, so she was worthless to him.

 

She had not been able to hold out against their questioning. Instead of being strong, she had told them everything she knew about Syler and her kvastati. She was weak and unworthy of such a valiant man. That was especially true if he was indeed more than a simple blacksmith, but was this Majiyae Oretezu that Lord Saekoris thought he was. How could he ever love her now?

 

Besides, any hope she had ever had that he would ever want her were gone now. She might be healed on the outside, but he knew what had happened to her. He had seen the results of the rape and how her body had been horribly violated. One of the most important things for any young woman was to remain pure and untainted for her husband, and she had failed miserably.

 

Syler didn't know what exactly they did to her or how they abused her. Man after man had come in and had their way with her while she was chained and helpless. The pain they caused was more than just physical, and that was the point. They had used and broken her in the most personal, humiliating way imaginable. If Syler knew what had happened, he would never be able to look at her again. She couldn't hold this back from him and would have to tell him sometime, but she feared so much to do so.

 

She let out a small cry as the very thought of the look of disgust Syler would have on his face when he found out. The servants let out a startled gasp and immediately started asking her what was wrong. "Fao raleeth fos aestkra," she assured them both, though her cheeks were growing red. She now felt even worse now for having startled the servants. They gave her a strange look, but went back to work.

 

Bronwyn felt a flash of self consciousness and felt unworthy of being tended to by others. She was nothing special, so she didn't deserve having servants tend to her. "Vangroos bwe," she said, asking them to leave her. They paused, but didn't start to leave, so she repeated herself with a little more force. As soon as they had set down what they were holding and bowed their heads, they departed the room and left her in peace.

 

When they were gone, she was able to think in peace without them preening around her. Her thoughts were dark and brought her only more pain. During the hazy weeks of their flight, she could remember only certain things, and one of those things was a vision of Syler thrusting a knife into her heart. She knew he derived no pleasure from the action, but it showed that his patience for dealing with her had a limit. He did care for her, she knew that much at least, but his care had limits. Maybe he should have done it and ended it all then and there. It would be so much easier than facing him.

 

That vision of him standing over her with a knife contrasted so much with what he said and dreamed that she couldn't tell what was true any longer. He seemed eager to be near her while speaking with Lord Saekoris, but how much of that was happiness to see a friend back on her feet and how much of it was gladness that he was no longer bound to her? Perhaps he would be better off without her dragging him down. If it wasn't for her, he could have been with his sister at this very moment and living a happy life in the mountains as he had dreamed of. She was just an extra piece of baggage, a burden that he wouldn't tolerate bearing forever.

 

She wanted to stay in the warm bath and hide forever, but she couldn't. They would wait for a time, but the servants would eventually overcome their fear of her commands and escort her out. She had wallowed in misery and doubt long enough, it was time for her to face Syler and discover what the future had in store for her.

 

There was no need to make a scene and only further embarrass Syler, so she got out of the water. After spending so long in the hot water, the cool air was chilling and sent goosebumps up and down her body. She quickly grabbed a towel and started drying herself off. When she was dry and had put on some clean clothes, she opened the door to where the servants were waiting to escort her to wherever they were told to take her.

 

 

 

Syler was sitting in one of the leather chairs when he heard someone outside the door. Expectantly, he got up and stood there hoping that it would be Bronwyn. He had been waiting here for perhaps half an hour and was growing impatient. He knew how long it took Bronwyn to bathe and this was excessive. If they kept her from him for too much longer, he was going to cause a scene and put his host's benevolence to the test.

 

When Bronwyn stepped through the door, his heart skipped a beat. She wore an off white tunic that she had wrapped around her thin body and her hair was still wet, but she left it down to flow to the middle of her back. She was cleaner than he had seen her in a great long time and, best of all, wasn't covered in wounds and blood soaked bandages. She didn't limp or seem to have any residual injuries at all.

 

Then he saw her face. Her eyes were glazed over and looked slightly reddened as though she had been crying. Her shoulders sagged a little which made her head droop like she was holding a great weight on her back. She moved without purpose or hope like a condemned woman on her way to the chopping block. Truth be told, Syler thought that she looked lost and overwhelmed, but he didn't say anything.

 

"How are you?" he asked cautiously.

 

She gave him a faint smile, but, like back in the clan house, it wasn't genuine. "I feel better. The bath helped." Her voice was just like her smile: fake.

 

"That is good," he responded not knowing what else to say. He had been so eager to see her and talk to her in a real conversation for weeks now, but now that the time had come when he could, he was nervous and didn't know what to say. He had pictured it in his mind over and over, but his imagination hadn't been able to come up with anything like this.

 

"It has been a hard month, hasn't it?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

 

She looked down and nodded.

 

"I hope you weren't hurting too much, I tried to keep you as comfortable as possible, but it was hard to do with us being on the move."

 

"I know," she said. She didn't speak for a little while and Syler didn't know what else to say. She walked over to the foot of the bed, but didn't sit. Instead, she remained standing and fidgeted with the hem of her tunic and staring at the ground.

 

There was silence for several minutes because Syler didn't know what to say and Bronwyn didn't seem eager to start a conversation. The two servants must have picked up on the awkwardness of the situation because they began to look nervous. Despite that, they stood dutifully at attention waiting to be called upon even though Syler didn't think they would know the Common Tongue any more than his two servants did.

 

"I feel sorry for the servants," Syler said, once again trying to lighten the mood. "They have no idea what is going on, but aren't moving because they are trained not to."

 

Bronwyn took a few seconds to snap out of her thoughts. When she did, she said, "Nua butheur vangroos nare aktura." They both bowed their heads and left without a word, looking relieved to be able to do so.

 

"You speak Kruish?" asked Syler with raised eyebrows.

 

"Kruish and Kutiic are very similar languages," she explained in a dull, disinterested voice. "They are close enough for us to understand each other if we use simple words."

 

"Oh," he said. He hadn't known there was any connection between the Krue and Kutii beyond the fact that both of their names started with a "k." From what he had seen, the two cultures were so different that he didn't even see any similarities between them at all, but he didn't press subject. He would have to ask Lord Saekoris about it later.

 

Even though the servants were gone, Bronwyn didn't say anything, but went back to staring at her feet. Something had changed in her even from when they were talking with Lord Saekoris. She seemed afraid of him now, and that concerned Syler a great deal. The entire situation reminded him somewhat of the first evening they had together back in Kubei and he had been afraid of saying something wrong. Syler didn't know what to do, so he just kept standing there in silence waiting for her to speak.

 

At last, she looked up at him and hesitantly asked, "Did you mean it?"

 

Syler furrowed his brow and said, "Mean what?"

 

"The part about loving me and wanting to spend the rest of your life with me."

 

Syler sagged in relief. If that was what she was worried about, then he was relieved. "Yes, most definitely yes. I was a fool not to see it before, but when you were taken, it crushed me. I couldn't bear to live without you. The most important thing in my life at that point was getting you back." He paused, then added with a slight smile, "It was important enough for me that I even went to Growald for help."

 

That last comment earned him a faint smile that seemed to be genuine. The smile rapidly faded and was replaced with a more serious face. "Am I really the most important thing in your life?"

 

"I just said you were," replied Syler. "I love you and would give up anything for you."

 

Her head snapped up and her eyes focused intently on him. "Even Karusa?" she asked. There was no hesitation in her response, she was a hawk locked onto her prey. The change startled Syler causing him to involuntarily shirk back in his chair.

 

He had to consider carefully how to respond to this. Clearly, this was something that was weighing heavily in her mind and he needed to come up with a clear, correct answer. "Karusa is my sister and will always be so," he said cautiously. "I love her and would fight to get her back because she is my sister." He looked into her eyes and said in a steady voice, "But that is not why I love you or why I fought to get you back. I love you because you are a wonderful woman who is compassionate yet strong, dedicated yet independent, and are someone I can trust. I love you because I choose to love you.

 

"We were made husband and wife against our will while we were strangers to each other. In time, I think we came to love each other, at least I did. From what I understood of that night when I fought Growald, I think you came to love me as well. I took you for granted before and that was my mistake, one that I regret heavily, but not one I wish to repeat.

 

"I had a choice to make during our journey. I could have killed you and put you out of the pain and terror you were in and then been able to continue on to find my sister, or I could come up here to the Krue and risk my life that they wouldn't skewer me on sight, and leave my sister in whatever situation she is in. I suffered and had the others with us suffer taking you across hundreds of miles of harsh terrain in the determination to see you saved and because I was unwilling to leave you to your death."

 

"Then why did you want to kill me?" Bronwyn blurted out. Her fists were balled and she took a few steps toward him.

 

"What?" he exclaimed.

 

"Don't say you didn't!" she cried. "I saw you with a knife and your dreams of plunging it through my heart!" Her cheeks were getting red with emotion and her lower lip was quivering as she tried to hold in the tears. She was now standing over him glaring down at him with manic desperation in her eyes.

 

Syler's cheek blazed in shame and he could no longer hold her gaze. "I was at my wit's end at Fazei Crossing when it seemed that there was no way to get across. The Angvardi had blocked off the bridge and there was no way you would survive a crossing. You weren't healing and nothing I was doing was helping. I had no other choice but to continue indefinitely with you suffering and no hope in sight or to give you a quick death."

 

He reached out and took hold of her hands, only vaguely noticing that they were cold. "I couldn't let you continue to suffer, so I decided to do the only merciful thing I could do."

 

"You wanted to kill me," replied Bronwyn with pain written all over her face. She pulled her hands out of his and retreated to the foot of the bed once more. There, she sat down and hang her head while burying her face in her hands.

 

"Bronwyn, I didn't mean it like—"

 

"No, don't apologize," she interrupted, though she kept her face buried. Her voice brimmed with defeat and acceptance of a seemingly inevitable doom. "You were right to do that and I understand that, I really do."

 

"No, I wasn't," said Syler firmly. "It was short sighted and I should have never thought that. I don't know what came over me, but if I could, I would go back to that moment and stop myself from even considering killing you."

 

"You couldn't keep holding onto me forever, Syler," she replied softly. "You did more than any man would be expected to do."

 

"No, if I had been a truly honorable man, I would have kept on going. Havert was right and I was wrong," admitted Syler miserably.

 

Bronwyn lifted her head. "You have to consider your sister and your duty to her."

 

"My duty to my sister does not supersede my duty to my wife. I should have risked going into a city to find a healing mage or even a wizard."

 

"It wouldn't have done any good," she pointed out.

 

"Yes, but I didn't know that then," replied Syler. "There was no excuse and I nearly killed you." He paused and stared at the floor. "I failed you," he added bitterly.

 

Now it was Bronwyn's turn to grab his hands. She got up and crossed those few feet and kneeled down in front of him. She took both of his calloused hands in her smooth ones and brought them up to her mouth to kiss them. "No, Syler Penion, you didn't fail me, you saved me. Twice. It was I who failed you when I couldn't resist those men torturing me for information about you."

 

"Don't you ever think that." He thought he had made it clear to her back in the storage yard in Kubei that he didn't hold it against her. "I told you, I don't think that is your fault. They used magic against you and did unspeakable things to get you to talk. Those men are monsters who are well trained in how to torture information out of soldiers and men far stronger than either of us." Syler noticed that her hands, while slightly warmer than before, were now trembling at the memories of what happened to her and immediately regretted bringing it up.

 

"I should have held out, I should have fought them more," she mumbled. "I should have held onto my hope or keeping the faith."

 

"Is that what this is about?" he asked in surprise. "You are upset with yourself for not thinking I would come for you and for giving up?"

 

She shook her head slowly and let out a single sob. "I knew you were coming for me, I had seen it. It wasn't you I was doubting, but myself. I knew that you would get me out of that dungeon, but I…" she paused and wiped away tears. "I didn't dare hope you would ever love me."

 

Syler looked at her slack-jawed. "What?" he asked incredulously. He was prepared to say more, but then he realized that it wasn't such an illogical question. He had turned her down and all but ignored her advances for months. Yes, they were close friends, but he held himself back when it was clear she wanted more. How could he fault her for thinking that he would never love her?

 

"Okay," he admitted, "you had good reason to wonder that. I don't hold that against you at all because I was pretty clear how I wanted things before you were taken. As I said, I was a fool. That sort of changed pretty quickly after I realized you were gone. I love you, Bronwyn, and I will stay by you until I am dead. I even stood up against my gods for your sake."

 

She bowed her head and hid her expressions behind her hair. "I am not worthy of that sort of devotion."

 

Syler tried to keep the indignation out of his voice at such a ridiculous statement. "Am I not able to determine who I think is worthy of my love? I choose who I love and who I don't, and I choose to love you."

 

Her head jerked to the side in dismissal, but she didn't say anything. "I wish I could believe you, but it just doesn't make sense."

 

"What doesn't make sense now?"

 

"I could see them while you slept, but I wasn't sure what was real and what wasn't."

 

Syler shook his head in confusion, "What?"

 

She finally looked at him and said numbly, "Your dreams."

 

"My dreams…" repeated Syler expectantly.

 

"I don't know how, but I could see your dreams while we were on the road. Not just my normal kvastat, but your actual dreams. Every night, I could see them. Sometimes they were clear, sometimes they were murky and faded quickly. I suppose that is how dreams are when we have them and forget most of them each night, but I was aware of every one."

 

Syler sat back in his chair and thoughtfully scratched his beard. That was new. He hadn't had any idea she could do that as she had never mentioned it before. He supposed with all the strange things going on with him and his newfound abilities, anything was possible, but it was a strange thought to have someone watching all of his dreams.

 

She was expecting an answer, so he had to quickly sort thought his own thoughts to give her one. "I am sorry if that is confusing to you, but I am here now and will answer whatever questions you have."

 

"Why me?"

 

Syler couldn't help but chuckle at that. "You, of all the women I have ever known, are the most worthy of my love, otherwise, I wouldn't have done what I did. How couldn't I love you? You have been good to me and are a smart, caring woman who works hard and expects nothing in return. You tolerate me even when I don't deserve it and cared for me when I needed it. You could have rejected me from the first, but you didn't. Even when you knew I was planning on leaving Kubei, you wanted to go with me and leave behind your people and everything you knew. I know you loved me, even though I was stupid and didn't return it.

"On top of it all, you are a beautiful woman, more beautiful than any I have ever seen, and not just on the outside. I love the way you laugh when I say something funny, the way you are willing to work hard in the forge just so you could be around me. I enjoy your cooking, too, and admire the way you are willing to sacrifice for me without hesitation. I admire how you are willing to accept my quirks, my culture, and my friends even though they are so strange to you."

 

More tears fell down her cheeks, but she said nothing. Syler began to get the sense that there was something else that was eating away at her. They had been dancing around the issue all evening and she had yet to address it. "What is it really, Bronwyn?" he said in a soothing voice. "What is making you so upset? Please, just tell me so I can to make it better."

 

"I don't understand. How could you ever love me now?" she asked. Her eyes found his and didn't move.

 

Syler wanted to slap his face in frustration, but didn't dare act on that. "I just told you why I love you, and that was just a small part of it." Again, she didn't respond. He could tell she was on the verge of saying something, but she couldn't let herself voice her fears. "Bronwyn, you saw my dreams, my inner desires and hopes, and you know I love you. I don't know what it is that you think is so heinous that would change all of that, but I can't think of anything that would make me stop loving you. You could plunge a dagger into my heart right now and my last thought would be on how much I love you."

 

"Syler," she said at last, with tears still streaming down her red eyes. "There is something you don't know."

 

He arched a single eyebrow and tried to keep his face calm. Whatever this dark secret of hers was, it was enough to bring her considerable distress. His own fears began to surface. What if she had lost her love of him after what happened? What if she was having second thoughts about living the hard life he was surely destined for? She had spent the last fifteen minutes trying to persuade him not to love her and that she wasn't worthy, what if that was just her attempts to drive him away as easily as possible without having to break his heart herself? He waited literally on the edge of his seat for her to continue.

 

After hesitating, Bronwyn flushed red and finally said, "I should have told you this when we were talking in Kubei, but I was too ashamed. I wanted to keep myself just for you. I vowed that even if you were to love another woman and would never touch me, I would not give myself to another man. What those Haresu did to me in that cell…" she shuddered from the memory of it. "I was violated in every way. I am not pure any longer and am not worthy of you." When she finished, she finally collapsed to her knees in front of him and wept into his lap.

 

Syler was stunned. He just sat there staring at her in incredulity for a few seconds trying to comprehend it all. That is what she was so worried about? Of all the things he could have pictured, her worries over that was the last of them. "Bronwyn," he said quietly as he gently cupped her chin in both hands. "You didn't violate your vows or betray me. You didn't give yourself to those men, they forced themselves upon you. I know what they did to you and I don't care. It didn't take long for me to figure out what happened to you when I saw what they did to your body. You are not responsible for their brutality, they are. You have done nothing wrong. I don't care what they did to you in that cell, you are a perfect and pure woman in my eyes."

 

She looked up from his lap and sobbed once more, but was clearly trying to choke back the tears. "You would still have me even though I have been violated by many men?"

 

"Yes, Bronwyn, I would," Syler said without hesitation. "I love you and that is all that matters."

 

She made a strained sound deep in her throat. It sounded somewhat like a gasp of surprise disguised as a sob. Her eyes were still glassy and red, but now they held hope that she didn't dare completely give into. "You are a good man, Syler. Better than I deserve."

 

"Nonsense, you are more than I deserve," he said. Gently, ever so gently, he slid out of the chair and onto his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and just held her while she sobbed into his shoulder.

 

They stayed like that for a good deal of time while she just let all of her pent up emotions out. Her chest heaved with great sobs and she cried until no more tears could come. Through it all, even though his legs were growing numb, Syler stayed there holding her tightly against him. Not all of the tears shed were hers.

 

 

 

It was just before dawn when Syler was awakened by Bronwyn's shifting against him. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms on the floor, half propped up against the side of the bed. It wasn't exactly a comfortable position, but he had been in worse and at least she wasn't crying any more. Whatever emotions, reservations, or doubts she needed to get out had apparently been released earlier, for when he saw her face, it was happier than he had seen it since she woke up.

 

"Hello," she said cheerfully.

 

"Hello back to you," he replied. "Are you feeling any better?" She nodded with a small smile, so he added, "Do you believe me now when I say I love you?"

 

She blushed, though this time Syler thought it looked cute. "Yes," she mumbled. "I am so sorry that I underestimated you. I should never have doubted you."

 

"It is okay, I forgive you." He tried to flash a serious look, but didn't think it worked. "Just don't you ever forget that again. I would fight through the pits of Vakleem to save you if I had to."

 

"I know." She hesitated for a moment, then grinned teasingly. "You know what I said about seeing all of your dreams? I was wondering if you meant them."

 

"Meant my dreams?" asked Syler hesitantly. "If you mean the parts about wanting to live in peace with you and Karusa and our friends, yes, I did. If you mean the parts about me loving you more than anything else, then yes."

 

"What about the rest?" she asked playfully.

 

Syler blinked a few times. "What rest?"

 

"You know," she said suggestively, "the other things you dreamed about doing with me." Syler's blank expression suddenly changed to panic as he caught onto exactly what she was referring to. Seeing his eyes widen, the grin she was wearing turned into a full blown smile that only got bigger when he flushed in embarrassment.

 

"Umm, well, er," he stammered while trying to find a way out of this. "I can explain."

 

She arched her perfect brow and said with mock sternness, "You had better, Mr. Penion." She snuggled up closer to him and her voice turned sultry. "You had better explain it in great detail. In fact, I think you should show me exactly what you meant."

 

Syler's ears burned in embarrassment and surprise. Whatever issues she had had before were apparently well and done buried along with all the tears. Suddenly conscious of his subconscious mind, he wondered exactly what he had been dreaming about while they slept together because it was one of those nights when he couldn't remember anything but blurs.

 

He didn't have any more time to think about it because suddenly, Bronwyn's lips were on his in a kiss surprisingly full of desire and need. He felt her arms snake around his back as she straddled him on the floor. Any embarrassment was forgotten in the heat of the moment as he wrapped his own arms around her and pulled her to him so fiercely that she gasped in surprise.

 

When they broke the kiss, she looked down at him with deviousness in her eyes. "Syler Penion, husband, I have waited for a long time for this moment and I did not envision laying out on the floor as being part of it. There is a perfectly good bed right behind us that looks far more comfortable, so I suggest we use it."

 

Syler didn't feel like disagreeing one bit.

[DarthBrendo]

and were no longer tiny fractured from when they hammered her fingers.

Typo...fractures?

 

The only issue I have is that the transition from the night to the morning is to sudden...in terms of Bronwyns change. It feels to rushed in her going from depressed and expecting to be cast aside, to everything being fine. I don't know how else you would handle it, or even if it's just me, but that's my only concern at this point.

[Travis]

Yea, originally it was something like "tiny fractured nails" and a slightly different ending, but I edited it because I used "nails" twice. I will fix that up.

 

As for the morning transition, that was my concern. I think I will go through and have a little bit more before at the end of the night segment to show her beginning to see hope again. I will work on it a tiny bit more and then see if I can't make that work a little better. I definitely wanted Bronwyn to be a bit more accepting and even perhaps aggressive than the original version. The way I see it, she has been wanting Syler's love and attention (physical and otherwise) for some time now and at this point, all of her fears have been shown as being unfounded and she finally has him accepting and returning her love, so she is eager to jump on the situation (and him). Not only that, but she has just spent the last month in pretty much a semi-coma like state where she was helpless. Now, she can actually do something and is restless after all of that inactivity. The burden of all her doubts and fears has been lifted and she feels much freer to act and take risks.

 

You know, that sounds kinda good, I may just leave the chapter somewhat as it is and have the intro of the next chapter explain that as it is. It already starts out in her perspective, so it wouldn't be too hard to slip that in.

[Travis]

Moving onward to the next chapter and the aftermath of all the fun in bed. This time, we get a rather detailed description of Bronwyn's perspective of things. I think it will help clarify her seemingly out of character change at the end of last chapter. At least, I hope it will.

 

Anyway, the first section with Syler and Bronwyn in bed is radically altered. The second section with them meeting up with the rest of their friends has a few additions and edits, but is more or less intact. I had a bit added with Lamastus apologizing to Syler for supporting killing Bronwyn back at Fazei, too.

 

Due to size constraints from the expanded first section and my desire to greatly expand the next part with Avenil squaring off against Syler, I split this chapter in two (again). I am not sure if I mentioned it, but I also decided to push back ALL of the civil war at the end of the novel to the second book where the Battle of Thattos will serve as the end of Part I. I also split this novel into three formal parts titled (in order): The Exiled One, The Kruish Lord, and The Gathering Storm. Each would be considered an Act if this were a play, and each cover the three main parts of this novel quite nicely. Anyway, no more boring explanation, onto the chapter.

 

Warning: There be boobies ahead! Nothing too graphic, but I figured a minor warning would be nice.

 

___________________

 

 

Chapter 26

 

• Tread carefully around the hospitality of the Krue. Though they stand firmly behind their pledges, the slightest offense can be sufficient for them to declare the sanctuary agreement breached.
   
  — Six Months in Subeleth, by Hragrath the Scholar

 

Lord Saekoris' Estate

Thwrud

Subeleth

October 4

 

As Bronwyn lay comfortably with her head on her husband's bare chest, she couldn't help but think how much the Spirits had blessed her. Just hours ago, she was standing at the gateway to Nornesu, the Land of the Ancestors. She was so close to death that she could almost hear the voices of her mother and father calling out to her. Despite that, Syler had refused to let her die. He had traveled to the spiritual realm and bargained with his gods for her very soul.

 

Somehow, in the depths of her heart, she had allowed the callousness and pessimism of a life spent apart and with little hope to consume her. For too long, she had expected only the worst and it had come to her with open arms. Loneliness had plagued her even before her parents died and the Haresu invaded. She had been frightened to leave her clan and be forced to march to Kubei with thousands of strangers. Her terror had only been compounded by the assignment of a husband for her by the invaders. Surely, one of the Sei brutes would simply ravage her and use her as nothing but a slave.

 

She had been horribly wrong about Syler, so why did she keep believing the worst? He was kind, understanding, gentle when he needed to be, and strong when he couldn't. She had been slowly falling for him when he stood up against Growald for her sake. At that moment, seeing him being pounded bloody and eventually emerging the victor, she knew that she loved him. Despite not exactly returning her feelings, the two of them grew closer and things were looking so good for them both.

 

Then the Shalktra came for her and all of her hopes had been crushed. For a time, she knew nothing but darkness, pain, suffering, and torment. Even when she had brief moments of refuge within Syler's dreams, there was always the nagging bit of doubt that he would never be able to accept her after what happened and for her weakness.

 

Yet again, she had been wrong about Syler, and she was somewhat ashamed for it. He didn't care what happened in that cell and loved her regardless. He cast aside her arguments and concerns one by one with the same drive that caused him to abandon reason and come after her, protect her, and challenge even his Elements. In the end, he loved her in spite of herself and refused to let her buckle.

 

When she could bear it no more, she broke down in his arms and wept for it all. Her foolishness at never daring to hope and for believing the self deception that had ensnared her was humiliating. For so long, she had been blinded to hope and buried under the weight of her birthright as a caetos kvastal. Slowly, bit by bit, Syler had managed to coax her out of her shell of over protectiveness and emotional numbness. The Shalktra had nearly beaten and raped her back into it, but before her spirit could be bound forever, Syler had reached in and pulled her out.

 

He held her close and let the shame, fear, and doubts flow from her as tears. Never before had she felt so ashamed, so foolish, and so vulnerable, yet he didn't judge her. He only held on and remained a strong bulwark for her to rest against. Eventually, they both fell asleep and, in his loving embrace, she had once again seen his dreams, though now she was conscious to make sense of them.

 

She didn't exactly tell him the complete truth about how she had seen his dreams. She had said that she wasn't sure how, but that was only partially correct. Among the old legends of her kind, it was told that a caetos kvastal was not just capable of receiving kvastati, but of sensing the dreams of others. It was said that when they were at the height of their power, they could sift through the anyone's dreams and discover anything they wanted to know about that person while they were asleep. Nobody could ever recall anyone being able to control such powers, but there were stories of women being able to do it sporadically and with mixed results.

 

He was just as afraid of losing her as she had been of losing him. His sleeping mind was just as exhausted as hers and was wracked with fears of her leaving him or rejecting his love. The last month had taken its toll on him emotionally and physically and she was his last hope. With her healed, he had not expected any resistance, but her attitude and actions had hurt him more than she would have thought. He was hanging by a thread but couldn't show it for her sake. Perhaps he himself didn't know how desperate he had become. The subconscious mind was prone to many wild fancies, but it also rarely lied. If anything, it tended to magnify fears and hopes in a way that the conscious mind would never be able to.

 

When she woke up, she was a different person. The years of self doubt had been lifted and she was no longer chained down. She was free and, even more, she knew that she was no longer alone. Syler had not been just speaking empty words when he told her he loved her, and now she could believe it. Her solitary suffering was now gone and she felt as light as a feather. Even more, she was free of the constraints that had made her too cautious, too expecting of rejection, and too unwilling to take a chance.

 

Though it had not yet been dawn, she couldn't wait any longer for him to wake up and decided to wake him herself. She wanted Syler and she now knew that Syler wanted her—she had seen enough of his dreams to know that much. He was too honorable and constrained to ever make any advances while he thought there was even the slightest chance that she wasn't fully willing. After her actions today, he had more than enough cause to doubt that she truly loved him. If he was not going to make a move on her then she would make a move on him.

 

The shocked and embarrassed look on his face when she jumped on top of him and began teasing him had been worth all of the suffering she had endured. He had been cautious at first, but as soon as she got him up on the bed and showed him that she was more than willing to have him, he quickly came around. The stress, pressure, and hardships of the last four months exploded into a passionate fire and they both let it consume them.

 

She now was resting comfortably and in peace after so long of yearning for it. She had not known that such joy and pleasure could be found until she was in his arms making love to him. More than just the sheer passion, she was content for the first time since her father had been killed and her mother threw herself upon his pyre in grief. On that dark day, she didn't think she would ever find happiness and peace, but she had been wrong.

 

"So, now what should we do?" Syler asked after he had recovered from their most recent bout. He was lying flat on his back while she was laying crosswise facing him with her head resting on his muscular chest. Dawn had come and gone unheeded during their passion and the sun was now hanging in the middle of the sky.

 

She merely lifted her head so she could see his face and smiled, "I don't care as long as we stay together."

 

"Bronwyn," he said with complete seriousness, "I wouldn't let the Elements themselves take you from me."

 

She knew that was as true a statement as had ever been uttered by man. She smiled and traced his jaw line through his beard. "I wouldn't mind staying here for a few more days, or maybe longer."

 

"I would like that," Syler said. His hand gently cupped her breast eliciting a sigh of contentment from her.

 

As much as she wanted to do what she suggested, she knew that they couldn't remain here forever. "We really shouldn't stay too much longer."

 

Syler fixed a playful frown on his face and said, "Why is that? Have I tired you out already?"

 

Though she was tired from all of their exertion, she would find the energy to keep going if it meant spending more time with him. Still, such a jab couldn't go unanswered, so she slapped his chest and was satisfied to hear a grunt from deep in his throat. "No, you," she said with a roll of her eyes. "It is that we are guests of the Krue and they can sometimes be very demanding hosts. I am surprised they haven't summoned us yet."

 

"Well, perhaps they heard what was going on in here and decided that it would be best not to interfere."

 

Bronwyn couldn't help but giggle at that. Even the thought of what would have happened had someone entered was enough to make her blush. She may have fully embraced the new physical side to their relationship, but she wasn't eager to expose that side of them to others. "Thank the Spirits they didn't," she said.

 

"That would have been quite interesting," he replied with a twinkle in his eye.

 

"It might have been enough for them to throw us out of here. The Krue tend to be quite reserved with these things."

 

Syler shrugged. "I doubt that they would throw us out over that. They seem to like me quite a bit for them to roll out the welcome rug for us."

 

If only he fully understood just how rare that was. "I don't know, Syler. There is something going on with them, you should be careful."

 

His brow furrowed in concern and his voice lowered a bit, "What do you mean? Do you think they mean us harm?"

 

"No, I don't think so," she assured him. "It is something about this whole Majiyae Oretezu thing. It means a lot to them. Krue lords do not give their hospitality lightly. They usually require a great service to be done for their people before granting it, especially for foreigners."

 

His eyes narrowed. "You seem to know a lot about the Krue."

 

"I know a little," she admitted. "My clan traded with them in the past, so I know a little of their ways."

 

"That is more than I know. Most of the dealings my village had with foreigners involved fighting off the Sua. We had some peace with the Koshi to the south, but sometimes there was tension and fighting with them too." He reached around her shoulders and held her tightly against him for a moment, then said, "But enough of this talk. I hope to go after Karusa as soon as Havert and Alltis arrive."

 

"What if the Krue won't let you? They seem to think you are someone important and I don't think they will simply let you leave."

 

Syler clenched his jaw in a look that told her that he wasn't going to budge from his position. "Let them try to stop me. They will have to kill me and I don't think they want to do that because it would ruin their precious prophecies."

 

"Just be careful, please. Prophecy is not something to be taken lightly. Neither are the Krue."

 

He relaxed his jaw and smiled at her, "Of course I will, but I will also go find my sister. If they want to watch over me while I do that, I would welcome some of their warriors, but I am going even if I have to search every town and village in Sua."

 

There was nothing Bronwyn could do to dissuade him even if she had wanted to. She only hoped that the Krue wouldn't try to stop him. She would go wherever he led, that much she knew. Deep down, she worried that their days of peace and stability were gone. Whether they ever came back was something she couldn't guess.

 

As though he could read the discomfort on her mind, Syler smiled and tousled her hair causing it to get all in her face. "Stop that!" she cried out, though she couldn't quite be angry with him.

 

"Make me," he said teasingly and she was more than willing to do so.

 

They fought briefly as she struggled to gain control of his hands. Finally, she was on top of him and had both of his hands pinned above his head. She couldn't help but return the smile that he was giving her and, elated by his continued playful mood, leaned down to kiss him. She released his captive hands so she could run her fingers through his beard. His arms came down and he pulled her down fully on top of him and held her tightly. He stroked her back, but quickly started working his way down lower.

 

Then, an intruder dared to encroach upon their blissful sphere of happiness. There was a knock at the door that cut any further action short. With a moan of frustration, Syler broke their kiss and said, "What?"

 

There was a pause, then a female voice said, "Your companions have arrived."

 

If anything had to interrupt their activities, that was perhaps the most tolerable reason. As much as they wanted to be with each other, they both wanted to see their friends and let them know that everything was alright. With only a few sighs of disappointment, the two of them disentangled themselves from each other and scrambled for their clothes.

 

 

 

Once they were dressed, they left the room and were summarily escorted out of the estate by two servants. Outside, they were met by a rather large Kruish warrior with striking red war paint splattered over his face with only the outline of a hand left bare as though someone placed their hand in the center of his face while splattering the paint on it. Though, after a second look, Syler hoped it was just red paint and not something else. One could never really tell with the Krue.

 

"I am Delmonor Grelad," he said in a thick accent. "Follow me to where your companions are being held."

 

Syler's eyes narrowed in suspicion and his hand came to rest on his sword. "'Held?' Are they prisoners?"

 

Delmonor bowed his head, "Forgive me, I misspoke. Your tongue is difficult to remember. They are waiting for you to arrive."

 

His suspicions assuaged for now, Syler accepted the explanation and gestured to him to lead the way. The towering warrior took them through the streets to the edge of the city where Growald, his men, and their friends were currently surrounded by a few dozen Kruish warriors mounted on hasuan. The horses of their companions were oddly out of place against the larger and more majestic hasuan of the Krue.

Syler saw a familiar mop of messy red hair and called out, "Havert!" as he ran to greet his friend. He had forgiven Havert of all of their differences while they had been fleeing from the Shalktra and hoped he would get the time to amend their friendship now.

 

Havert turned around just in time to brace for Syler's fierce hug. "Whoa—" he said before the air was squeezed out of his lungs.

 

"Syler," Lamastus said as he slapped Syler's back. "It is good to see you, but what about Bron. . ."

 

Syler let go of Havert in time to see the Angvardi staring with his mouth hanging open at the fully healed Bronwyn standing shyly behind her husband. Syler laughed, wrapped his arm around her waist, and said, "She is better now, as you can see."

 

"The Krue healed her?" Alltis asked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Bronwyn.

 

"Not exactly, but it is a long story. All you need to know is that she is fully recovered." Syler didn't feel like going into everything at this point, especially not near Growald and his men. "Guardian" or not, he didn't trust the man.

 

"It is good to see you back on your feet," Alltis said as she wrapped Bronwyn up in a warm hug. The two women had never been especially close before they were forced to leave Kubei, but on their journey, Alltis had taken care of some of Bronwyn's more intimate needs. She often helped comfort Syler on those dark nights when all seemed hopeless and had grown to care about the two of them. When the embrace was over, she added, "We were really worried about you. I am so happy that you are back on your feet."

 

Bronwyn's blush only deepened but she said, "Thank you, I have a few memories of that time, enough to know you were truly kind to me. I won't forget that."

 

Havert had apparently recovered from Syler's hug because he managed to get out a few words. "Good ta see ya too, go easy on me please."

 

"I am just glad to see you," replied Syler with a giant smile on his face.

 

"I see you figured everything out," a familiar, gruff voice said.

 

Syler turned to see Growald looking at the five of them with a smug, self satisfied smirk on his face. "I told you that coming here would be the only way to cure the girl," Growald said.

 

"Yes," replied Syler, "but it wasn't how you think it was. You had no idea what I had to do to get her."

 

The other man crossed his burly arms across his chest and said with bemusement and sarcasm thick on his voice, "Truly? You mean that you didn't figure out that not only do you have the ability to repulse magical spells used against you, but also to purge them in others? Or were you referring to your ability to reverse the effect of spells with which you were able to heal the Kutii? You can see them to deconstruct them from within and thus control the spell itself enough to remove them from their targets, right?"

 

Syler's jaw dropped a little and his face reddened. "You knew! The whole time, you knew that I could have helped her from the start?"

 

With a smirk, Growald said, "Of course I knew, that is part of my job, boy."

 

"Then why didn't you tell me!" shouted Syler as he balled his fists in preparation for another fight.

 

"Because I was forbidden to do so," he replied frankly with a nonchalant shrug. "We all have orders to follow and I was following mine."

 

Syler gaped at the man as he struggled not to charge over and hit him. Bronwyn reached over and took hold of his arm. "Syler, fighting won't do any good here."

 

He nodded and took a deep breath and addressed Growald in a level voice, "Who gave you these 'orders?'"

 

"Individuals far more powerful than even you are," snapped Growald. "And, might I add, they are infinitely more intimidating than you, too."

 

Only Bronwyn's grasp on him kept Syler from leaping for Growald's throat. He didn't know what it was about this man that enraged him so, but he was tired of dealing with him. "So you knew all along who I was and what I could do?"

 

The smug look returned to his face. "Yes, from the first time I met you in Kubei, I knew exactly who you were. It was pretty obvious ta me, but you needed to be eased into things. That is why I goaded you into that little fight of ours, see?"

 

With a frown, Syler said, "No, I don't."

 

Growald rolled his eyes and said, "Don't you remember what happened to you when you were nearly beaten? You found a second wind, a new source of energy that gave you strength and power while healing you in the process."

 

"You knew about that?"

 

"Of course, that is why I didn't just knock you out in the first ten seconds like I could have. You had to learn, you had to discover it on your own. Miss Vekla there knows what I am talking about, don't you dearie?"

 

Syler hadn't seen the sorceress approach, but when he looked back, she was standing a few yards behind him listening in on the conversation with interest. She was currently staring daggers at Growald, but she did nod in affirmation. "We call it the kasor eka vaeltinin, the fury for another. Prophecy says that should you be fighting to protect another whom you believe is innocent, you have the ability to call upon a holy strength fueled by your righteous fury. It heals your body and gives you great stamina and strength, but it comes at a cost. When your last foe is defeated, the strength leaves you and you are left weak and drained. It could leave you merely exhausted or it could cause you to black out. The more you learn to use and control it, the less drained you will be after."

 

"Do you know anyone who can do something like this?"

 

She nodded. "There are those of our gifted can get into such furies, but the ones who can are few in number."

 

Syler thought back to his fight with Growald and a lot of things made sense. He supposed that was the odd red and white haze that clouded his vision. It didn't make much sense to him at the time, but then, he had never been experienced with magic and had no idea what those who did felt or saw as they cast spells.

 

"Does it heal me as well?" he asked.

 

Vekla cocked her head sideways and narrowed her eyes. "Not that I have knowledge of. It gives strength and endurance, but it does not possess healing magics."

 

One of Syler's eyebrows perked up. "Well, if what I was using against Growald was this spell of yours, then it left me completely healed after I woke up. Not a scratch on my body."

 

"I have heard of no such thing," the sorceress admitted. "But then, you are the Majiyae Oretezu so it is possible that you can do things others cannot."

 

"Growald, do you know anything about this?" Syler shot him a dirty look and added, "Now is not the time to be concealing things. If you know something, tell me."

 

Growald allowed his arms to flap against his sides in a full body shrug. "Nope, I don't know a thing about healing. I knew you could get yerself into a tizzy, but that it could heal you is news to me."

 

After glaring at the Seinari for a few seconds, Syler decided that he was telling the truth and sighed. Despite answering several questions he had been harboring, this information gave rise to new ones that Syler wasn't happy to have. "So," he asked Growald, "if you knew who I was, why did you do that? What was the point of beating me near to death and insulting Bronwyn in front of our friends? Why couldn't you just tell me like Vekla did?"

 

Never one to pass up the opportunity for a good smirk, Growald threw a truly mocking one Syler's way. "Because, boy, it wasn't my purpose. I am here to guard you and make sure you don't get yourself killed, not to explain everything to you. I took some liberties in doing what I did back in Kubei, but I dare say it was worth it. Wouldn't you, girl?"

 

The last part was directed to Bronwyn, but she only blinked and said, "I don't know what you are talking about. What you did to him was cruel and unnecessary. He could have been seriously injured and would have had it not been for the miraculous healing."

 

Growald waved away her arguments. "I will spell it out for ya," he replied. "If I hadn't shown him what he could do, he wouldn't have been able to save your life. Sometimes, ya need to make a total plunge into the unknown without knowing where it would lead you. If you know it can be done, you lose the courage and some of the strength that men facing impossible odds seem to get. Do you follow me there, boy?"

 

Syler considered the man's words as calmly as he could. It was true, had he now known that by giving into the red fury that he would eventually touch upon some form of power and strength, he might not have been able to gather the strength needed to summon Suella. He had been desperate, at his last straw with no hope and nothing to lose. If he had a plan that he thought could work, he might not have been able to throw his caution into the wind and take the sort of risks that he had while treating with the Elements.

 

As he thought about it more, it almost made sense in a perverted sort of way that in fighting against Growald, he had learned something that had allowed him to save his beloved's life. The man's methods were harsh, perhaps even cruel, but they had worked. He still wasn't happy in giving the brute credit, but he did manage to say, "You could have just told me afterwards what you had done."

 

Growald crackled in amusement. "Where is the fun in that? 'Sides, it wouldn't have done you any good until you came into your other powers and had proof that even a stubborn guy like you couldn't ignore. And, ask yourself this: would you ha' believed me if I told you that you were some sort of hero destined to either save or destroy this world?"

 

"No," admitted Syler reluctantly. "I wouldn't have. I would have probably tried to beat your face in."

 

"See there? Ole Growald knew what he was doing."

 

"Don't push it. I still don't like you one bit."

 

"That just breaks me heart," said Growald though he didn't seem to devastated about it as he walked back toward his other men.

 

With the burly and crude soldier gone, the mood in their group lightened considerably. Havert and Alltis began peppering Syler and Bronwyn with questions about what had had happened. Despite her shyness at all the attention being directed toward her, Bronwyn seemed proud to point out all that her husband had done for her. The others didn't seem to believe it, but the presence of a Kruish sorceress who was listening and not disputing what was said lent a great deal of weight to her words.

 

After fifteen minutes of catching up, Bronwyn took Alltis aside and was saying something that she clearly meant to be private. That left Syler, Lamastus, Havert, and Vekla to their own, though the sorceress had by this time slowly taken several steps back and seemed absorbed in her own thoughts.

 

"Syler," Lamastus said with a gulp, "there is something I think I need to say to you and Havert."

 

"What is it?" replied Syler with curiosity.

 

"Back at Fazei, well, I know I was in favor of you putting Bronwyn out of her misery. I wanted to apologize for what I said. I was wrong and shouldn't have tried to interfere, and I shouldn't have quarreled with Havert."

 

While Syler understood what his friend was doing, he wasn't going to let him take all the blame. "Don't apologize. Remember, it was I who was the one holding the knife." He pointed over to Havert. "He is the one who stopped me and saved Bronwyn's life." He clasped his best friend's forearms and said in a low, serious voice. "For that, I owe you a great deal. Even in my darkest moment, you were there to help me with the voice of wisdom. Without your courage in standing up to me, I would have lost the most precious thing to me. If there is ever anything I can do for you, just ask and I will do it."

 

Havert's normally ruddy complexion turned even more red. "Aww, ya don't owe me nothin'. I did what ya woulda done for me were the situation changed."

 

Syler wasn't going to let him get away so easily, "No, I owe you and mark my words, I will repay that debt one day when you need it."

 

Lamastus tapped Syler on the shoulder and said hesitantly, "Uh, Syler, you haven't done anything to offend them here, have you?"

 

"No, the clan lord personally granted us all his protection and has been treating Bronwyn and I quite well. We even stayed the night in his own estate."

 

"Okay, that is good." Clearly, Lamastus was worried about something, because his hand strayed to his sword.

 

Syler looked around to see what it was that was getting him so nervous and quickly found the source. A small company of heavily armed and armored warriors was marching down the street toward the corral they were currently in. "Hang on," he said, "let me figure out what is going on."

 

He walked over to Vekla, but before he could say anything, she cut him off and said, "It is time, Syler Penion of Sandrin."

 

"Time for what?" asked Alltis. She and Bronwyn had noticed the commotion and had followed him to investigate.

 

Syler shrugged, "Apparently, I have to undergo some sort of confirmation ceremony or something that the clan lord feels is necessary."

 

"It is," shot Vekla. "It has been written for centuries and so it must come to pass."

 

"What if it doesn't?" Syler asked. He didn't mean to be belligerent, but he was curious. "I mean, it might be in prophecy, but what if I refuse to undergo it? Does that suddenly make the prophecy false?"

 

She looked at him with an expression so fierce that he took a step back. "No, it means that you are not the Majiyae Oretezu. That means you have come to us under false pretenses and therefore, your dolothmorin would be considered broken and we will treat you as we do all invaders into our territory."

 

Syler gulped at the thought. He had forgotten just how brutal the Krue could be after the quite hospitable treatment he had received from them. "That is a very good point. Sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you, I was just curious."

 

The sorceress's expression didn't change. She turned around abruptly and started toward the dozens of newly arriving warriors. Syler didn't need to be told that she was expecting him to follow her.

From beside him, Bronwyn said softly but firmly, "Syler, I think now would be a good time to be quiet."

 

Having learned that she was usually right in these things, he shut his mouth and followed the Krue.

[DarthBrendo]

That section feels much more like Bronwyn. Nothing to point out in this chapter though. Flowed well, no issues I spotted.

[Travis]

Order up!

 

Next chapter is here, and this one has been expanded since being split off from the previous one. I went into far more detail in just about everything here to help it make more sense to me. After reflection, I was never quite happy with how Avenil Saekoris, a renown swordsman (as shown by the skills he imbued into Syler's first set of armor), would not go to battle with a blade. Therefore, I decided to give him and Syler one (since Syler had been carrying a sword ever since the Temple at Kubei). I also wanted to give a little time between the end of this battle and him setting out for Karusa, so I came up with a clever little plot gimmick to grant me that (I won't spoil it). I also managed to give Vekla a good deal more emotion and explain more of what exactly was going on here. I think you will like it, so read on, good sir.

 

 

_____________

 

 

Chapter 27

 

• Our ways are sometimes called harsh or brutal by outsiders. We would disagree. Our ways are necessary to remain strong and to ensure that we remain true to our purpose.
   
  — Lord Avenil Saekoris of Clan Thwrud

 

Thwrud

Subeleth

October 4

 

With Vekla and Delmonor leading the way, the rest of them followed silently. Syler would have liked a chance to better catch up with his friends, but after seeing the somber look on Vekla's face, he didn't dare ask for more time. Whatever this ceremony entailed, they took it extremely seriously. Now that he was surrounded by four dozen warriors, he wasn't going anywhere they didn't want him to go.

 

They were marched across the city. People stood along both sides of the street in silence to watch them go by, something that Syler found quite disturbing. He didn't think it had anything to do with the soldiers as those were commonplace. That meant that they had all stopped what they were doing right before dinner time just to see him and his friends go to whatever ritual the Krue had planned.

 

After twenty minutes, they finally arrived at their destination. Syler wasn't sure what it was at first because he had never seen such a thing, but he had heard of it. They were at the edge of a large arena made of wood with stands reaching thirty or more feet high. Row after row of planks had been laid out so people could sit and watch what was happening within the large flattened area.

 

From what he could see of the fields themselves, they were dirt covered with a healthy layer of wood shavings spread out to prevent it from getting too muddy. Set at each end of the oval field was a small wooden stand surrounded by multiple torches. He was struck by the standards that were placed behind the stands and fluttering in the slight wind. One was made of intermingled blue and red squares on a silver background. The other, the one that was closer to their side of the field, was a fairly crude but clear representation of the crest of the Kingdom of the Sei, a black raven flying over fields of grain with a spear in its claws. Someone was standing on the stand on the far side of the field under the red and blue standard, though he couldn't make out who it was.

 

There were thousands of people in the stands sitting in almost absolute silence. It was eerie to see so many people in one place without any of the common noises that accompanied such crowds at other times. Syler was getting more and more uncomfortable with each step because he was not sure what they were hoping to see and he knew he was going to be the central part of it.

 

Syler surreptitiously poked Bronwyn trying to get her attention and hoping she had a clue what was going on. She understood his unspoken question and shook her head slowly. None of the Krue were of any help, so Syler was forced to continue onward without an explanation of what was expected of him.

 

They entered a small tunnel that went under the stands and was guarded by yet more warriors. "Nubwet ka Majiyae Oretezu butheur sarbwekheith."

 

There was a sudden rustle of leather and clanking of metal as the guards moved to physically block Syler's friends with either their bodies or weapons. Gloved hands grabbed weapons from Lamastus and Havert before they could even begin to protest. A massive warrior took each of Syler's arms and began guiding him forward into the tunnel.

 

"What is going on?" demanded Syler, though Vekla and the others ignored him.

 

Bronwyn somehow managed to push her way past the guards and, with fear and determination in her voice, cried out, "Kae vsu granegas aliora! Thos ka shenethasi sek Asporeatinti, ja fos bwet reisene mel khadordos thequel graneth!"

 

This gave Vekla pause, but she didn't stop completely until one of the other warriors stretched out his arm in front of her and the others. She glared at him and said something cutting that Syler didn't make out. That in turn started a brief argument between the two of them and a few other warriors who were close enough to hear. The disagreement was enough to halt the entire procession.

 

"What did you tell her?" asked Syler.

 

Bronwyn grabbed him and held on for dear life. She spoke near his ear so she couldn't be overheard. "I told them that I was your wife and that by the laws of the Spirits, I had the right to stand by you. This is a judgment, Syler, a trial, and I don't know what for."

 

Syler pushed back a little and looked into her green eyes. "A trial? Are you sure?"

 

She nodded, "Yes, it is much larger and more grand than what we did, but this is how my people conduct public trials. The banner on the far side is that of this clan, the Thwrudil, and the other is of your people."

"Ritual be damned," said Lamastus angrily, "they are going to kill you."

 

"But why?" asked Alltis.

 

With a hard look on his face, Syler replied through gritted teeth, "I don't know."

 

Delmonor emerged from the circle of warriors guarding them and said, "You made claim to be Majiyae Oretezu, now you prove claim."

 

"I never said anything of the sort," cried Syler indignantly. "You are the ones who said that, not I."

 

The warrior shrugged and replied, "It is how it is done. You showed powers, you must finish prophecy. You cannot change what must be. Neith fos, fos."

 

Remembering Vekla's threat back at the corral, Syler gulped and held up his hand to stop his friend's outcries. "Hey!" he cried out loud enough to cut through the argument in front of him. "Enough of that. If you want me to go out there, then so be it. Let me go out and face this 'trial' of yours."

 

"Syler," pleaded Bronwyn as she clutched his arm.

 

"No, I got us into this by agreeing to go with Growald, this is my mess. I will face it and do so alone. Whatever happens in there, I don't want you tangled up in it." He smiled and wiped a tear off of his wife's face. "I went through a lot to give you your life back, I don't want you to throw it away for my sake. If I am to perish here, then I hope they will allow the rest of you to leave in peace."

 

"Don't do this, I want to go with you," she urged.

 

He smiled sadly and brought up her hand to his mouth so he could give it a kiss. "I am sorry." He looked at Vekla and said, "I will go, but she stays."

 

The sorceress nodded and gave a few orders to the warriors. They closed ranks and grabbed hold of Bronwyn to make sure she didn't follow. She cried out his name and struggled, but Syler only gritted his teeth and followed Vekla into the tunnel.

 

When he emerged at the other side, he was within the arena. Delmonor, with a look of sympathy and regret on his red speckled face, confirmed Syler's fears of what type of trial was before him a Kruish brigandine made of black leather. "Put this on. It will help you."

 

The armor only covered his torso, but it was better than nothing. Syler was familiar enough with armor that he didn't need much help with anything except the back straps. The armor was lighter than he expected it to be, though he was more used to the heavier mail hauberks when he was drilling for the militia in Sandrin. The Kruish armor offered an excellent range of motion and was far more comfortable than any other armor he had worn.

 

Once he had managed to put the armor on, Vekla gestured with a jerk of her chin for him to go out to the platform waiting for him. He tried to conceal his nervousness as the crowds grew even more silent than before. Ignoring the thousands of sets of eyes that were following his every move was difficult, but the armor concealed the sweat that was forming beneath his shirt.

 

When he got up to the platform, he was able to see who it was that was standing opposite of him. Lord Saekoris stood straight and tall, not taking his eyes off of Syler. He too was dressed in leather armor, though he had a helmet. When Syler got within ten paces, he motioned for him to stop and addressed the crowd in Kruish. After he gave a small speech, he looked at Syler and asked, "Have you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, come to lay claim to the title of Majiyae Oretezu?"

 

Though he really hadn't, Syler knew that if he tried to back out now, he wouldn't make it back to the tunnel entrance alive. If these Krue thought he was some sort of special savior, then that was their choice. He had to admit, he had seen and done a few spectacular things in the last month, but he wasn't going to say he was some sort of hero. There wasn't much of a choice in this matter, so he had to play along. "Yes, I do."

 

Saekoris' voice rose as he addressed the crowds, "Gran zathin ja!" In response, the entire crowd stomped a single foot on the wooden planks they were standing on. For a few moments, the entire arena echoed with a resounding boom. There were no cheers or any other sounds from the audience, so the arena quickly returned to silence.

 

Saekoris said something in Kruish, then asked, "Do you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, come to lay claim to the rights and privileges of Majiyae Oretezu?"

 

Not knowing what else he could do, Syler nodded and replied, "Yes, I do."

 

"Gran zathin ja!" Again, the crowed stomped against the wood planks, though this time it they did it twice.

 

After another line of Kruish, Lord Saekoris fixed Syler with a solemn stare and asked, "Will you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, defend your claim to Majiyae Oretezu?"

 

With a sour taste in his mouth, Syler answered once more. "Yes, I will."

 

"Gran othraga bakhoskakin ja!" Predictably, the crowd stomped three times at this pronouncement.

 

Saekoris said a few more things in Kruish, but it appeared that the questioning part of this trial was over because he took his attention off of Syler and was addressing the crowd of his people. While he stood there, Syler's stomach began to roil in nervousness at whatever he was about to face. Clearly, the Krue were expecting him to defend his "claim" through combat. He had fought before, but he was no warrior and didn't think he stood a chance against the legendary Kruish warriors. Even without their hasuan, they looked fierce enough.

 

"And so we come to it at last," Saekoris said in the Common Tongue. There was regret plain on his voice, but his face was etched with determination and resolve.

 

"Come to what?" asked Syler, fearing the answer.

 

"If you are truly the Majiyae Oretezu, you must defeat me in combat."

 

"You?" Syler said as his eyes grew wide. He had expected some sort of fight, but not with the clan's lord himself.

 

Saekoris nodded once and drew his sword. "Yes, to confirm who you truly are, you must kill me in fair combat."

 

"Wait, kill you? You are the lord of this clan, why would you endanger yourself in combat?"

 

"It is my purpose as the Ulaen Fequilbat to test any who claim to be ka Majiyae Oretezu. Make no mistake, I will do my best to kill you because, should I not try my best and am slain by one who is not the Majiyae Oretezu, then I would have doomed my people to destruction." Syler didn't detect any regret in the old man's voice.

 

"So you want me to kill you just so I can prove that I am some sort of savior for your people? That makes no sense!"

 

"It makes perfect sense, Syler Penion of Sandrin. The strong must lead and to do that, they must replace the old and weak. If you are able to kill me, then you have proven that you are stronger than I. You would have shown that you are indeed the Majiyae Oretezu. It has been written and it must be this way. I have no more choice in the matter than you do."

 

Syler shook his head, "No, I am not going to kill you simply because of some old books."

 

"You must defend your claim and engage in combat with me. Only one may walk away from such combat. As the Ulaen Fequilbat, I hold the judgment over who is worthy to be the Majiyae Oretezu and who is merely a pretender. Do not think you are the first to come to the attention of the Krue who has claimed and even shown signs of being ka Majiyae Oretezu. As I am doing now, the Ulaen Fequilbati who came before me fought the claimants. Each time they killed the challenger, just as I will do to you should you not be ka jhatt—the true—Majiyae Oretezu."

 

"And if I refuse to kill you or play part of this sick game?" asked Syler cautiously.

 

"Then I must force your hand," he replied sadly. He lifted one arm to direct Syler's attention behind him.

 

When Syler turned, he saw that Bronwyn had been forced to her knees with her hands behind her back. Vekla had a knife at her throat and stood watching the two men in the arena. Other Krue warriors had the rest of his friends in the same position. There were tears streaming down Bronwyn's terrified face. Havert and Lamastus looked furious while Alltis looked unnaturally calm at the prospect of having a knife at her throat. Puzzled at her reaction, Syler looked at her for a few moments until he noticed that her lip was trembling in fear.

 

"I am sorry, Syler Penion of Sandrin, but if you do not defend your claim to the best of your abilities, they will die."

 

"And if I fail and am killed?" asked Syler. "What will happen to them?"

 

"I bear you no ill will, Syler Penion of Sandrin. I do not believe you have come here with deceit in your heart. Fate has placed us both in this situation. Should you give this your entire effort and fail, I will spare your woman and those who came with you. They will be returned to our borders and let loose."

 

Syler gave Kruish lord a look of abject loathing. He knew without a doubt that he was serious and that if he didn't give this his all, they would all die. He really didn't want to kill this man, but if they were going to threaten his wife and friends, then he had no choice but to comply. Right now, there was a hatred rising in his veins for this man who would force him to kill simply for prophecy when he had no quarrel with any of them. Test or not, Syler thought this whole thing was a great waste.

 

"Very well," he said through clenched teeth as he drew his own sword.

 

"Ja nagatso!" Saekoris shouted for all to hear as he leapt off of his platform and ran straight for Syler with his sword in hand.

 

Syler jumped off of his own platform and took a few steps forward, but didn't rush out to meet his opponent so quickly. Standing at the ready with his sword in hand, he braced himself for the onslaught. He didn't have to wait for long.

 

Saekoris swung his sword at Syler's head in a simple but powerful attack that Syler was barely able to block without being pushed back. For being an older man, the Kruish lord was surprisingly strong and quick. The next attack was aimed at his midsection and Syler only just got his sword up in time to avoid having his innards spilt all over the arena floor.

 

Without emotion on his hard face, Saekoris lashed out in a series of quick blows that forced Syler to retreat until his back was against the rail of the platform he had been standing on just moments before. Clearly, despite his age, Lord Saekoris was a far better swordsman than Syler was, so he needed to do something quick to change the situation or he was a dead man.

 

When the sword came at him next, Syler took a gamble and caught the blade on his guard. With all of his strength, he shoved Saekoris' weapon out to the right while he twisted forward and smashed Saekoris' face with his left elbow. He didn't pause there, but tried to tangle his opponent's legs with his left leg and bring him down. The older man was quick and experienced enough to take a step back and avoid the attempt while lashing out at Syler's midsection with his free hand and landing a blow that was painful even through the armor.

 

While Syler recovered, Saekoris freed up his sword and slashed at him. Syler caught the blade with his own and drove it down into the wood shavings and dirt with as much force as he could muster. A blindingly hot line of pain etched itself across his unprotected shin and calf as he did from where Saekoris' blade sliced skin and muscle. Ignoring the burning agony, Syler stomped on the flat of his opponent's blade and snapped it out of Saekoris' hands.

 

Without missing a beat, Saekoris whirled and kicked Syler's sword free and sent it flying off to the side. He tried to drive Syler back to reclaim his own weapon, but in this case, Syler's larger size gave him an advantage and he was repulsed. Syler tried to get the blade that had fallen in front of him, but Saekoris had another tactic in mind.

 

There was no warning for what came next. Saekoris took a step back and then hurled a deep purple lightning bolt a Syler's chest.

 

Syler flinched but didn't have time to get away from it, though he needn't bother. The bolt landed squarely in his chest but just vanished as though it was nothing but an illusion. He started to take a few steps back himself to get a little distance between himself and his attacker. The surprise of finding out that Lord Saekoris was a wielder of magic momentarily confused Syler and left him wondering how to deal with this situation.

 

While Syler might have been confused, Saekoris was not. He followed his first strike with fire that streamed from his hands and covered Syler. As it was when Vekla tried to burn Lamastus, the flames had no effect upon him, not even to the point of giving him warmth. It did, however, keep him from seeing the next attack and it did a fair job in melting the sword that had been laying a few feet in front of him.

Dirt and leaves hurled past him as Saekoris summoned powerful winds. Syler could feel the leaves brushing against him, but he couldn't feel any of the wind driving them. It was the strangest sensation to have things blown in his face but not be able to feel the wind itself. Syler used his arms to block the incoming debris as he struggled to figure out what to do next.

 

Saekoris next tried some sort of spell that glowed green, but failed to find a purchase on his target. When that spell was over, he switched to a bright ball of pure energy that coalesced in his palms for a few seconds before being hurled at him. Syler saw that one coming and dodged the attack. The orb flew past him and dissipated against an invisible shield surrounding the arena that Syler had not known was there.

The fight was going nowhere fast as Saekoris continued to pummel Syler with spells that caused him no harm. The ground was scorched around him, but not a hair on his head had been burned by any of the great amounts of energy being hurled at him. After a few minutes of this, Syler was genuinely confused as how to progress. Saekoris clearly couldn't hurt him with his spells, but he had no idea how to use spells of his own to counter.

 

The Kruish lord had pulled out a long knife and kept it at the ready. Syler knew that he stood no chance against Saekoris when it came to matching blades. Worse, his left leg was wounded and would put him at a great disadvantage in any close combat. Saekoris had to know that, yet he stayed back and continued to launch attacks with magic.

 

Saekoris realized what was going through Syler's mind because, between bouts of lightning, he said, "Focus on my spells. Feel their magic as it is turned upon you. If you truly are the Majiyae Oretezu, you will be able to turn them against me."

 

Syler groaned at the flash of revelation that struck him. Saekoris knew that his attacks were futile, but he was willing to launch them regardless. Clearly, the old man believed so much in this prophecy bit that he was willing to give Syler a chance to prove that he was the Majiyae Oretezu by launching futile attacks even if it meant his own death. Just like when Growald goaded him into a fight back at Alltis' parents' house, Lord Saekoris was trying to teach him something.

 

Syler had to endure two more fireballs and a burst of some sort of odd energy that surrounded him wherever he moved before he could figure out what his opponent had said. He couldn't use spells himself because he didn't know how, but he did know how to take them within himself without harm and mold them to his will. That was how he had saved Bronwyn. He had taken the curse that was leaving her in pain and unable to heal, then turned it inside out to heal the very wounds that it had caused and sustained. Having that knowledge was good, but Syler had no idea how to implement it.

 

Syler was forced to close his eyes as a particularly bright flash of energy enveloped him, and that was when he saw it. It was a brief flash at first, probably more of a memory than anything he actually saw, but it was enough. Once he was not relying on his sense of vision to guide him, he was able to use his mind to see. His mind, for the briefest of moments, saw the spell as something more than just energy. It was a chain of odd looking energy and perhaps glyphs leading from him back to its caster.

 

Syler kept his eyes closed and focused on the part of him that had helped cure Bronwyn. When Saekoris' next spell hit, he saw the string of magic once again connecting between the two of them. Two more spells later, and he had a new idea. The next spell that Saekoris used was a fireball. Syler let it hit him and instead of simply observing the spell's trail, he took hold of it mentally. It took just a split second, but in that briefest of times, he took control of the spell itself from Saekoris and directed it.

 

Syler didn't know what to do with the spell now that he controlled it, so the flames merely shot up into the sky where it impacted the shield that was around them. He opened his eyes in surprise and saw that his opponent had paused his attacks. There was a small smile in the corner of the man's mouth and a look of satisfaction on his face. Lord Saekoris knew what he was doing, and yet, he was going to continue onward even to his own death. Saekoris pulled his hands back and prepared another spell to send at his opponent.

 

When it came, Syler was ready for it. As the lightning bolt arched between the two of them and impacted his shoulder, he took control of it. Saekoris cut off the spell from his end, but it was too late. Sparks flickered around Syler's hands as he formed his own spell. Just as he had seen numerous mages do, he pushed his hands forward as though he was going to hit a man with the heel of his palm and released the spell he had captured.

 

A bolt of lightning shot from his palm and hit Lord Saekoris in the chest. He didn't even have a chance to cry out in pain before his armor flash burned away and his chest all but exploded from the energy and heat. His body wasn't quite cut in two, but it was still a gruesome sight as it hit the ground.

 

There was silence in the arena and nobody reacted.

 

Syler turned to look at the Krue who were holding Bronwyn and the others captive with anger clear on his face. He hadn't wanted to kill Lord Saekoris, but he had no choice. His anger was directed at both the old man and all of these Krue who had it in their heads that one of the two of them had to die for their crazy prophecy.

 

Vekla released his wife and sheathed her knife and the others quickly followed suit. Bronwyn started to rush toward Syler, but the warriors stopped her.

 

With her head held high, Velka marched into the arena and stopped just in front of Syler. She looked briefly at the body of Lord Saekoris as it lay still smoldering, then at Syler. Her face was a barely controlled visage of emotion that could be disbelief, rage, incredulity, or a mixture of all three. To his surprise, she went down on a single knee and bowed her head. She clasped her right fist over her heart and said, "I, Vekla Saekoris, pledge myself to you, Syler Penion of Sandrin, Majiyae Oretezu, Lord of Clan Thwrud. I will follow your commands and will serve and protect you until my death or your honorable succession."

 

When she finished, she stood up and shouted to the crowd, "Bwosar palquezen Ley Syler Penion se Sandrin, Inthaley se Inthal Thwrud!"

 

Syler didn't know what to say, he was in shock. Around him, thousands of Krue fell to their knees slammed their fists over their heart. Something about this wasn't right, not right at all. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he had a sinking feeling that he had just stepped into something that he didn't want any part of.

 

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

 

Vekla back to him and blinked in confusion. "I am pledging my loyalty to you as our rightful lord."

 

"Why? I am not your lord or anything. I am not even Krue."

 

She looked stricken and glanced around her at the kneeling Krue. "You defeated Lord Saekoris in honorable combat and have taken his place as lord of Clan Thwrud. I and everyone in this clan are yours to command."

 

It was what he had feared. Syler threw up his hands and said, "No, I don't want any of this, I just want to live in peace."

 

"You are our lord, you are to lead us in the upcoming war."

 

Syler shook his head, "No, I am going to find my sister and then she and my friends will go away to live in peace away from the Angvardi and the Shalktra and anyone else who wants to fight and kill each other. I am done with the Easterners and fighting and killing."

 

Vekla didn't seem to know what to say, so she bowed her head and stared at the ground. "As you wish," she muttered.

 

"No, it is not 'as I wish.' I didn't want this nor did I want to kill a man who clearly had no true intention of surviving against me. It was suicide, plain and simple because he refused to fight me blade to blade and couldn't touch me with his magic."

 

The others, now that their captors were bowing in submission, were free to rush out onto the field. Syler accepted Bronwyn's embrace, though he couldn't force himself to return it due to his anger. He quickly disentangled himself and walked over to where Lord Saekoris' body lay. Smoke was still curling up from his incinerated flesh making Syler sick to his stomach with its smell.

 

He looked up at the gathered Krue and started yelling for all of them to hear. "Is this what you wanted!" He pointed at the body at his feet. He didn't care if they could understand him or not, he was angry and wanted to make it known. Some of them would know the Common Tongue at least. "Was it really necessary for this man to die? I had no quarrel with him nor he with me. This was pointless, a complete waste of life. You want to live by prophecy and see innocent men die, then fine, but leave me out of it. I am done, finished. I won't have any more a part of this."

 

"That…wasss…not…part…of our deal, Sssyler," a haunting voice said into his ear. Syler jumped, but when he turned, there was nobody there. He looked back to where Vekla had been, but she was gone. For a few seconds, the world rippled as though it were nothing but a mirage. When it settled, the arena had vanished, as had his friends. Syler saw the Element Crusos standing in front of him giving him a cunning smile full of malice. At his feet, a battered and bruised Bronwyn lay naked and covered in blood.

 

"We made a deal, Sssyler Penion, and I expect you to carry it out," the Element hissed.

 

"What part of that deal involved killing honorable men like Lord Saekoris?" Syler shot back.

 

"The part where you sssaid you would accept your destiny in return for your wife and sssister." Crusos looked dispassionately down at the body at his pale, disgusting feet. "I spared her sssoul in return for your ssservice to the Elementsss. It cost me a great deal to do thisss and I intend to get my value'sss worth from you."

 

"You leave her out of this, it is between you and I."

 

"That isss not what was recorded in the Sssacred Ssscrolls, Sssyler. When I bought Bronwyn'sss sssoul from the Ssspirits, it wasss placed under my custody. I am bound by our contract asss witnessed by Erastmus and Sssuella. Ssshould you fail to honor your part in that agreement, the part to follow your destiny, then her sssoul is mine. If you reject your destiny, then I will sssend her sssould to Vakleem and eternal torment and sssuffering." There was not a hint of remorse in Crusos' voice. Instead, he seemed to be extremely satisfied with himself.

 

As he said that, he reached down and into Bronwyn's chest. He made a fist and began to pull. Bronwyn's body didn't react, but a spectral version of her that was being pulled out by the Element cried out in pain and pure anguish.

 

"Stop!" Syler yelled.

 

"You will serve the Elements then?" asked Crusos.

 

"What do you want me to do?"

 

"Power will be given to you among mortalsss, accept it and use it. Battlesss and warsss will be fought, wage them and win them. Do not resist prophecy and when the time comesss, heed my call. Do that and Bronwyn will remain free."

 

Syler looked down at the battered nightmarish version of Bronwyn and back up to the grinning Element. Though he knew he would curse himself for it, he said, "Very well. I will do as you ask."

 

Victory flashed in Crusos' eyes and he released Bronwyn's soul. "Pleasure dealing with you, Sssyler Penion," he hissed. With a snap of his bony fingers, the horror vanished and Syler was back in the Kruish arena.

"My lord?" Vekla said quizzically.

 

As he collected himself, Bronwyn and his other friends reached him and were looking at him as though he would fall over at any moment.

 

"Are you okay?" Bronwyn asked quietly. "Could one of those spells be affecting you?"

 

"Um, no, I am okay," he said, though he didn't convince even himself. "My leg is hurting, but that is about all."

 

"Here, let me take a look at it," said Alltis quietly as she knelt next to him. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but he was still losing blood. Now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade, it was beginning to hurt and his knee was tensing up.

 

"Lapra yagreshi o fowe vostreas eka nuath ley!" Vekla snapped at some of the other warriors who were still kneeling in supplication. Two of them ran off back through the tunnel.

 

Syler hobbled over to the nearest platform and sat down on one of its steps. When he sat down, he looked around and was suddenly very conscious of the crowd of silent observers on their knees just waiting there. "Are they necessary? Is there something more for them to do?" he asked.

 

Vekla shook her head, "No, bwe ley. They were here to observe the duel and pledge loyalty to the victor."

 

Syler frowned and said curtly, "Then send them away. Tell them to go home." The last thing he wanted right now was to be the center of attention for thousands of other people.

 

Vekla started shouting out orders, but Syler didn't pay attention. His leg was beginning to hurt and needed attention.

 

Alltis, joined quickly by Bronwyn, managed to cut away his pants leg with a small knife so they could get a better look. Lord Saekoris' sword had done a good number on him as it sliced through his flesh. Syler winced as one of the women's hands probed the gash.

 

Two warriors, both of whom were carrying healing supplies, and a younger man wearing a leather apron approached from the tunnel and headed straight for him. The young man quickly bowed his head and said, "Kae vso vostraes satsuf Jaquiil, bwet ley."

 

"What?" asked Syler.

 

"His name is Jaquiil," Bronwyn replied. "He is an apprentice healer."

 

"Right," he mumbled in response.

 

Jaquiil hesitated until Alltis waved him over. As soon as he realized that Syler wasn't going to hurt him, he quickly went to work evaluating the injury and applying some basic herbs from a chest held by one of the warriors. Syler hissed in pain when he applied something that burned to the wound. Since his father was an alchemist who worked with basic herbal healing, he knew that sometimes things that were helpful to someone also hurt them, so he didn't complain.

 

While the healer was working, Syler noticed that Vekla had wandered off to stand over Lord Saekoris' body. She remained standing there looking down at him. Since her back was turned, he couldn't see her expression, but she didn't seem to be too happy. He figured that, after probably serving her entire life under him, she would wish to pay her respects, so he left her to it.

 

She wasn't alone in tending to his body. There were four warriors and what may have been some sort of Kruish priest who were tending to the body. They were gathering up various pieces of leather and metal that had blown off of the man when the lightning hit him and placing them atop a white sheet. One of the warriors had a large shroud that they clearly intended on placing him in to carry him off for burial or burning or whatever the Krue did to their dead. Despite his anger, Syler approved of their tending to their fallen lord. Lord Saekoris had been an honorable man who had done well by him, so he bore the man no ill will despite what happened here.

 

Jaquiil finished his basic treatment of the wound and was wrapping it tightly in white bandages. He was busy giving instructions to Bronwyn and Alltis in Kruish and, since he couldn't understand them anyway, Syler tuned him out. He had a good enough idea what to do and planned on getting a more full treatment later. If he could find access to the healer's supplies, he could make himself a couple of poultices, salves, and tinctures that would help slow the bleeding, speed the healing, and stave off infection.

 

"Okay," he said grumpily, "it is time to go. I have seen enough of this place."

 

"What about your leg? Jaquiil was insistent that you stay off of it as much as possible to allow it to heal."

 

"I know what to do, my father was practically our village healer." He used the rail of the platform to pull himself up and gasped in pain when he stepped on his leg. It hurt, but the pain was bearable. He briefly considered asking for a gurney, but quickly rejected that notion. The Krue didn't respect weakness at all. He would walk or, more likely, limp without relying on others.

 

Seeing him get up, Vekla returned to his side and asked quietly, "What do you command?"

 

"I want to be taken somewhere where I can think all of this over. My friends need to rest as well. They are to be tended to and given every courtesy, even Growald and his men."

 

Vekla nodded and said, "They shall be taken to your estate at once."

 

"My estate?" asked Syler suspiciously. He was suddenly back on the alert.

 

"You are the Lord of Thwrud, Lord Saekoris' estate and all he possessed is now yours," Vekla replied. "He has no woman left, so you do not owe her galthus so it is all yours."

 

Syler could only shake his head in disgust and disbelief. He looked around at the gathered warriors still keeping a watchful eye on him or tending to Lord Saekoris' body. They had just traded a wise and honorable leader for a foreigner who knew nothing of their ways. It was ridiculous and at this moment, he had no love for Kruish tradition. "Then take us there," he said reluctantly. At least it would be comfortable and give him the chance to tend to his leg properly. After a moment's hesitation, Vekla turned and began leading them out of the arena.

 

As they were walking toward the tunnel, Bronwyn fell in beside him. In a low voice, she asked, "Syler, did you hear what she said when she pledged her loyalty to you?"

 

"Yea, I did."

 

"And you aren't letting her tend to her father?" she asked incredulously.

 

Syler missed a step. "What are you talking about?"

 

"Her name, Syler. She said it was Vekla Saekoris. Lord Saekoris was her father."

 

Syler paled in shock, then began turning slightly pink from embarrassment. Now that she had mentioned it, he did remember that something was familiar about the sorceress' name. He had been too angry and overwhelmed to notice what Bronwyn had.

 

"Um, Vekla," he said in a voice loud enough for her to hear, "I think Delmonor and the others can take us back to the estate. Lord Saekoris was an honorable man who did what he thought was best for his people even at the expense of his own life. See to it that he is treated with all the proper honors a man of his station deserves. Take as long as you need." She looked as though she were going to argue, so he added, "Consider that a command from your lord."

 

She bowed and retreated away to return to her fallen father's body. Syler spent the rest of their journey back to Lord Saekoris' estate trying not to be sick. The revelation that Vekla's father had been the very man he just killed was the final bit of shock needed to push him over the edge. He had been furious at the Krue for making him kill that man for no good reason, but now he was livid because Vekla had been forced to publicly pledge her loyalty to her father's killer.

 

This was a day that he would never hope to relive again, though he knew he would have nightmares for the rest of his life. He hoped that he would get a few days to rest and soak it all in before some other major disaster happened. Knowing his luck, that wasn't likely.

[DarthBrendo]

onfirmed Syler's fears of what type of trial was before him by handing him of Kruish black leather brigandine.

 

There's a word missing in this sentence. What was he handed?

 

In response, the entire crowd stomped a single foot on the wooden planks they were standing on sending out an echoing boom

 

This sentence feels very chunky and run's on too long...it needs a comma or something to break it up.

 

A blindingly hot line of pain etched itself across his unprotected shin and calf as he did from where Saekoris' blade sliced skin, muscle, and bone

 

I'd take out the bone, as it doesn't make sense, and then you go on to refer on to the flesh wound from the sword later on.

 

That was a much better ending to the duel and its aftermath than the previous version. It acknowledges that Syler would have been to preoccupied to properly hear Vekla say her name, but also his own kindhearted nature, and the fact that he was the clan chief and so would have been looked after accordingly after being killed. The only thing I would suggest would be to add a direct acknowledgement that he was her father in his last words to her.

[Travis]

The first one was indeed a mistake, but when I was going through it, I also noticed another. I meant to have Delmonor say "IT will help you" not "I will help you." That and the other sentence has been fixed as follows:

Delmonor, with a look of sympathy and regret on his red speckled face, confirmed Syler's fears of what type of trial was before him by handing him a Kruish brigandine made of black leather. "Put this on. It will help you."

 

I fixed the stomping part as follows:

In response, the entire crowd stomped a single foot on the wooden planks they were standing on. For a few moments, the entire arena echoed with a resounding boom. There were no cheers or any other sounds from the audience, so the arena quickly returned to silence.

 

I also removed the bone part as you suggested. The original thought I had was that it nicked his bone, not cut through it outright. However, for simplicity's sake, I think I will just leave it out to avoid confusing anyone.

 

However, I am going to keep the end as it was. Syler would be too embarrassed to point that out just yet because then it would mean admitting he missed it earlier and wouldn't want to call attention to his mistake by directly mentioning it. If I am not mistaken, there is a part coming up soon where he acknowledges their familial relationship and apologizes while expressing his condolences, he is just too angry and caught up (as well as in pain) to mess with something like that right at that moment.

[Travis]

Yet again, I have created an entirely new chapter to put in here. For quite some time, I was not happy with the transition between Syler's become Lord of Thwrud and his going off to find Karusa. I kept thinking: why would a group of fiercely xenophobic and proudly arrogant people just accept an outsider who didn't even know their language and had only been within their territory for a couple of days? The answer I kept coming back to was: they wouldn't. Whether Lord Saekoris liked it or not and regardless to what prophecy said, I just couldn't rationalize the Krue accepting him as a Lord at that stage. I tried to build up Syler's credibility with what happened on their return from going after Karusa, but that was just too little too late and was mainly geared toward getting other clans to accept him (or not).

 

So, what I did was expand the arena scene in the last chapter as well as create this chapter. It serves multiple functions. It allows some transition between major events in this part of the novel (which I thought fell under the "too much too fast" category). It allows Delmonor to continue working with Syler (which he does even more next chapter) thus explaining why he rises within Syler's court so quickly in the future It introduces the female warrior Relwind more formally (she was kinda a tagalong in the first draft) and allows me to explore the (radical) Kruish concept of female warriors just a tiny bit. And finally, it allows me to show why Syler would be accepted (as well as giving Vekla another bada moment).

 

So, all that being said, enjoy the new material and prepare yourself for more new material in the next chapter (or two).

 

 

 

______________

 

Chapter 28

 

• The Krue may appear to be a single, united race, but they are not. The Krue are actually a collection of smaller fiefdoms ruled by various lords. They cooperate together to protect their lands from outsiders, but beyond that, there is often great rivalry between the different clans. Each lord has great control over his or her clan's lands, but are also responsible for protecting them from other clans.
   
  — The Krue: A Valiant Race by Terl Fongalto

 

Thwrud

Subeleth

October 4

 

"What…is…this?" demanded Syler through clenched teeth. He spoke each word slowly, clearly, and with exaggerated enunciation.

 

"It seems to be a small display of Kruish military might in honor of their new lord," sniped Lamastus from beside him. Unlike his friend, the Angvardi seemed to find the entire situation quite amusing and was not afraid to show it.

 

Syler was clearly not amused. It was bad enough that the pain in his leg was preventing him from walking normally, now he was going to be paraded in front of hundreds of warriors so they could all see it. After what happened in the arena, the only thing he wanted to do was get himself some herbs for his leg and get every Krue out of his sight. Now, he was going to be right up in front of more Krue than he could count.

 

Delmonor must have read his mind because he said, "Fear not, bwet ley. There is great honor in receiving wounds in battle with worthy foes. Lord Saekoris was very worthy."

 

"Great," replied Syler while rolling his eyes. "So I now have an honorably crippling wound."

 

"Syler, calm down," said Bronwyn softly. She put her hand on his forearm and gave it a light squeeze. "They are only doing what they know. In this difficult time, they get comfort from doing what is most familiar. It is no easier for them to have to mourn a beloved Inthaley while embracing a foreigner who doesn't even speak their language."

 

"Hey, I didn't ask for this." Syler stopped just up the street from where it looked like two entire companies of fully armed and armored warriors had lined up on both sides of the street for his inspection. If they took notice of him or his pause, they didn't react, but kept standing in parade formation facing forward.

 

"No," said Lamastus, "but you have it. What is wrong with you? You have gone from being a fugitive on the run from the most powerful empire on Teladia with a dying wife to having miraculously healed your wife and becoming a wealthy, powerful clan lord in perhaps the only kingdom on Teladia who can stand up to those who want to kill you. Men would kill to be in your place, and you can do nothing but get angry."

 

"I never wanted power," said Syler. "All I wanted was peace and the ability to one day find a woman to love and raise some kids. I found the woman and now it seems that everyone suddenly wants to interfere with and control my life."

 

"At least ya have yer friends," Havert pointed out. "Could be far worse than that, eh?"

 

"We know it is a lot to take in," said Alltis soothingly, "but sometimes we all have to face what life has in store for us."

 

Syler wasn't going to be comforted this easily. "I have always accepted what fate had in store for me, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. After what happened with them while bargaining for Bronwyn's life, I have become rather soured with the Elements."

 

There was a quizzical look on the faces of everyone except Bronwyn. "Whatcha talkin' 'bout?" asked Havert.

 

Belatedly, he realized that he hadn't had time to properly tell the others about his dealings with Crusos and the other Elements. "Never mind, I will tell you later."

 

Havert looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it when he saw the expression on Bronwyn's face telling him to drop it. "'Kay, I guess we can hear later."

 

"Bwet ley, should we move forward?" Delmonor asked hesitantly.

 

"Yea, we wouldn't want to keep all those fine looking gentlemen waiting for us," Lamastus chimed in. "At least try to look like you are interested or else they may take offense and I really don't want to have a horde of offended Krue after me."

 

Syler shook his head in defeat and hobbled forward. As much as he didn't want to pay them much attention, he couldn't help himself. He was too fascinated with the armor they wore and the various weapons carried by these warriors not to. Being a blacksmith meant that he was always curious about what others were doing and trying to find out how they did it. If there was anything to like about the Krue, it was their close attention to detail in all of their craftsmanship. He knew just enough about armor to know that the leather they wore, while light, was probably nearly as strong as most of the mail that other kingdoms utilized. It wouldn't stand up against the solid steel of plate armors, but it had the benefit of added mobility and being less exhausting to balance things out.

 

He also noticed that these men wore fairly heavy steel mail hauberks under a leather brigandine like what Delmonor had given him at the arena. The longer mail of the hauberks covered their entire arms as well as down to their mid-thigh. The mounted warriors wore only a heavy boiled brigandine and scale bracers on the parts of the arms and legs that were exposed during mounted combat. These warriors were clearly infantry as their heavy armor was more suited to hand to hand combat on foot.

 

He got to one particular warrior and had to do a double take. Like all of the warriors in formation, this one wore a dark steel sallet helm with a visor that covered their face down to the chin. That style offered protection while giving plenty of access to air and kept the warrior cooler while giving them the mobility to look around that heavier helms sometimes lacked. What caught his eye was that, unlike every single other Kruish man he had seen since arriving in this city except Lord Saekoris, this particular warrior didn't have a beard.

 

Syler paused in curiosity and gave the man a closer look. To his surprise, he noticed that this warrior's armor had been modified to allow for the slight swell of breasts and he realized that this was no man, but a female warrior. He cocked his head a little and appraised the woman with an arched brow. Delmonor, seeing the extra attention, stepped forward to say, "The Krue welcome all who properly wield weapons and have desire to protect their clan."

 

Syler was intrigued despite himself. "Even women?"

 

"Women can be just as fierce as men, and often be more cunning."

 

"I never knew that the Krue had women in their ranks," commented Lamastus thoughtfully.

 

"Many women fight for the People," replied Delmonor.

 

This was a totally new concept for him and, right now, he would take any distraction that took his mind off of everything else. Syler stroked his beard and asked, "How are they treated?"

 

"They have same standards as man, though they often be better to prove worthiness. They have equal pay and the same share of bounty and pillage from victories."

 

The woman continued to stare forward blankly, clearly not understanding anything that was being said about her. Syler was curious enough to ask, "What is her name?"

 

"Neith fos nuath teskan, dhalka?" asked Delmonor.

 

The woman didn't hesitate in replying, "Relwind Hastor se Thattos, bwet ley."

 

"Her name is—" Delmonor started.

 

"Yes, I know," interrupted Syler. "I may not know your tongue, but I am not stupid."

 

"Dalmabwes—forgive me," Delmonor said with a quick bow.

 

"Tell her that she is the first female warrior I have ever met." It was true, other than the magically gifted, he had never met a woman who fought alongside men.

 

While he did, Lamastus commented, "They have oversized horses, poor fashion senses, brutal entertainment, peculiar methods of succession, and now warrior women. These Krue are just full of surprises, aren't they?"

 

"And yet," countered Syler, "I notice that your armies bypassed them in favor of going after weaker prey."

 

The Angvardi nodded in begrudging agreement. "Point taken, my friend."

 

That at least got a small smile from Syler, though it didn't last long. "Perhaps we should move on," he suggested. Before he did, he told Delmonor one more thing. "Tell her that I admire her willingness to be matched against men and hope to see her fight one day."

 

He continued to hobble along while his guide translated his message. Now that he knew what to look for, he noticed several women among the ranks. Even then, out of the twelve hundred or so warriors, he guessed only fifty or so were women.

 

After going through the gauntlet of warriors, Syler began to grow suspicious about where exactly they were being led. He hadn't yet come close to being able to memorize the layout of this city, but he didn't think they were heading back to the estate. "Where are we going, Delmonor?" he asked.

 

"We go to ka inthadaeka."

 

"Is that what you call Lord Saekoris' house?"

 

"No," replied Bronwyn, "that is some sort of clan meeting place, right?"

 

Delmonor nodded, "It is the hall of the clan. It is where you were first brought."

 

Syler's face grew dark, "I asked to be taken to his house so we can rest."

 

"This was known, but not possible." The warrior met Syler's gaze without turning away. "You are the Inthaley, things are required of you first."

 

"What sort of things?" asked Syler suspiciously.

 

"The lesser leyi must acknowledge your claim and humble themselves before you."

 

Lamastus jumped in, "You mean they have to throw themselves at his feet and proclaim him the best of all the lords they ever had?" He elbowed Havert and whispered, "This could be good."

 

Syler glared at his friend for a second then returned his attention to the hapless Delmonor. He opened his mouth to say something, but Bronwyn cut him off with a gentle touch on the small of his back. "I am sure that wherever we are going, there will be someone there to better see to his leg," she said in a placating voice. "Even Inthaleyi can be wearied and weakened by the frailty of the flesh."

 

"Pasu, bwet leya," Delmonor said with a bow. "The vostraes thadak should be there."

 

"Then we had best hurry," she said while throwing a pointed look at her husband.

 

When they finally arrived at the Clan House, Syler's mood was simmering and just waiting to be given another excuse to boil over. What they found just might have done the trick except for Bronwyn's death grip upon his upper arm reminding him to keep himself under control. As furious as he was at the Krue right now, he didn't want to do anything that would give Bronwyn cause to be cross with him. For her sake, he did his best to keep his face neutral.

 

There were a few men and women present already, but Delmonor assured him that more would come to pay homage to him and declare their loyalty. Syler ignored them as he hobbled his way up to the raised chair where he had first seen Lord Saekoris. He didn't want to sit there, but Delmonor, with Lamastus' assistance, were guiding him there and not giving him much choice.

 

As he settled down in the throne, he couldn't keep the grimace off of his face. His leg was throbbing and sending pain shooting up his entire side. "The healer?" he asked as soon as he was settled and his guides were satisfied.

 

Within a minute, he saw a diminutive figure work her way through the gathered nobility and sighed in a mixture of relief and annoyance. The same healer woman who had tried to help Bronwyn was now coming to help him. When she saw him, she clacked her tongue and said, "You be needing much help, I see. I sense trouble from ye, much trouble indeed."

 

"He is your Inthaley now, speak with respect," a clearly irritated Delmonor snapped from behind her.

 

Without any look of concern, she continued toward Syler and knelt down to inspect his calf. When Delmonor took a step forward, she smirked and said, "So I done hear, dhalka. Do you wish me to prostrate meself before him while his wound grows worse?"

 

"Enough," said Syler as he pounded his fist on the chair. "Let her get on with it."

 

She crackled quietly to herself as she slowly unwrapped the temporary bandage that Jaquill had given him. "Ahh, Jaquiil be a good lad, but he be needing to learn more of battle wounds. Been treating too many illnesses and not enough proper wounds lately."

 

Syler gave a sharp intake of breath as she probed his wound. His hands were clenched on the armrests of his throne as he struggled not to give voice to his pain. With the eyes of the others on him, he needed to be strong and show no weakness. The healer woman was putting something on his leg that stung like fire and caused his eyes to water.

 

"I was never told your name," said Syler, trying to find a way to distract himself from the pain of what she was doing. "What is it?"

 

The woman cackled manically and said, "So the mighty ley wishes to hear the name of a poor old woman? How amusing."

 

In no mood to argue or toss around banter, Syler shrugged and replied, "Okay then, don't tell me."

 

"Do not get testy, my ley, I just be teasing you. Old women such as meself must get our amusements where we can." She reached over to one of the warriors and pulled out a small glass flask and various vials from the chest he held. While humming annoyingly to herself, she began pouring various liquids and powders into the flask and shaking it around.

 

"What are you mixing?" Syler asked in spite of himself. He was the son of an alchemist, so his curiosity got the better of him.

 

"I know it not in your tongue, but we call it dhalkaesiin. It is mostly a mixture of vasta, khosako, and thukornae with maliikas added for good measure."

 

"Warriors Companion?" asked Alltis. "That is what you are giving him?"

 

"If that be your name for it, yes," the woman replied.

 

"What does it contain?" asked Syler.

 

"I be sorry, I know not the names of the herbs in your tongue," the healer woman admitted.

 

"I believe 'thukornae' is sage," Bronwyn said.

 

Syler recognized the herb because he had used it himself to treat Bronwyn and others before. He wasn't too concerned about it because Lord Saekoris had trusted the woman. He would satisfy his curiosity at a later time.

 

A young man wearing flowing dark red robes without any of the normal Kruish furs or leather approached the small group. Syler noticed that he was wanting to gain his attention, but wouldn't initiate things and figured that it was another of the whole lordship things. He waved the man forward and asked, "Do you understand me?"

 

The man nodded and said, "I do speak the Outsiders Tongue, my lord." His words were surprisingly devoid of the heavy accent and sometimes strange pronunciation that the other Krue used. If anything, he almost reminded Syler of how Vekla spoke when not distracted.

 

"What is it that you want me for?"

 

The man bowed and answered, "It has caught my notice that you are injured. If my lord permits, I wish to offer my services."

 

The skin beneath Syler's eyes twitched. In a low voice, he asked, "And what services are those?"

 

The man hesitated briefly, then collected himself. "My deepest apologies, my lord. I assumed you recognized my robes. I am Mage Second Class Zago Khaflar and I am skilled in natural and perspective magics. If my lord would permit, I will heal his leg."

 

"If you could, then you will have my deepest gratitude."

 

The healer woman looked at her new rival with disdain, but backed away with only a sniff of indignation. Zago advanced up to the throne and knelt before Syler just as the other woman had. Instead of prodding the wound with his fingers, he held his hands out above the wound and closed his eyes. At first, his expression was calm and in control, but within half a minute, his brows were furrowed and the top of his forehead was wrinkled.

 

It took another thirty seconds before he admitted defeat. He gasped as though he had been holding his breath and looked up at Syler with wide eyes full of disbelief. "I…" he panted in distress, "I can't…seem to read you. Are you intentionally trying to block me?"

 

Syler sighed in frustration and fell back into his throne. He had feared that this would happen. Back in the arena, he had considered asking Vekla to heal him, but things were a little hectic there and she seemed justifiably distracted and distraught. Even were she not, he doubted that she could have done anything.

 

"It isn't you, it is me," he said. "Apparently magic doesn't work on me like normal people. You could blast me with the most powerful fire you could conjure and I wouldn't even feel the warmth. It has its advantages, but in times like this, I really hate it."

 

Zago backed away on his knees and nearly fell down the steps leading up to the throne. "It is not possible! It cannot be! You are the One, the Master of Magic, the Majiyae Oretezu!" In a louder voice, he shouted, "Kota fos ka Majiyae Oretezu, ka ley se quanos!"

 

Ignoring Syler's displeasure, he scrambled to his feet and pointed at him while continuing on in Kruish. Those gathered in the hall were quick to take notice though not all looked surprised. More had come since he had arrived including many who likely had been at the arena and already knew what happened there. There was a lot of discussion in the hall, none of it which he understood.

The healer woman, ignoring the rest of the room, returned to his side and commented wryly, "It be looking as though me services be needed once more, no?" Syler didn't respond, but he did let her continue her treatment of his calf.

 

Syler let the men in the room continue to talk and even argue with each other while he thought of what he could say or do to settle things down. He was no fool and had no misconceptions about the position he now found himself in. Men in power were targets, especially when someone felt they were weak. Lord Saekoris might think he was doing right by his clan by giving them the supposed savior of the world as their leader, but Syler wasn't so sure. As far as he was concerned, prophecy could be damned because it now meant that Thwrud was without a good leader and he was trapped in a role he wasn't prepared for or really wanted.

 

If he wasn't careful, any one of these brawny warrior nobles just might decide that rule was best left in their own hands and take action against him. Clearly, peaceful retirement wasn't exactly an option for one in his position. It seemed that the easiest way to gain power would be to kill the foreigner who sat on the throne before he could start establishing support. Right now, Syler wasn't up to fighting much and he didn't think he had enough friends to protect him were a number of these nobles take action.

 

He needed a way to make sure they recognized that he was in power, but that he wasn't going to try to destroy their way of life. He couldn't give them any signs of weakness, but he couldn't let them think he would be some iron fisted tyrant, either. He was never good with words, but if he wanted to keep his all of his blood inside him where it belonged, he had better learn quickly.

 

More men and a handful of women arrived while he was thinking and being tended to. There were now dozens of individuals wearing a variety of leather and fur clustered within the hall. Some had taken to the long benches at the tables that ran along either side of the fire pit, but most remained standing and talking to one another in little groups. He didn't recognize any of them except Zago who kept running from group to group with wide eyes and speaking in frantic tones. He did see two others who were wearing robes similar to Zago, though instead of red, theirs were dark blue. Syler didn't know if that meant they were more or less powerful than him, but it didn't matter because, apparently, no mage of any strength was a threat to him with their magic.

 

"Havert," he said.

 

The redhead snapped out of whatever daydreams he had been enjoying. "Huh?"

 

"Give me your sword, mine was destroyed in the arena." They both had been wearing the same type of Seinari made sword that Growald had given them before the attack on the temple, so it would fit within his scabbard and he was familiar with it. He hesitated in disarming one of his friends when a potential threat was near, but he would rather have Lamastus armed than Havert since the guardsman had spent his life as a soldier.

 

"Um, yea, sure," Havert replied as he slowly pulled his sword out and handed it over. Syler placed it in his own scabbard and took a few deep breaths to prepare him for the showdown that he knew was coming.

He had been so lost in thought that he didn't realize that most of the pain in his leg had faded. Whatever the woman had put onto the gash numbed the pain considerably. He might not be able to put his full weight on it, but at least walking would cause him to go dizzy with pain. That made him feel a lot more confident about what he was about to do.

 

As soon as the healer woman had bandaged his calf up, he stood up. He ignored the protests of both Bronwyn and the healer woman and forced himself to remain steady without assistance. "Delmonor," Syler said, "translate what I say." Once he received a nod of confirmation, he began speaking, pausing every few sentences to let him translate. "I am Syler Penion of Sandrin and yes, I am the Majiyae Oretezu. For better or for worse, I was forced to defend my claim in front of thousands of your fellow Krue by slaying your former lord, Avenil Saekoris. I am told that makes me your new clan lord by right of combat and prophecy."

 

"I am not a Krue and I do not know your ways. I did not seek this power, but it has found me. I am not a politician who knows of politics and negotiation and of good speeches. I am a blacksmith who knows of hard work, metal, and sweat.

 

"I know many of you have issues and concerns about the future, and I assure you that you are not alone. When I can, I will begin consulting with your elders and nobles so that we can find some way to allow this clan to operate under the rule of an outsider until I can learn more about my role. Until then, it is my will that you continue to conduct business as you have and not change things until you hear otherwise from me."

 

He paused to let Delmonor finish translating and to let everyone soak in what he said. "Do not think that makes me weak. I am not a warrior by profession or choice, but by circumstance. I have gone to battle and have killed men who stood against me. Make no mistake, I will fight if pushed and I will defend those I love. Many of you will have heard of how I came here with my wife under a curse and stood up against the Elements themselves to save her. That is not a rumor, that is a fact. You must now ask yourselves: what kind of strength and courage does a man who would stand up against the Immortals possess and do you really want to challenge such a man?"

 

Taking a gamble, he let his anger and frustration over the events of the day flow through him. Boldness had favored him when dealing with the Elements, perhaps it would serve him well here, too. When he thought he was angry enough, he glowered down at them in a direct challenge. If the Krue preferred strength and directness, then he would offer it. Wounded or not, he was not a small man and right now, his anger felt intense enough to boil water.

 

He drew his sword and planted it tip first in the wood floor in front of him. In a loud, clear, and angry voice, he said, "Are there any here who take issue with that or the fact that I am now the Inthaley of Thwrud? Any who want to challenge my position? If so, let them do so now. If not, bow down before me and pledge your eternal loyalty to me as your rightful inthaley."

 

Once Delmonor finished, all eyes were on the foreigner standing in defiance in front of him. Only the sound of crackling fire intruded upon the silence present in the hall as the assorted men waited for something to happen. Eyes began to scan those around them as each man was wanting to see what their fellow nobles were thinking, but none dared speak a word. As the seconds passed, Syler began to hope that perhaps his gamble had paid off and that nobody would challenge him.

 

That hope was soon dashed when a particularly large and burly man swathed in thick furs and wearing a long, braided beard stepped forward and crossed his arms in defiance. "Kae sarbwekheith fao pandraukh!" He spat on the ground in front of him.

 

"He says he won't follow a foreigner," Delmonor whispered in translation, though Syler already got the idea.

 

Several others crossed their arms across their chest and spat on the ground in front of them. Other individuals slowly began to back away from them as the battle lines were formed. There were about a dozen who stood with the challenger, but so far, none had openly declared for Syler himself. Those who hadn't declared against him were waiting in neutrality to see how Syler responded and handled himself. Their decisiveness wasn't inspiring, but at least they weren't actively against him.

 

"Now I have to kill him, right?" he asked.

 

Delmonor replied, "That is the strongest response, but you could always command one of your loyal followers to fight on your behalf. It is safer, but it is not as powerful of a sign."

 

Syler stared into the challenger's eyes and asked, "Neith fos nuath teskan?" He wanted to know the man's name before they went at it.

 

"Kae vsu Ley Sutotar Yaegran," the man replied.

 

"Tell him I accept his challenge and will fight him myself," Syler responded without taking his eyes off of Lord Yaegran. When Bronwyn tried to protest, his clenched fist snapped up commanding a silence that she knew better than to break. He considered his options and decided that if he were going to go out, it might as well as be with a bang. Holding back hadn't helped him so far, so why start now? With a sneer of contempt, Syler added, "Tell him that he is not a worthy enough foe to face on even footing and that I must fight him while wounded in order for there to be a fair fight." He wanted everyone in the room to know that he was wounded and not at his best so that if he won, they would hopefully fear him even more. Such a thing, he hoped, would discourage further challenges and solidify his position without needing to face challenger after challenger.

 

Lord Yaegran turned red with fury when he heard that. He pulled his axe off of his back and started clawing his way through a rapidly scattering crowd. Syler had hoped that they would go outside to fight, but it appeared that his comment had enraged his foe and that they would be fighting here and now. At least he would have the high ground.

 

Once he made the decision to fight, Syler didn't hesitate. His weapon was already in his hand so he flipped it up and into the ready position. He rotated to where his uninjured right side was facing his opponent and braced himself with both hands on his sword for the Kruish lord to get into range.

 

Steel clashed against steel as the two of them all but slammed into each other. Lord Yaegran, determined to quickly destroy his foe and aided by the rage at the insult thrown against him, charged in with no finesse or strategy beyond the desire to crush everything in his path. He saw his foe as nothing more than a wounded, pathetic foreigner who was nothing more than an insect to be crushed so he could acquire power for himself. The blacksmith couldn't stand against the much larger warrior, but that wasn't Syler's intent. Instead of trying to stop him or the giant, heaving swing of his axe, Syler deflected the man's momentum off to his side and straight into the throne they were fighting over. The axe head dug into the back of the chair and the lord himself was thrown face first into it.

 

Ignoring Lord Yaegran's roar of fury, Syler disengaged his sword and tried to hack at his opponent while he was sprawled halfway in the throne with his knees on the ground in front of it. The warrior was too quick for that and quickly grabbed Syler's two hands with his free one thus preventing him from landing the blow. Syler leaned his weight into the sword hoping that his two arms would be stronger than his foe's one, but Lord Yaegran countered by abandoning his wedged axe and slammed his fist into Syler's midsection. If he hadn't been wearing the brigandine from the arena, Syler would have probably doubled over in agony and the fight would have been over. As it was, the blow hurt, but didn't shake Syler's resolve or ability to fight. He had only to conjure the image of Bronwyn and Karusa's faces to find the will to continue on.

 

Syler tried to shift his weight to the side hoping to wrench his sword away from Lord Yaegran's grip, but the Krue simply added the strength of his second arm to the tug of war. Both men were struggling to gain control of the hilt while glaring into each other's eyes with fury and hatred. Syler grunted with effort as he tried to force the blade down into his opponent's flesh, but he wasn't as strong as his foe and Lord Yaegran knew it. With a cruel smile, he began to get his feet under him and started standing up to gain more leverage. Slowly, bit by bit, the sword began to hover closer to Syler's shoulder. Syler had to do something quickly or this fight wouldn't last for long.

 

With a snarl, Syler took a risk and tugged one of his hands free from the contest for the sword. Without leaving Lord Yaegran's gaze, his hand darted down to his belt and back up in the blink of an eye. The Kruish lord's eyes widened slightly with realization of what had happened and his mouth opened in a wordless gasp of shock and pain. His eyes slowly turned down to behold the hilt of the knife sticking out of his gut with dark red liquid pouring out over his own stomach and covering Syler's hand.

 

 

Syler's upper lip curled in disdain as he twisted the knife up under Lord Yaegran's ribs and into the man's lungs. Blood gushed from Lord Yaegran's mouth and down into his beard. With one final gasp that sent flecks of blood all over Syler's face, the challenger let go of the sword they had been contesting and collapsed with the knife still in his gut onto the ground in front of the throne and the gaze of Thwrud's nobility.

 

No sooner had the body hit the floor then a boom of lightning broke the resulting silence with shouts of alarm and death. Syler whirled around to see what happened and was astonished at what he saw. The first thing he noticed was an absolutely furious looking Vekla Saekoris standing atop a large crate near the door of the hall. Dark energy still crackled from her fingertips and strands of her long, straight black hair stood on end.

 

The second thing he noticed was the smell of charred flesh and blood. He took his eyes off the enraged sorceress and beheld the dozen blackened corpses and the rapidly expanding red pools expanding from each. He opened his mouth to demand an explanation for the slaughter when he realized that each of the bodies were where Lord Yaegran's supporters had been standing.

Vekla's enraged voice broke through the ensuing chaos as she shouted, "Vakooth nuamus! Vakooth nuamus! Vakooth nuamus quanos eka nuath pusdosta!"

 

Bronwyn rushed to her husband's side and began translating what Vekla was shouting as the sorceress continued to lash out against the gathered lords. "Shame to you! Shame to you for your cowardice! Lord Saekoris, my father and your sworn lord, sacrificed himself to give you the Majiyae Oretezu, the one who will be greatest of all mortals. He expected you to abide by his wishes and you hesitated. Shame, shame to you!

 

"You are unworthy of the gift my father gave you. He gave you a chance to stand first among all Krue, but you did not accept his gift. Because of your hesitation, you shall be humbled. Lord Penion has defended his right and slain the bastard who challenged him. Bow! Bow down before your lord and master, Lord Syler Penion of Sandrin, or I will cut you down as I did those who stood with the traitorous Sutothar! "

 

When faced with the wrath of a sorceress on one side and Syler's glowering visage on the other, all those who were gathered fell to their knees, bowed their heads, and clasped their right fist over their heart. Syler stood tall and dispassionate with Lord Yaegran's blood still on his hand and face while the survivors came forward one by one to bow and pledge their loyalty to him. More came and, upon seeing the scene and hearing the tale, were quick to bend the knee and swear allegiance. Throughout it all, Syler didn't acknowledge a single one of them. He stood there tall and furious with his wife and friends beside him. The only eyes his met during that hour were the equally furious brown eyes of the sorceress whose father he had killed and, in doing so, had somehow earned her loyalty and protection.

 

In the end, Syler wanted nothing more than to return to the simple little house he had with Bronwyn back in Kubei and pretend none of the last month had happened.

[DarthBrendo]

he noticed a several women among the ranks

 

Remove the 'a'

 

She crackled quietly to herself

 

Do you mean crackled or cackled? Crackled doesn't really make sense.

 

but it is not as power of a sign

 

This is kinda clunky. I'm guessing you mean that it's not as powerful a sign? Or something similar?

 

His weapon was already in his hand so he flipped it up from and into the ready position.

 

I don't think you need the 'from' as it doesn't work with it.

 

This certainly gives more weight to his have solid control/power of the clan, and I like the way you worked in the female warriors, making it the lack of a beard that prompted the recognition.

[Travis]

Yes, well, as this was essentially a first draft kinda thing, there were bound to be errors. I am glad you caught them. They have been fixed.

 

The whole beard thing has been mentioned several times and for a reason. There is a purpose to me constantly reminding the readers that all men there have beards and I believe I will get to it in this next chapter.

[Travis]

Okay, last all new chapter for a while (I hope). This one is sort of a continuation of the transition from last chapter. No, I didn't get to the beard part, but oh well, there is always next chapter.

 

In this one, I get to have a big pow-wow with several of the "Team Syler" players. Really, the only one missing is Vekla, and for good reason. It was a bit of fun to throw everyone together, especially poor ole Delmonor who just loves eating and drinking (as he did in the later chapter when they were feasting here). I got to have some fun here with the character dynamics, but alas, I must restrain myself with extra dialogue. The entire thing sets up the change I have decided for the novel, mainly due to time and also because I never liked the part where they go to Sua Tles and are ambushed. Make no mistake, they are going to get ambushed, but not there and not like that.

 

Anyway, here is the next bit. I am sure you will find some errors, so please lay them out and I will fix them up.

 

______________

 

 

Chapter 29

 

• In the hierarchy of nobility within the Kruish clans, there are none as great and respected as the Inthaley, the Clan Lord. They hold great power and control within their territories where they reign as kings or emperors. The only authority over the Inthaley is the Menhiilaus Zanaer, the Great Council of elders, clan lords, and respected members of society that occasionally meets to settle differences between the clans or to set policy for all Krue.
   
  — The Krue: A Valiant Race by Terl Fongalto

 

Clan Lord's Estate

Thwrud

Subeleth

October 4

 

At long last, they were able to escape the Clan Hall and get into the relative privacy of Lord Saekoris' estate. Even that minor feat had taken a full honor guard of a hundred warriors culled from among the best of the two companies that had presented themselves for Syler's inspection earlier. Syler had argued against such pomp, but Vekla told him in no uncertain terms that it was not an option. Delmonor joined her in pointing out that there were plenty of people who might not be too keen on having him as their lord and an ambush in the streets, while dishonorable, was not unheard of in such times. He assured him that in time, things would settle down, but for now, he needed to stay under close protection.

 

Vekla left him at the gateway to the estate that was now his and said she had work to do. Syler, thinking of her father's body, asked no questions. She had already saved him a great deal of trouble in the hall, he didn't want to intrude on her mourning any further. Resigning himself to the hundred strong bodyguard that began to fan out throughout the perimeter of the estate grounds, Syler and his friends entered the grand wood and brass doors of the estate.

 

They were met by an excited man dressed in fine wool robes and who proclaimed himself to be the saledaur, Torrvel Kagadan. He quickly figured out that a saledaur was a sort of overseer or steward for the estate's servants and guards whose responsibility it was to make sure things ran smoothly around the place so the lord could focus on other, more important things. Syler was grateful that the man spoke the Common Tongue because it made life so much easier for him. It took a few minutes, but he realized that it was Torrvel who helped show him around the house last evening when they were brought here for the night.

 

Torrvel was excited to explain to his new lord that that he now had eight female servants, five male servants, two chefs, a stableman, and a dozen permanently stationed guards at his every command. His estate had six guest rooms in addition to the master's chambers, an armory, a dining room for private dinners, a feast hall for public feasts, a small library, a study, an expansive cellar, a kitchen, quarters for the servants and guards, and most importantly, stables for up to fifteen hasuan. For Syler who had never lived in a house with more than five rooms, this was a palace beyond all of his dreams and expectations.

 

And yet, he hated it. Even as the nervous and excited servants showed him around, he only wanted to get out of here. He was furious at the Krue for their ridiculous customs and the bloodshed he had been forced to commit and witness because of them. He only tolerated it because Bronwyn didn't want to make a bad impression.

 

Had it been up to him, he would have rejected this all without second thought, but it wasn't. Crusos' warning about what he would do should he not embrace all of this was still very fresh on his mind. He didn't know what the devious Element had in mind, but from what he had been told, it probably involved a lot of bloodshed and violence. Syler wasn't a leader, he didn't want to send men into battle to die or be responsible for the lives of the people in Clan Thwrud. He wasn't even a Krue, and now he was supposed to lead them. They had altogether too much faith in prophecy if they were going to trust him to be their leader.

 

At last, the tour was over and they were able to clean up for supper. Though the worst of the Lord Yaegran's blood had been wiped off of his face and hands with a damp cloth back at the Clan House, there was still a dark brown crust around and under his fingernails. He was not exactly fit for dining anywhere and was eager to at least wash his hands and face. They quickly washed up in the small communal washroom that was connected to the feast hall.

 

It wasn't long before they were sitting in front of a rather large and long table waiting for their food to arrive. It appeared that the chefs were eager to display their culinary skill and make a good first impression on their new master because they had excitedly informed him that there would be a great feast in his honor. Though he wasn't hungry, Syler couldn't say no for the sake of the others. Against his better judgment, Syler sent out a servant to find Growald and Tald and invite them to the feast. He also insisted that Delmonor stayed as well, both out of gratitude for the man's help today and because he wanted a Kruish warrior who actually spoke his language just in case he needed to communicate with the warriors guarding him. He doubted that any of the warriors would take kindly to receiving orders through a servant.

 

He also sent word that Growald's men were to be given accommodations at whatever inns the city had, but that they were to stay within those places under guard. There was no point in causing problems by having them roaming around and offending one of the natives. It was better to have them safely tucked away and out of sight.

 

"Well, today was a lot of fun," said Lamastus jovially. Their food wasn't yet out, but the servants had given them plenty of drink options ranging from juices to beer, ale, wine, and mead.

 

"Don't even start," cautioned Syler. He was still in a sour mood. To top it off, whatever the healer woman gave him was beginning to wear off and his calf was hurting again.

 

"There is no need to take it out on him," chided Bronwyn. "It hasn't exactly been an enjoyable experience for us."

 

"Yea, we ain't had such a good day," added Havert. "We all are sorry for what they ha' done ta ya, but it ain't no reason to take it out on us. We are yer friends."

 

In a far more serious tone than before, Lamastus said, "Just try to relax, the worst should be over. Assuming there is no coup attempt—and I sincerely doubt it after the display back at the inthadaeka—things should start to calm down."

 

Syler sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Okay, I will admit, I am not in the best of moods. I am quite tired of everything and just want to rest. I am sorry for how I have been snapping at all of you today."

 

"There is no need for forgiveness," replied Alltis. "It has been an exhausting few days for you and we understand that. Few men could have held up as well as you have under these circumstances."

 

"Just try to enjoy the food when it comes," advised Lamastus. "I find that everything is better with food and ale in the belly."

 

Delmonor grunted in agreement, and raised his mug a little before chugging its contents down. Syler gave him a curious glance, but didn't say anything. It was the warrior's second cup of ale and he was already reaching for the pitcher to refill it. Syler wasn't going to begrudge the man a little ale after the uncomfortable day he had surely faced playing mediator and translator.

 

"Well there, I see ya have done well for yourself," a loud voice interrupted.

 

Syler groaned to himself as he turned his head to look at the new arrivals. Growald strode into the room and sat himself down beside Delmonor like he owned the place. Tald, at least, was a little more respectful and gave Syler a courteous nod of appreciation at being invited. Now that everyone was here, the servants began serving the feast.

 

The sight of large plates heaping full of thick cut beef, venison, and various fowl still sizzling from the fires was enough to remind Syler that he hadn't eaten since yesterday when talking with Lord Saekoris. Bowls overflowing with buttered and diced potatoes with radishes, carrots in a garlic and pepper sauce, and beets swimming in butter were served with the meats. Warm breads made with rye, wheat flour, and even potato starch were served alongside honey, jam, and butter. Last on the list was a variety of assorted cheeses from cow, goat, and even hasuan milks. Despite his earlier lack of appetite, Syler was unable to resist the sight and smell of such foods and ate a small amount. The others had no problem digging in, especially Delmonor and Growald.

 

While they ate, Syler and Bronwyn told of what happened since they parted companies at the border of Subeleth, though they left out certain details from what happened in the morning. When Havert expressed his disbelief, Delmonor began eagerly confirming what was said while spraying bread crumbs and droplets of ale all around him. When Havert repeated his disbelief, the Kruish warrior took offense and even pulled out a knife before Syler and the others were able to convince him that Havert was merely making a common saying and that he wasn't really calling Syler a liar. With cheeks flushed red, Delmonor sheathed his sword and offered his apologies.

 

Growald, for the most part, seemed especially interested in what happened with the Elements. When he spoke of them, there was an almost wistful gleam in the Seinari's eyes that Syler hadn't seen before. Syler went into as much detail as he dared, but still kept parts of it to himself. There were some things he just didn't want anyone, especially Bronwyn, knowing.

 

When the stories had been told, the subject moved on to the future. "So, Syler, what do you plan on doing now that you are lord of a Kruish clan?" Lamastus asked.

 

Syler swallowed another gulp of mead before replying, "The same thing I plan on doing when we left Kubei. I want to go after my sister."

 

There was silence for a few moments as those at the table glanced at each other trying to decide how to respond to this. It was Growald, as usual, who decided to barge in. "And what are you goin' to do about your responsibilities here?"

 

Syler shrugged, "I didn't ask for them. The people of Thwrud are going to have to learn to live with having a foreign born blacksmith who doesn't care about power or politics in charge of things. I am sure we can come to some sort of arrangement where the lesser nobility runs things in my absence."

 

"You can't just walk off and expect things to be okay. These people need a leader and you need to learn how to lead. War is coming and you are going to need an army if we are going to survive this at all."

 

Syler wasn't moved. "I am getting my sister and I don't care what you or the Krue or even the Elements have to say about it. If you don't help me, then get out of the way because I will cut down anyone who tries to stop me from getting her."

 

Growald threw his hands up in the air in disgust. "Have you learned nothin' here, boy?"

 

Syler skewered him with a fiery glare. With pure venom in his voice, he said, "I believe that will be the last time I hear you call me 'boy.' I am done being insulted and mocked by the likes of you. In fact," he looked at Delmonor, "if he calls me 'boy' again, I want you to kill him where he stands."

 

The Kruish warrior smiled happily and slammed a half eaten turkey leg on the table. He tried to say something, but his mouth was full so nobody could understand him.

 

Growald wasn't impressed, and he said so. "You will need a lot more than a drunken Krue to take me on."

 

Lamastus smiled sweetly and said, "Don't worry, Lord Penion here has another hundred and twenty warriors on this estate alone that would be happy to help Delmonor here out. And if they don't get the job done, the two companies of warriors we saw earlier today would likely be willing to give it a shot, though I personally don't think they will be needed."

 

"Lamastus!" admonished Bronwyn with a shove. "Syler wasn't being serious." When her husband didn't respond, she turned to him with wide eyes. "You are serious? You would really kill this man if he insulted you again?"

 

Syler ignored her, but continued to stare at Growald who, in turn, met his glare and returned it. The table was silent for a full minute while the two of them stared each other down. Havert looked nervously between his two friends, clearly not wishing to have to get in between them should another fight break out. If anything, Tald looked ashamed at the actions of his superior and kept his head down and focused on his shuffling food around his plate. Delmonor had already gone back to eating the turkey leg while Alltis and Bronwyn waited silently and perhaps a little bit impatiently for the men to sort things out.

 

At long last, the tension was broken when a mighty guffawing laugh erupted from deep within Growald's chest. He slammed the table causing plates and cups to rattle and continued to howl while Syler remained furious. "There is the man that ya need to be!" exclaimed Growald between fits of laughter. "You have a backbone after all, good to know."

 

"I am not joking with you," replied Syler sourly. "I am quite finished with your jabs and insults."

 

Growald sobered up and shrugged. "Okay then, I will make you a deal. You act like a lord and I will treat you like one. You act like a child, and I will continue to call you 'boy.'"

 

"There are no deals here. Through no small part of your own, I am now lord of this clan and as such, this is my house. I will not suffer insults under my own roof. Is that excessively clear to you, or do I need to carve it in your skull?"

 

Growald's mouth opened to respond, but Bronwyn cut him off. "Enough!" She stood up, planted both fists on the table, and fixed both of them with the same contempt she would give naughty children. "I am tired of this game between you two and it will stop now."

 

"Bronwyn—" Syler sputtered.

 

"No. I know that you two have never gotten along, but I will no longer stand by and watch as the two of you claw at each other like bitter old men or immature young boys."

 

To Growald, she said, "You have done nothing but insult Syler and mock his every move. I understand you had some sort of role to play as this Guardian or whatnot, but that is over. The games are finished and now it is time to be upfront with us all. If you do not stop the petty attacks, you will have to deal with me and I guarantee you, when I am finished with you, you will wish that all you had to worry about were a bunch of Krue."

 

She turned on Syler to catch him in the middle of a smirk. "Don't think you are so above this, Syler Penion. You aren't merely a victim here. You instigate things and take offense at the slightest thing. I think you have a perverse liking to trying to finding the negative in every single little thing that Growald does. You launch your own attacks and push him and all of us as well. It has driven me crazy enough and I have been unconscious through most of it. I can only imagine how wearying it is for everyone else. You are a lord now, and my husband. I will not tolerate your childish feud with Growald, not when we have plenty of enemies and threats elsewhere to deal with."

 

She glared at both of them in turn before asking, "Is that clear?"

 

Growald was first to act by raising his cup saying, "I admit, I was wrong before. You got a good one there, Syler. Treat her well for she is worth it. Very well, my lady, we shall have an end to the ill feelings between us if he is willing."

"Syler?" she asked with a demanding arched brow.

 

Syler worked his jaw back and forth a few times before blowing the air out of his lungs and sagging a little in defeat. "Okay, you are right. I will stop the bickering and move on. He has been a help to me even if I didn't like how he did it."

 

It wasn't completely what she wanted, but Bronwyn was satisfied. She nodded once and sat back down. "Now that that is settled, we can talk about going after Karusa."

 

"Syler, my friend," Lamastus said, "you know I completely support going after your sister, but there is something you need to consider."

 

"And what is that," replied Syler suspiciously.

 

"Your leg. I have seen wounds like that fester and they can cause men to lose a leg or worse. Since mages can't work their healing magic on you, you have no choice but to let the leg heal naturally."

 

Syler didn't respond to that for several moments before pounding his fist on the table in frustration. "I don't know why I didn't think of that," he admitted. "I have been so exhausted and focused on surviving people trying to kill me or my friends that I didn't even consider my leg stopping me."

 

"It hasn't stopped you, dear," Bronwyn said soothingly as she lay her hand over his. "It just has slowed you down a bit."

 

Lamastus cleared his throat and said, "That is where I come in."

 

"How?" asked Syler.

 

"Well, it could take a few weeks for that leg to fully heal up and that isn't a bad thing. Lord Saekoris and, as much as it pains me to admit, Growald were right about your future. There are too many coincidences and unexplained things going on to ignore. You are needed here to solidify your authority and make sure nobody tries to kill us all when we get Karusa back. After all, we are going to need a safe place to live and right now, the safest place I know of is here among the Krue."

 

"What are you suggesting, Angvardi?" grumbled Growald.

 

"I am suggesting that you send me ahead to infiltrate the garrison at See Sei and figure out where they took Karusa. That may take some time, but I can do it and have the information by the time you have healed up and taken care of things here. We could meet somewhere, say five miles west of See Sei and head off after her when you are ready."

 

"That sounds quite dangerous," commented Alltis. "What if they discover you?"

 

Lamastus shrugged. "I am an Angvardi and a charming one at that, if I may say so." He ignored Growald's short of derision and continued on. "I think I can talk my way out of anything that comes my way. Plus, if you would remember, I have the vambrace that the governor's operative was wearing. I should be able to bluff my way through posing as one of his operatives. Nobody questions those men because they have the authorization to kill anyone they deem necessary."

 

"You would do this for me?" said Syler softly.

 

All humor left Lamastus' expression and he said with solid conviction, "Of course I would. I pledged to help you find her and so I shall. You may not believe it, but I have come to believe that you are indeed someone special, someone worth fighting for. It might not have been explicitly said before, so I will say it now."

 

He clasped his right fist over his heart and said loudly and clearly, "I, Lamastus Fean, do hereby proclaim my sworn oath to serve you, Lord Syler Penion, and to follow your commands and the commands of your heirs until you have no more need of me or death claims me."

 

"Just dandy," muttered Growald as he slapped his face with his palm. "Just don't you go expectin' me to preen like that." A look from Bronwyn cut off anything else he might have said.

 

Syler ignored Growald's comments entirely. His attention was on the black haired Angvardi that had just pledged his service to him. "That means a lot more than you may know, Lamastus. I accept your oath and service and hope to live up to your expectations."

 

"Do I hafta do it?" whined Havert. "Ya know I am always with ya."

 

Syler smiled, "Havert, you crazy lout, I didn't give you a choice whether or not to follow me. You are stuck since you are the one who got me into this trouble in the first place."

 

Havert placed his hands on his hips and asked pointedly, "And how do ya figure that?"

 

With a jerk of his thumb in the direction of Growald, Syler explained jovially, "It was you who pointed Growald here my way. Without him, I wouldn't be here among the Krue or stuck with a lordship title."

 

"But then ya wouldn't have Bronwyn without Growald," the redhead retorted.

 

Syler huffed at that which elicited a chuckle from the Seinari. "That doesn't mean that you and he didn't get us all into this mess."

 

"Things could be worse," Alltis pointed out. "We could still be out on the road, near starving, and close to freezing to death. This may put us in danger, but it is a danger we can overcome together."

 

"Very true," admitted Syler. "I am grateful to the both of you for staying at my side when you could have had an easier time off on your own."

 

"We couldn't just go off and leave ya on yer own with Bronwyn as she was."

 

Syler shook his head in disagreement. "But you could have, and you didn't. That is why I owe you a both a major debt of gratitude."

 

Delmonor let out a large belch that drew the attention of the entire table. At the sound of silence, he looked up to see what was happening. As soon as he figured out it was because of him, he looked as sheepish as a fierce, red splattered warrior could and managed to mumble, "Fuswau," before finding something interesting in the bottom of his cup to stare at.

 

Eager to get back onto his previous suggestion, Lamastus asked, "So, will you let me go and find where your sister is?"

 

"If you think you can do it, then who am I to say no? You can leave when you are ready and we will meet you five miles due west from See Sei as soon as we can get there."

 

"Excellent. I will wait for you until the end of the month. If you haven't shown by then, I will assume something went wrong on your end and try to make my way back here. Likewise, if you haven't heard from me by then, assume I was captured or killed and try your own luck at finding her."

 

"That sounds good. I will make sure Torrvel supplies you with whatever you need and that there is an escort to get you out of Subeleth without problems. Delmonor, would that pose any problems?"

 

There was quiet while the warrior swallowed a mouthful of grilled potato cubes. When he was done and had washed it down with a gulp of ale, he answered, "No, bwet ley. As inthaley, you have the ability to send anyone along the public roads to the border. Per law, no clan may attack or interfere with any other clan's members on the public roads unless they have declared war upon them."

 

"Wait," asked Syler. "Are you telling me that clans declare war on each other?"

 

The bearded warrior nodded eagerly, "Yes, and quite often. You pandraukhinti might think we Krue are united, but that is only against threats from outside. There is always fighting between the clans for many reasons. Right now, there are at least two wars going on that I know about."

 

Syler was scratching his beard thoughtfully while taking this in. "I never knew. Is there anyone that is at war with Thwrud?"

 

"None at the moment, but I would watch out for the Larossi. Them never did like us and want our eastern farmlands."

 

"Thank you for the information," Syler replied darkly. A thought occurred to him, "What is your part in all of this, Delmonor? Why did you get assigned to me and why have you stuck around?"

 

The warrior blinked a few times and tried to clean his grease covered hands on his chest. "I was a bolder, a guard, for Lord Saekoris, one of many. I think I was picked because I know the Outsiders Tongue from when me osraph taught me."

 

"Your what?" asked Syler.

 

"His father," answered Bronwyn.

 

Delmonor nodded, "Yes, me father. He was curious about pandraukhinti, foreigners like yourself and I learned some of your tongue from him. Lord Saekoris encouraged it so I studied it when I was serving him. I guess I am part of your guard now, so I am at your command."

 

"What are your feelings toward me and this situation? More importantly, can I trust that you are loyal to me?"

 

The warrior staggered to his feet causing his wooden chair to screech along the floor. "Bwet ley, kae vsu bwosarotes althirse, khadordosotes fauhse. I serve you with all of my honor." When he was done, he nodded in self satisfaction and sat back down.

 

Though he was growing tired of having to ask, he felt it was better to do so and know than to remain in ignorance. "What did you say at first?"

 

This time, it was Lamastus who answered, "He pledged himself to you saying what can be translated as 'bowing before, standing behind.' I have heard that pledge before from those who live in Dunhavo and West Angrava, just not in Kruish." When Syler arched an brow toward his friend questioningly, he explained. "We managed to come upon a small group of Kruish warriors who were fleeing Subeleth. They surrendered to us and, between one of our Kutii captives and one of the warriors who knew a little of the Common Tongue, we managed to communicate. They pledged themselves to the Way and Angvard in exchange for their freedom. That is one of the things they all said when swearing their oaths."

 

"No true man of the People would ever abandon Subeleth," Delmonor protested.

 

"Maybe not," Lamastus admitted, "but that doesn't change the fact that those men did. Maybe they lost one of the wars you just mentioned and had to flee for their lives."

 

Delmonor crossed his arms across this barrel chest and said dourly, "Then they are not Krue, but are now lesser men."

 

"Lesser like me?" asked Syler caustically. "Am I a lesser man for not being born a Krue or following your ways?"

 

The warriors eyes widened and he quickly stammered, "Dalmabwes, bwet ley, I meant no offense. Forgive my outburst, it was gakrellea of me."

 

"Do your people truly think that other races are lesser?" prodded Syler. He recalled Lord Yaegran's opposition to his taking over as a foreigner and was curious exactly how far that xenophobia extended.

 

"Yes, many do," admitted Delmonor. "My osraph did not believe so, but he was mocked for it. I made myself a strong warrior to escape such mockery and was gladdened to be accepted into the inthaley's service."

 

"And you?"

 

With a gulp, he said, "I try to see men for what they do. There are strong men and weak men among all races. You are a strong man, the strongest I have ever seen."

 

Syler accepted that with a single nod. It was probably the best he was going to get from him tonight. As long as he followed orders and treated his friends with respect, he didn't much care if the warrior thought his people were better than others. In some aspects, they were, but the Krue still had a lot that he thought needed correcting.

 

He turned his attention to Growald and asked him, "What are your plans?"

 

He gave one of his characteristic shrugs and replied, "I mean to stay and watch you to make sure you don't get into trouble. After all, I am your Guardian, so I figure I might as well as guard you."

 

"Oh joy," Syler murmured mirthlessly. "I suppose you could be of use since I think I can trust you and your men not to try to take my authority. That might prove useful if things get dangerous."

 

"Those men aren't loyal to you," Growald pointed out. "They are loyal to the Seinari and to the Kingdom. Some may be interested in helping you out, but they aren't like me. If you don't give them a reason to believe that you will help their cause, then they will leave at the first moment."

 

"If they leave without my permission, they will get themselves killed," said Syler.

 

"Yes, which is why they haven't left yet. They didn't intend on coming here, but we didn't much have a choice what with being surrounded by Krue. I suggest you weed out the ones who have no interest in you and send them off tomorrow with Lamastus."

 

"That sounds like so much fun," moaned the Angvardi.

 

"Don't worry," replied Syler. "I will send a few warriors to keep them in line."

 

Lamastus didn't seem convinced, "Just make sure the warriors aren't going to let them slit my throat when I sleep."

 

"I think ya can survive," Growald said sardonically. "Just use your fancy tongue to weasel yourself out of everything."

 

"Don't worry, I will make sure they know of the situation," Syler interjected reassuringly before Lamastus could return the insult. He frowned and noticed someone had been rather quiet. "Tald, what about you?"

 

The farmhand turned soldier looked uncomfortable in the center of attention, but he didn't shrink away. "I joined with the lieutenant here to help fight off the Angvardi and free our home. I wasn't never a soldier before, just a conscript like you and Havert. Looking around, I see a lot of potential here to help a lot. I ain't got any family nor much tying me down back in Sei, so I suppose I could stay here with you if you would have me."

 

When Growald didn't object, Syler nodded. "I would be honored to have you. You were always kind to us and even when the others weren't and I respect that. Stay with me and I will make sure you are put to good use helping people. That doesn't mean that we are going to abandon our homeland. I have no love for the Angvardi or the Terulans, not after what they did to our king and us personally. Mark my words, if I have any say in it, we will throw them back into the East and leave them to rot there."

 

Lamastus shifted uncomfortably at that, but he kept his mouth shut. Growald and Havert seemed pleased, as did the women. Tald himself nodded with a small smile gracing his lips. "That sounds very good, my lord."

 

Syler lifted a finger, "One thing, don't call me 'my lord' or 'lord' or any of that nonsense. We are countrymen and that means you call me Syler. If you really have to be formal, call me 'Mr. Penion' as that is my name."

 

"I can do that, sir," answered Tald with a look of caution. When Syler only rolled his eyes without correcting him, he relaxed a little.

 

They had a casual conversation for the next half hour, but by then even Delmonor had managed to eat and drink his fill and was beginning to look uncomfortable. Syler stood up and winced as the pain in his leg returned with a vengeance. He quickly regained control of himself and said, "I think it is time to retire. My leg needs tending to and some of you will be traveling tomorrow so you need to get some rest."

 

There were a few groans of relief, mainly from Delmonor and Lamastus who both were beginning to get antsy. The guests beat a hasty retreat with servants who showed them to their rooms. That left only Syler and Bronwyn in the feast hall, though they weren't alone for long.

 

"Bwet ley, is there anything I may do for you?" Torrvel asked.

 

Syler didn't immediately respond because he was busy trying not to pass out. Standing up had been a bad idea entirely. He had been mostly okay while sitting down, but once he rose, the blood rushed down and his calf was throbbing once more.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Bronwyn responded for him, "We wish to retire to our chambers. Please make sure that there are fresh bandages and poultices sent as quickly as possible."

 

Torrvel gave Syler one glance and bowed before rushing off to relay orders. A servant who had been waiting at the door helped Bronwyn get Syler to an entirely massive room that was to be their quarters. The room itself was larger than their entire house in Kubei had been and was far more ornate and richly furnished than anything Syler had been in before. If the guest room they spent last night in had been opulent, this was profanely excessive in its finery.

 

Whether it was done by orders from him or after he had died, all of the personal things that Syler expected Lord Saekoris to have were not present. While the room was completely furnished, it was full of things that were new, unused, and had no personal wear on them. He didn't know why, but that saddened him a little.

 

Syler leaned him back on a small leather couch and propped his leg up on a footstool. Gently, Bronwyn removed his boot and tore off his pants up to the mid-thigh. Even if he had managed to wash up a little before supper, he was still filthy from the two fights he had been in. With loving care, she removed the bloody bandages and started cleaning his leg and wound. Every time he hissed in pain, she winced with him, but she was resolved to continue her work.

 

"You know," she said, after a few minutes of work, "it was a lot easier last time. At least then, you didn't have any actual wounds."

 

Syler smiled at the memory of her cleaning him after his first fight with Growald. He had been slightly embarrassed at the time, but the incident had brought them close. It was the first time he realized that she saw him as more than just an intruder, but as a partner.

 

She smiled down at him and he saw her perfect white teeth. "At least the stitches held."

 

"Yes, we can be grateful for that."

 

There was a polite knock at the door. When Bronwyn answered it, Torrvel was there with a basket full of fresh bandages and several poultices wrapped in thin cloth pouches that could be easily spread over the wound. "Kaeboutua," she said in gratitude as she took the basket.

 

"Does bwet leya require assistance?" the saledaur asked hesitantly.

 

"Fao, we will be fine without you," she responded before closing the door. After all that had happened today and all the people fluttering around offering help or leading them places, she wanted her husband to herself tonight.

 

"Did you know there is a full bath here?" Syler said when she returned to him. He pointed to the opposite side of the room from the door and added, "I think it even has one of those running fountains in it."

 

Bronwyn placed her hands on her hips and said mockingly, "You mean to say that you don't want me to give you another sponge bath?"

 

Syler frowned at the quip. He would normally have been more than willing to play her game, but today's events and the pain from his calf left him in no mood for a repeat of this morning. "Not tonight," he said sullenly. At the disappointment in his wife's eyes, he reached up and pulled her down into a kiss. When they broke it, he whispered to her, "I am sorry, but I just want to get this bandage changed and go to sleep."

 

She went back to tending his leg and said, "I understand. I have never killed anyone before, so I can't begin to imagine how it feels."

 

"It isn't so much that," said Syler. "It is why I have to kill. Yes, I regret killing Lord Saekoris. There was so much that I could have learned from him and he had done nothing to harm us. I had no qualms about killing the Shalktra or the priests in the Temple. They all deserved what they got. I don't even mind killing Lord Yaegran. He didn't leave me too much of a choice and was a bastard anyway."

 

He winced as she applied a fresh poultice onto the wound, but that didn't stop him from continuing. "What I regret is being manipulated into the situation in the first place. The Shalktra took you because of prophecy and their desire to get to me, so I had to go and kill them to free you. The Elements force me to do their bidding in order to gain your life back. Then the Krue take me and force me to fight a man who had done me no wrong because of prophecy. That in turn places me into a position where I think a lot of people are going to get killed in opposing me because of some very valid reasons. I am an outsider, a foreigner, and now because of prophecy, their old and respected lord sacrificed himself to put me into power.

 

"Why? Why is all of this happening? Because of prophecy. Because some old men with grey hair scratched some words on parchment and called it the future. Maybe it was one of the Immortals that actually sent it, but that makes it no better. I am just a pawn to the Immortals just as I am a prize to the Angvardi and the Terulans and the Krue. Even Growald had ulterior motives when dealing with me. I am tired of being a mere pawn or a prize, forced to go whichever way others want me to. I haven't been free since before the Angvardi invaded and I am high tired of playing the games of others."

 

Bronwyn was silent for a time as she finished wrapping up his leg. When she spoke, her voice was strained, "I did not know you had to trade your freedom to save me."

 

Syler let out a deep breath and said soothingly, "It was a sacrifice I was willing to make because living without you or Karusa is not life. I made the deal to save your life in exchange for the Elements not harming my friends or interfering in my attempts to get my sister. My part of the bargain was that I was to accept their handpicked destiny for my life. It was a tradeoff I felt was fair, even if it means I must play their game."

 

"You shouldn't have done that for me."

 

"There are a lot of things I shouldn't have done, but that was not one of them. One way or another, I will make them regret forcing me to do their bidding. They think they have a pliable, ignorant blacksmith to use, but they will find that my patience with all of them goes only so far." There was a hardness in Syler's eyes as he spoke. Without noticing it, he had clenched his hands into fists and was tensing up. "Once I have my sister and my friends are safe, everyone will start playing a new game: my game. I don't think that it is a game they will be expecting and, for anyone who crosses me, I do not expect they will like it much."

[DarthBrendo]

saledaur

 

This is a title, shouldn't it be capitalised?

 

Syler reminds me somewhat of Rand al'Thor in the early parts of the Wheel of Time series, when he is just learning of his role as a ta'averen, and he doesn't want it, yet knows that he must continue. This certainly opens thing up in terms of giving more of a 'life' to the Syler Team as you put it.

[Travis]

Saledaur is no more a title than "servant" would be. It is merely a description of what he is like "warrior" or "guard." In some instances, I may capitalize it if I connect it to his name, much in the way we capitalize "Lord" only when in reference to a specific name (or God) like "Lord Black was lord of many lands."

 

About no new chapters, I lied. I really meant "no new chapters covering Syler and Co." There will be at least one new chapter on Raella and great expansions of others (which get partial chapters) coming up in the break while Syler is recovering.

[DarthBrendo]

Ah fair enough.

[Travis]

This chapter was a little hard to write at first. I knew that I wanted to get another Raella chapter in, but I wasn't completely sure what to do with her. I came upon the idea for the first section pretty quickly because I wanted to show a bit more of Nilgeth (the guy who approached Valnic about rebellion after his hands had been burned by the Empress) and give an example of how Raella's clairvoyant abilities work (a small one, at least).

 

Then, over the weekend, while out hunting and away from a computer, the idea hit me. Why not use her to show the Wayic view of the Immortal Realm and the Great Desolation of Zazasp? We got the Kruish version from Lord Saekoris several chapters back, so why not the Wayic version? I already had a good deal about it prepared in my notes, but I had planned to save its revelation to the next book. I threw that out of the window and decided to just for it now and use it later on to flesh out Raella a bit and give her some purpose beyond being a pawn in Amberis' power games.

 

Let me know what you think.

 

 

_________________

 

 

 

Chapter 30

 

• Born of two worlds and heir to both, there is a great weight upon the shoulders of the newborn Princess Raella of Unity. She is the source of hope for peace between two nations who have been at war for centuries. I do not envy the burdens she will have to accept when she is older. For now, let us all hope that she can enjoy her childhood before the crushing pressure of her birthright befalls her.
   
  — High Priest Grazam, October 8, 1031 3E

 

Imperial Palace

Angvard City

Angvardi Empire

October 8

 

Raella didn't like Ambassador Nilgeth. It may have been her gift of clairvoyance or simply the way his eyes always seemed to be on her, but she didn't feel comfortable around him. Her mother always told her to trust her instincts and right now, hers were telling her that he was nothing but trouble. She had no choice but to sit still upon her throne and accept his well wishes and gifts on behalf of Lord Zirtaellin, governor of Malorez, even if she didn't want them.

 

It was her birthday today and all of the nobility and prominent individuals of Angvard were here to pay their respects and give lavish gifts. Normally, her birthdays were big affairs in the city, second only to the Empress' and First Day, but this year, those events were going to be nothing compared to the lavishness that her mother had planned for her. No expense was spared and nearly all of the governors and most of the major lords and ladies had made the trip to the capital to pay their respects. The palace guest rooms were packed full of partygoers and its halls were always lively with servants working to make sure everyone was happy.

 

The reason for the extravagance was because she had been born eighteen years ago on this day. As per Angvardi law and tradition, eighteen was the age by which any ruler could come into their birthright. If her mother hadn't still been alive, she would have had a regent until today when she could be coronated. As it was, since Empress Celienna was still alive, Raella was to be given her first real authority.

 

As a way to prepare her for leading the Unified Kingdoms, she was to be given ladyship of Palethstad, a proud and prosperous city on the mouth of the Bolseon River far to the east. The lord of the city had died three years ago without a suitable heir so the territory fell directly to the Crown. Her mother decided not to appoint a new lord over it in order to give it to her daughter when she came of age. Raella had never been to Palethstad before, but she would be journeying there after visiting her father in Terula. She wouldn't stay there for long, but she would have to form a small court and start dealing with the matters of the city as any lady would.

 

Before she could do that, though, she had to survive the endless parade of well wishers who were giving her gifts, including men like the ambassador.

 

"I am so dreadfully sorry to have to inform the Princess that Lord Zirtaellin is too ill to have made the journey to personally deliver you his gifts and express his hope that you will become the most pivotally important empress we have ever seen," Ambassador Nilgeth said in his silky smooth voice that always made her feel dirty.

 

As much as she disliked the man, she knew that a princess and a member of the Imperial family must sometimes put on a smile even when they don't feel like it. Ignoring the fact that she wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at, she had do what was expected of her. With a well practiced smile, she replied, "I understand, Ambassador. It gets cold in Malorez this time of year and I would not wish Lord Zirtaellin to risk his health for the sake of a simple birthday."

 

Nilgeth's blue eyes blinked slowly as he bowed with a flourish of his hand. "You are most gracious, my princess. Truly, you will only become stronger and wiser as you grow older."

 

"We can only hope for the sake of us all if the prophets are right," Raella responded while trying not to let the smile plastered on her face waver.

 

At this, he smiled on one side of his mouth and responded, "The prophets and the priests, Princess. Both have said the end is nigh for us. How exciting it must be to think that you might be the last of the Angvardi empresses before the Coming Darkness arrives to change things forever."

 

"Exciting" wasn't exactly the word that Raella would have used. "Terrifying" would have been more appropriate, but she knew not to say as much. "Indeed, I am honored that the gods would believe me capable of leading those of the Way in such a harrowing time."

 

"Well," he said with a conspiratorial wink that turned her stomach, "I for one am glad that our future is in such capable hands." He bowed deeply and back off to allow the next guest to address her.

 

She was grateful that he was gone because as soon as he was, her stomach settled down and she felt a little more comfortable. The next petitioner was some minor noble from Kildar Province whose name she didn't even bother trying to remember. She just smiled and handed out generic greetings and various platitudes that really required little thought. The next two hours passed by the same way without anything truly memorable happening. The brief conversation with Ambassador Nilgeth was the only thing that stuck in her mind and that disturbed her greatly.

 

After the presentation of the gifts, she was supposed to go and give her blessings to the five newly formed legions that were being sent to the Western Campaigns to help with the invasion of the Koshi. She begged off of doing that saying that she felt the need to spend some time in the presence of the gods to thank them for their many blessings. Though her mother had not been pleased, she allowed it.

 

With her personal guard in tow, Raella walked through the beautiful, rosebush lined path that led between the Imperial Palace and the Temple of Eternal Remembrance, headquarters of the Tetrand of Angvard and home of the four High Priests. The path was a private one used only by nobility and the Empress' guests and most of them right now were at the various venues of entertainment offered in honor of her birthday, so the way was almost empty. She didn't mind because she loved looking at the marble and granite pillars with their hanging vines and the beautiful white flowers that grew on them. She always thought they complemented the lush red roses that lined the entire path quite well and wished that more places in the palace were decorated this way.

 

When she reached the Noble's Gate, a side entrance closed to the general public, she paused to abase herself before the statues of the Tetrarchy over the door in preparation for her entrance. As she did, she remembered how, during the terribly dark days of the War of Lost Prophecy, when the war was going ill for Angvard, the High Priests and the prophets declared all was lost unless proper supplication was made on behalf of the emperor and the people of Angvard. After three weeks of negotiations, threats, and bargains, an accord was struck by which the crown would pay for the construction of a magnificent, towering temple to honor the gods and show the regret over the attack on the prophets in Malorez by soldiers under orders from Emperor Caterin. Part of the deal was that the temple would forever be the tallest structure in Angvard City and that any addition made to the Imperial Palace must also have one and a half times the value of the expansion donated to the temple. It was a steep price to pay, but it had restored the balance between the emperor and the gods and allowed Angvard to survive the war even if it lost all of its territory south of the Great River Tuo.

 

It was a lesson that all subsequent emperors and empresses of Angvard held close to their heart. That single defiance of Wayic law had cost Angvard dearly and cost her superiority in the East. Caterin's line was nearly destroyed with only his second son, Plunark, surviving the bloody assassinations and terror. Emperor Plunark humiliated himself and the entire Imperial family in order to survive and end the civil war. Angvard had managed to pull together after a long struggle and remain as an empire with only southern lands being lost to Terula.

 

Despite saving the Imperial line and possibly the empire as a whole, he was considered an outcast by later generations and looked down upon. Raella didn't like that because, in her mind, he did what was right in bowing before the gods and putting the benefit of the Angvardi people before his own. That was the duty of all rulers: to protect those they had been entrusted to rule. Still, she knew enough to keep that opinion to herself and not mention it to anyone lest her mother hear and punish her with hours of ranting from various historians and advisors.

 

With her initial prayers completed, Raella opened the giant silver doors and went into the temple. Her guards were forbidden on such hallowed ground and remained outside, waiting for her return. The lack of guards didn't mean she was alone, princesses were never truly alone. There were two of the Crystal Guard, protectors of the Way, who immediately came to attention at her presence and fell in behind her as escort. An acolyte greeted her and directed her along the path to the Chapel of Mewela, her patron goddess. She knew the way well, but it was required that there be an escort for her within these parts of the Temple.

 

Before they could reach her destination, a heavily robed figure stepped out of a small alcove and into the light. Raella gasped and quickly genuflected at the sight of High Priest Brogath, the mortal representative of the god Tantis in Angvard. "Your Grace," she said breathlessly, "I did not see you there."

 

Brogath rested his hand atop her head. As soon as his fingers touched her glossy black hair, a tingle crept up and down her back. Her fingers and toes went numb for a second before she felt tiny pins pricking into them. She had met the High Priest of their supreme god once before that she could remember, though she was told that his predecessor had presided over her naming when she had been born.

 

When she briefly met him years ago, he hadn't touched her or done anything except nod wish her a pleasant day. Now that he had, it was as though the power of the god whom he represented was flowing straight into her. On the surface, she felt insignificant and worthless, but that sensation was only fleeting. After the initial chilling contact, a great warmth sprang up from within her heart and spread throughout her body. She felt safe, entirely content, and happy like she hadn't since she was a girl and knew nothing of the world's troubles.

 

When the High Priest spoke, his voice was as the wind flowing through the leaves of the Angrava Forest or water trickling through the fountains that surrounded the Palace. It was the most perfect voice she could ever imagine. "You were not meant to, child. I saw you walking down the hall and wished to convey the personal blessings of Tantis the Founder."

 

Raella trembled at the very thought that the great god who established the laws of the universe and of Order itself would think to spend even a second considering one as insignificant as her. "I am not worthy to be blessed by him."

 

With her head still bowed, she couldn't see him smile. "None of us are worthy, that is what makes the gods so special. It is through their love of us that they can tolerate our imperfections and flaws. Knowing of their great love, how can we not serve them with all of our hearts?"

 

"We cannot do anything less," the princess replied.

 

"Yet there are many who live in ignorance and do not know of the great love the gods offer," Brogath pointed out. He lifted his hand from Raella and clasped both of his hands together in front of him.

She lifted her head to gaze up at him, "How could they not know? The priests say that recognition of the superiority of the gods is within us all even if we do not acknowledge it."

 

Regret changed the High Priest's face and broke Raella's heart. His eyes which had been so full of strength moments before took on a glossy appearance full of concern. His eyelids dropped in loss to cover most of his eyes. His cheeks, once lifted by a warm smile, drooped in defeat. With a discreet wave of his hand, he dismissed the acolyte who had been escorting her leaving the two of them alone in the gloriously decorated hallway.

 

His voice tried to remain strong, but emotion got the better of him, "I am afraid that so many in Teladia have been so long deceived by their false and spiteful gods that their hearts no longer can hear the quiet whisper of the Tetrarchy. They have been calloused to the love the true gods feel for them by the spite and apathy of their own pale religions. They are blind men marching aimlessly towards their destruction."

She had always known this truth deep down, but to hear it from the High Priest himself was heartbreaking. Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. "What can we do to save them?"

 

When Brogath hesitated, Raella, without thinking, reached up and grabbed at the hem of his vestments with both hands. "Tell me, Your Grace! Tell me what it is that we can do? What would the gods have of me?"

 

In the urgency of the moment, Brogath ignored her grave breach in protocol. He shook his head and muttered, "No, I should not tell you. It is not my place…"

 

"Tell me what?" Raella pleaded. "Please, I must know what the gods want for me to do!"

 

The High Priest paused before swallowing hard. "I was not to tell you this because we are not sure what it means." Raella went perfectly still and, not wanting to miss a single syllable, made no noise whatsoever. "The Prophets have confirmed it this news, but we have not yet released it to the public. Only a few people know of it, including Her Imperial Majesty." A look that might have been fear flickered on his face, but it passed before he could be overcome and stopped.

 

He bent down to where his mouth was only an inch from her ear, "The One has been confirmed."

 

Raella nearly fainted with the news. Her arms felt like jelly and fell to her sides in shock. The world around her spun with the magnitude of what she had just heard and she knew nothing would ever be the same again. She had grown up hearing whispered stories of the mysterious Master of Magic and that his arrival heralded the ending of the world and the Coming Darkness. Some of the things she had overheard or managed to read from forbidden books gave her nightmares for weeks.

 

"What… what does this mean?" she whispered.

 

Brogath composed himself enough to reply, "It means that we have so little time to reach all the lost souls before the Coming Darkness judges us all. If we are not Unified, we will all be lost. I fear that we are not doing enough and that our efforts will be for naught."

 

This shocked her almost as much as hearing of the One. "But, my mother and father are doing everything they can to bring Unity to the Western heathens."

 

"Yes, they are trying," he replied, though he wasn't convinced. "I do not believe that they are doing enough. The progress is too slow and our time is too short. There aren't enough men or money being put toward Unification."

 

Now there was confusion on the young woman's face. "But, we were told that our campaigns had the blessing of the gods themselves."

 

Brogath nodded at this, but his eyes were still sad. "And yet, our efforts clearly aren't enough. We have yet to fully subjugate the Koshi or the Gopea and the Krue remain untouched. The gods have shown us that the One is now among us and yet, we are not ready. Tell me, child, when the gods decree something and it doesn't work, where does the fault lie?"

 

There was only one answer to that. "With us. We have failed the gods themselves and are doomed for it." The tears that had been forming now flowed freely down her cheeks.

 

When he saw that, Brogath gently cupped her face and lifted her up to look into his warm eyes. "Do not despair, not all hope is lost."

 

"What can we do then?"

 

"We can pray, child. That much is obvious. We should sacrifice more of our time and efforts to carrying out Unification. We do not have the time to allow petty bickering or rivalries to stay our hand. More troops are needed to crush the heathen's resistance. More money is needed to train, equip, and sustain those troops. The pious must be taught so that they could become priests and carry the Way to those whom our armies have conquered."

 

"I can speak with my mother!" exclaimed Raella excitedly as she rushed to her feet and started back up the hall from where she came.

 

The High Priest grabbed her wrist and held on firmly. "No," he said forcefully but not harshly. "I must apologize if I gave you the impression that I thought Her Imperial Majesty was withholding her efforts. I do not believe that she could do any better than she is, but that is simply not enough."

 

"Then what can I do?"

 

"You must speak to your father. The King of Terula holds great power, especially when he is united with his beloved wife and daughter. When you travel south next month, you must do all that you can to get them to jointly pledge more troops and money to Unification. I know politics and the hard hearts of men, child, and I know that if your mother were to try to send more troops, the lords would protest that the Terulans were not doing the same. However, if both were to jointly declare a renewed push in the Unity Campaigns, then all would have to join them. There would be no excuse but to go along with it.

 

"Together, in the warm South of Terula, you will not be hindered by the winter up here in the North. With a little more effort, the Terulans should be able to bring Unity to all of the Westerners in the South and then send their armies up north to help prepare for the push against the Krue."

 

He took her shoulders and gently shook them. His eyes gazed straight into her soul and his voice was more insistent now than at any time during their conversation. "The Krue, my dear Raella. They are the key and they must be brought into Unity or all will be lost."

 

"What is so special about the Krue?" asked Raella.

 

Brogath stared at her for a few seconds. His eyes went back and forth between each of her eyes as though he were searching for something that only they could tell him. Another chill ran down her spine as she wondered if a High Priest could do exactly that, but she remained silent waiting for his response.

 

When he at last spoke, he did so in a quiet whisper. "Because the Master of Magic, the one man who can save us all, is currently among them. He is their puppet and has unknowingly fallen into their web of lies and deceit. They wish to destroy us and the Way so that their pagan Spirit gods may be released and cover all of Teladia in darkness and despair."

 

Raella was aghast. "How could anyone ever want that?"

 

"The Krue know no better for they have been blinded. They believe that their Spirits are benevolent and equal to the Tetrarchy, but they have been deceived." He looked from side to side and pulled her into the alcove he had emerged from minutes ago.

 

"Listen to my words, child, for in them lie the last hope for all mortals.

 

"Before the start of time, the god Tantis saw that his wife, Mewela, was saddened. When he asked her why she shed tears, she told him that, while she loved him and their companions. Tantis dearly loved his wife and could not bear to see her suffer as such, so he called forth the other gods and they sought a way to alleviate her suffering. After a long discussion, they determined that it was time to create more beings for Mewela to love and who would return her to happiness. Like all beings, each god had their own skills and strengths, so each took upon themselves a role in the creation of these new children.

 

"Tantis was the most logical, so he determined how the realm of these children would behave, the laws of nature, and what would be proper. He became known as Tantis the Founder because he founded the laws upon which everything is based upon.

 

"Featwel was always the most mild mannered and agreeable of the gods. He preferred things to be in balance and strove to make sure all flowed in temperance without excess that could disrupt the laws established by Tantis. For this, he was named Featwel the Uniter because he brought unity and harmony to everything.

 

"Salgeus was the strongest of them and was the most capable of ensuring longevity in the new realm through his fervent dedication to his fellow gods and the plan they created. He gave this new creation his own attribute of courage, determination, and his vigor for life itself. He is now known as Salgeus the Sustainer because it is through his strength and gifts that the realms are sustained and life can go on without withering and dying.

 

"Mewela, being the only woman among the gods, was the only one with the capacity to create. When the other gods presented their plan to her, she was delighted and immediately set out to create this new realm with the help of the others. We know not how long it took to create, but when it was done, she became Mewela the Former for it was her that formed the entirety of creation."

 

Brogath paused and looked down to see if Raella was still paying attention. She was hanging on every word in awe, but after decades of teaching, he could sense a question buried within her. "Speak now, my child, what troubles you?" he asked gently.

 

Raella blinked several times and blushed. She looked down and nervously fidgeted with her hands. She didn't want to answer, but she could not ignore the order from the High Priest. She spoke hesitantly, fearing to be rebuked. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but that is a story that all children are taught from the earliest age. Why would you spend your precious time retelling it to me when there are so many other important things that plague Teladia?"

 

Instead of growing angry, the High Priest smiled. "I tell you because it is time for you to hear the full story, not just what the commoners know. O Princess, be careful whom you tell these words to. There are many who would object to my doing this, and they are not people that even someone of my station can easily ignore."

 

The hair on Raella's arms stuck up and the back of her neck tingled at those words. She didn't dare interrupt him to ask who in Angvard could cause the High Priest of Tantis the Founder, mightiest of all of the gods, to be concerned about their objections. She found herself standing on the balls of her feet in anticipation at this forbidden knowledge that he was imparting to her. This was the type thing that she yearned to hear but was constantly excluded from due to her age and her mother's trying to shelter her.

 

Brogath continued his lesson. "I have told you what the Tetrarchy each contributed to the creation of the realm, but there are many important details I left out, details that are forbidden to speak. I believe it is imperative for you to hear this so that you know why Unity is so critical to our survival.

 

"The story that I have told you is what every child knows as the tale of creation. However, the first thing that most don't know is that the Immortal and Mortal Realms were not created at the same time. The Immortal Realm was created first and existed for a time before our realm was created.

 

"The second thing I have not told you was that the gods weren't always known as the Tetrarchy. That is a term we mortals came up with to describe the four gods. However, at the time before the creation of all, there were five gods."

 

Raella couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Had he told her that he was in truth simply a beggar and that the sky was green and grass blue, she would have believed that before believing that there were five gods. She didn't know what he was doing, but right now, her belief that High Priest Brogath would never tell a lie was coming into conflict with her understanding of the Way and all that she had been taught.

 

Seeing the disbelief in her eyes, Brogath nodded and said, "Yes, it is true. There were indeed five different gods. Before you shut yourself from that truth, listen to the rest of the story. Will you do that for me, my child?"

 

Still hoping that there was truth to this, she nodded. Assured, Brogath continued his story. "The fifth god had a name just as the others, but I shall not profane this holy place by uttering it. Instead, I will refer to him as the name that all within the Way know him as: Chaos." When Raella's eyes grew round, he dipped his head once in affirmation that she had heard him correctly.

 

"The one we now call Chaos was, at this time, considered a friend to the other gods. Like the others, he was part of the creative process that made the Immortal Realm. His gift to the new creation was one that would prove to be the most problematic and indeed, the one he would use to betray the others. He offered the element of choice, the unknown, and that which was not planned. Those that were created, he argued, should not be puppets to the will of the gods for then they would not be children who would love from choice, but rather pets who loved because that was how they were created. He also persuaded the gods that these created beings should not be given the infinite wisdom of the gods and that they should be born able to experience the Unknown and that which they do not know. The other gods, being swayed by Chaos' honeyed words, agreed to this never foreseeing how it would be used against them.

 

"For a time, the gods—at least the four who became the Tetrarchy—were happy with their work. Mewela smiled constantly and was warmly embraced by her new children while Tantis stood by her side, pleased that their plan was working. They lived in peace for an eon, but while the four were satisfied, Chaos was not. He was jealous of the love Mewela had for Tantis and desired her for himself. Because he could never attain her love through normal means, he strayed to the extremes."

 

It struck Raella as odd that the gods would feel such things like love and jealousy. She had never considered that they would share such…mortal…feelings. Her hand went up to the silver, star shaped pendant that hang about her neck just as she did whenever she was nervous or extremely excited. The pendant had been with her for as long as she could remember, but she didn't know who gave it to her. She could hardly believe what she was hearing, but coming from the High Priest, she couldn't question it. If anyone knew what they were talking about, surely it would be him.

 

"His plan was savage, brutal, and would have ramifications that were far reaching," Brogath continued. "If he could not have her through love, he would have her through force. Alone, he could never hope to defeat the four of them, especially Salgeus, but he was crafty and devious. The other gods had but one weakness: their ever growing love for their creations, the Immortals.

 

"Knowing that they had free choice to do as they pleased, he hatched a horrible plan to use the Immortals for his own purposes. One by one, he seduced many of them to do his bidding and start a rebellion against the other gods. He did this by using their inability to see the future to create fear of it. That fear was quickly blamed—wrongly—on the controlling nature of the other gods who didn't want to share power as gods. The Immortals, Chaos claimed, were not beloved children, but were rather slaves created to fawn over the gods. He convinced them that he wanted them to be equals and would help them achieve godhood if they would join him. In truth, he only wanted to take control of the Immortal Realm and use that control over her children to force Mewela to leave Tantis and submit to him as her husband.

 

"Featwel, being a god of harmony, attempted to reach out to the fallen Immortals, but the grip of Chaos' lies were too strong and few were saved. Salgeus the Sustainer was forced to lead massive armies of Immortals against the hordes of corrupted ones and Chaos in a war the likes of which our mortal minds cannot fully comprehend. When it was over, neither side could claim full victory. Chaos and his followers were driven back, but not completely destroyed. They remained in exile, broken and bitter but still a threat.

 

"Chaos had been stopped, but at a terrible price. Because of the war and the fighting they had taken part of, all of the Immortals were tainted. No longer did they have direct access to the gods, but could only interact with them at a distance and for very short periods of time. If Mewela had been saddened by loneliness before creation, she was now utterly devastated at the loss of her children. She went into deep despair and remained alone from the other three gods of the Tetrarchy."

 

"The Book of Mourning," whispered Raella. The book was one of the sacred texts that was attributed to inspiration by the gods. She had always been taught that it was sent to show mortals that the gods understood and sympathized with the sorrows of this world, most specifically to the loss of loved ones. A majority of the most powerful passages were dedicated to consoling parents who had lost children. A bit louder, so he could hear better, she added, "That was about Mewela, wasn't it?"

 

Brogath smiled grimly. "You are a bright child. Yes, most of the Book of Mourning was about Mewela's loss after this great war. I believe that she wanted us mortals to know that not only did they understand sorrow, but that they had experienced it and knew what it was like."

 

"I never knew." Suddenly, she was sad. She was not a mother herself, but she had seen women wailing as news of their son's death in battle reached them. She had seen the haunted looks on the faces of parents who had lost their baby to sickness. She could imagine how horrible it would be to lose her parents.

 

When she was twelve, she had chosen a member of the Tetrarchy to more fully devote herself to. She had chosen Mewela the Former as her patron because she thought at the time that the goddess must have been especially brave and strong to be the only woman among the gods. This revelation totally changed her view of her goddess and made her more real than ever.

 

"As before, Tantis and the other gods were moved by Mewela's suffering and tried to make it better. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't console her. At last, Featwel came up with the idea of creating a new Realm, one in which the Immortals and gods alike were limited within.

 

"The others were skeptical, but in the end, they realized that nothing else was going to ease Mewela's suffering. Once again, each of the gods contributed their skills, but Tantis was not willing to make the same mistake twice. Knowing that Chaos would attack again, Tantis used his power as the creator of laws to make some key changes. Instead of creating immortal beings that could revolt and remain as a thorn in their side forever, he wanted a way to erase these new beings. Thus arose the concept of mortality, something not even Chaos had foreseen.

 

"One of the greatest problems that Mewela faced now was loneliness and separation from her children. Because they knew that any realm created would eventually be tainted by Chaos, the thread of being separated from their Mother would eternally exist and always be at the back of Mewela's mind.

 

"To fix this, Tantis created a new law within the framework of mortality. Yes, these new mortals would eventually die as a safeguard against the eternal rise of evil, but there would be positive thing out of death. Within each mortal resides an immortal soul. The taint of war and corruption would pass on within the mortal flesh, but that immortal soul would live on and be permanently united with the goddess who loves them.

 

"However, as one final safeguard for themselves against those who had fallen to Chaos, Tantis decreed that only those with pure souls could ever be embraced by their Mother. That means that those who loved Mewela and the Tetrarchy in life would be unified with them in death. Within the priestly circles, this concept is called the Unification of Souls, or rather Unity.

 

"This is where we came up with the name for our attempts to bring peace to Teladia and unite all of mankind under the Way. We do this so that all may be brought into the love of Mewela rather than being cast out to dwell in darkness with Chaos.

 

"And now we get to the point of my story and what is so crucial for you to understand. Long ago in the First Era, there was a large and powerful empire. Men in those times had forgotten the gods and turned to pagan religions or the belief in their own strength. The greatest among them, Mizael whom we now call the Foolish, was jealous of the immortality of the other Realm. Through tremendous effort and unimaginably powerful magic, he tore a hole between the Mortal and Immortal Realms with the intent of launching a campaign to steal the secret to immortality and replace the Immortals as the chosen of the gods.

 

"Because their arrogance blinded them, they were unable to see the truth of things until it was too late. Mankind was never meant to be immortal or have the powers those beings wield. They never understood the true purpose of mortality, or indeed that it was the greatest gift the gods could ever have bestowed upon us. The hubris of Mizael and those who were with him would prove to be catastrophic for our Realm.

 

"No matter how strong they may have been, Mizael and his followers were mortals and they could never hope to claim immortality or defeat those who already had it. In their fury at being attacked, the Immortals lashed out at this Mortal Realm and destroyed many of mankind's most beautiful and magnificent cities. Millions were killed in that one sided war before the Tetrarchy stepped in and stopped the infighting. The gods ordered their Immortal children back into their own Realm and sealed the breach between Realms, but not before it was too late and vast portions of land were left desolate forever. We now call this place the Eascand Desert and no water can exist on its surface even to this day.

 

"In his disgust at both the hubris of man and how quickly the Immortals had turned on those who were all but helpless against them, Tantis turned his back on both Realms. Mewela remained loving all of her children, but had grown cautious of what they could do to themselves and kept herself a somewhat of a distance. Featwel, ever the voice of peace and reason, remains to this day as our constant intercessor while Salgeus constantly keeps watch over both Realms for any breach.

 

"Chaos had been delighted at the destruction caused by the Immortals and saw how the gods had been hurt and forced into action. He was inspired by what happened and hatched his latest, darkest plan yet. If he could not win against the immortal Immortals, he might yet have a chance with the mortals. With that in mind, he conspired to open multiple gateways between the Realms and unleash his own fallen Immortals against us in a massive, terrible war. Even if the benevolent Immortals could react and protect us, fighting a war in this fragile Realm would be devastating. This, we know as the Coming Darkness.

 

"We do not know why, but the Tetrarchy could not entirely stop Chaos from bending the laws of Tantis to create the openings. They could only delay them for a time while they warned us and gave us a chance to prepare. What they could do, however, was do a little altering of their own. This resulted in the creation of the One, the Master of Magic, the one individual who could one day soon save us all from the Coming Darkness. But, as part of Chaos' influence in the creation process, the future for our kind is not fixed. We can make choices and influence our destiny. Just as the One may choose to save the world, he may also choose to destroy it."

 

Brogath fixed Raella with an intense stare as he finished up. "Right now, that One is currently under the influence and control of the misguided and deceived Krue. It is imperative that we free him of their webs and allow him to fulfill his purpose in saving us all from Chaos."

 

"How do we do that?" Raella asked.

 

"By conquering the Krue and bringing the message of the Way to them," Brogath answered. "It won't be easy as they are a powerful and determined race, but it must be done. To do that, we must have Terulan forces from the south to boost our armies." He dug a finger into the center of Raella's collarbone. "You, princess, must convince your Royal Father to send Terulan forces north early, before the rest of the South has been brought into Unity. We do not have the luxury of years to complete Unity, we must do it now, before the One has been too corrupted as to no longer know what is truth and what is Chaos' deception."

 

Sadness once again entered the High Prophet's eyes. He placed both of his warm hands on her thin shoulders and said with reluctance, "I wish there was some other way to avoid placing this burden upon one so young as you, but we have no choice. If we are to be saved, we must act quickly and swiftly. Empress Celienna has many men, but not enough. We need the Terulans in order to defeat the Krue and free the One, that much was always known. Now, it is up to you to convince King Rael to send those men north throughout their warm southern winter so that we might be able to march against the Krue in the spring. Only you have a chance to convince him, he would expect everyone else of having a hidden agenda. Can you do this for us all?"

 

Raella gulped and once again fingered her pendant. Her heart was racing within her chest and her palms were sweating. This was what she had always wanted: something important that she could do save her people. "Of course," she said with little hesitation. "I will do my best."

 

"You must do more than your best, my child. You must succeed, the fate of Teladia rests in your hands now."

 

 

 

After escorting the young princess to the Shrine of Mewela for some much needed devotions, High Priest Brogath returned to his private quarters confident that his words had not fallen on deaf ears. The girl would do everything within her power to get the Terulan armies to attack the Krue. At least this had gone well.

 

When he opened the door to the suite that served as his quarters, he was dismayed to see that he had a guest, one he was quite familiar with. "What is it?" he said coldly.

"Did you tell her?" the man asked.

 

"Of course I did. I told her everything that she needed to know, even some things that are dangerous to say."

 

The man leaned forward and placed a hand menacingly on the hilt of a long knife at his belt. "You didn't tell her about the Balance, did you?" Though they were within the heart of the Temple of Eternal Remembrance, the seat of Wayic power in the North, all the guards at Brogath's call would not be able to stop this man before he struck out. Even then, this was not the first time Brogath had been threatened before. In truth, he had no fear of this man because he had a power at his command that was far greater than a steel blade: magic.

 

Instead of cowering, he remained tall and confident if not a little dismissive as he replied, "No. She knows exactly what she needs to know and nothing more. I know the risks involved in what we are doing. She learned a great deal of truth behind Formation, but not everything. Nobody can afford for her to learn of the full story or of the Balance, not yet anyway. I know that probably better than you ever will."

 

The hand slowly slid from the knife hilt as the visitor was satisfied. "Good, then I will see you next season. Until then, I have work to do." With those words, Ambassador Nilgeth left the High Priest's quarters and vanished into the labyrinth that was the temple.

[DarthBrendo]

that you will become the best empress we have ever seen

 

'best' doesn't feel quite right here. It feels too matey, or like slang. Something more formal, or 'classical' like greatest.

 

She didn't dare interrupt him to ask who in Angvard could cause the High Priest of Tantis the Founder, mightiest of all of the gods

 

There's a word missing in this sentence.

 

against the hordes corrupted ones and Chaos

 

...against the hordes of corrupted ones, perhaps?

 

was jealous of the immortality of the other Realm

 

Why is 'realm' capitalised here?

 

he tore a hole between the Mortal and Immortal Realms with the intent of launching a campaign to steal the secret to immortality and replacing the Immortals as the chosen of the gods

 

I think there needs to be a comma between "immortality" and "and", as 'and replacing the Immortals...' is a separate idea to the first part of the sentence.

 

The only other thing I noticed is that you often don't have 'gods' capitalised, even when Raella and Brogath are talking specifically about the Tetrachy Gods. I think double-checking where you have and haven't capitalised gods in this section wouldn't hurt.

 

I think this part being before the Krue are confronted by any armies of 'outsiders' will give that eventual battle more force and depth of story. I like how you're portraying Raella here as well, as a genuine believer of the religion and not just a lip-server. It will make her choices much more interesting down the track I think.

[Travis]

You are a sneaky man, sir. I was in the middle of submitting the changes to your first three suggestions when you must have done something to mess up the server slightly because during your addition of new material, it messed up and said there was no data or something funky. Plus, it doesn't show that I edited even though I did.

 

Well, I was about to get offended that you offered only corrections and didn't react at all to the content, but you fixed that so we are all good.

 

To answer the changes: the first three were either oversights or errors and have been fixed (with a new sentence added in a bit after the first change to help it make more sense, though a casual reader wouldn't get that line anyway as it is foreshadowing).

 

The whole realm/Realm thing was partially intentional, but eh, not messing with it. I originally intended any direct reference to the actual places themselves to be capitalized, but indirect references to the concept of realms in general to remain lower case, but then I thought "what the heck." When you pointed it out, I realized that was as foolish as capitalizing "World" every time in various Sci-fi stories. It has been fixed in the master document, but I am not going to go back here and fix it up as that would be annoyingly difficult without Find/Replace.

 

As for the comma, I am not sure if it needs a comma, but it definitely needs some work on it. Basically, the intent of the campaign is to BOTH steal immortality and replace the Immortals. What I need to do is change the verb "replacing" with "replace" to make that whole thing a compound prep phrase or something. Anyway, I fixed that up a bit.

 

As for the "gods" thing, that is intentional, entirely intentional. I checked and I never once capitalize the term "gods" or "god." The term is not used in conjunction with a proper name nor are they in reference to the Judeo/Christian God (which is always capitalized because that is His proper name). I would no more capitalize "god" in this reference than I would capitalize "spirit" in reference to a non-corporeal being (though not if they were part of the Immortal race known as the Spirits because then it would be a proper noun such as American or Australian and not just a description of what form they take).

 

 

 

Yes, Raella is most definitely a genuine believer, as is Ansee, her personal priest/mentor. As with all organizations, there are true believers and those who would use the system for personal gain. The question you need to figure out is whether or not High Priest Brogath is a genuine believer or if he is simply using religion for personal power (as at least one of the Terulan High Priests does later on).

 

Plus, did you catch the little hidden clue I left here? I won't say what it is, but it is quite important and is easily the largest foreshadowing I had in the chapter (which is saying something considering all that was here).

[DarthBrendo]

I accidentally hit submit instead of preview, so I went back in and had it open and was adding comments as I read more, so that might have been what caused the issue.

 

Fair call on the god/God thing..just thought I'd bring it up to double check. I may/may not have caught your little clue, but I know that I'll have forgotten it by the time it comes around to being revealed and so it will be an ah-ha! moment then anyway.

[Travis]

I am curious to hear what you think I was talking about. I want to see how easy it is for people to pick out so I can either make it more or less obvious.

[DarthBrendo]

Something to do with Chaos and the Immortals, and 'choice'.

[Travis]

Yes, that is indeed some foreshadowing that I hoped would be fairly obvious, but it seems that the one I am thinking of is still quite safe. It really isn't a fair question to you because there are so many things in this chapter that give hints to the future, especially for poor Raella, but also for the world in general.

[DarthBrendo]

coughwaitingformorecough

[Travis]

Okay, as promised, we are taking a break from the Syler storyline to truly start the Amberis one. I have put a lot of effort into expanding his character and persona as well as being able to give out his reasons for doing what he does without spelling it all out in a monologue. I think expanding his original quarter chapter into a full one really helps do that. It also introduces the minor character Zaren Rael who will have a part to play later on.

 

 

______________

 

 

Chapter 31

 

• Treachery can abound in even the most trusted individuals. Never stray your vision far from those who are close because only they are near enough to thrust a knife into your back.
   
  — Gzai Oren's Art of Politics

 

 

The Royal Dungeons

Terula City,

Kingdom of Terula

October 10

 

Lord Amberis Rael rarely visited the dungeons. As a first cousin to King Gevas Rael and the head of the rich and powerful House Rael, he didn't have much cause to do so. Most of his life was spent doing more important things such as planning invasions, dealing with revenue, monitoring rival lords and nobles, and ensuring that House Rael continued to remain in power.

 

Despite all of the endeavors that a man such as he should be undertaking, he was, at this very moment, journeying into the dark, damp dungeons beneath the Royal Palace in Terula City. He had cause to do so now because there was a special person currently residing in one of the cells that he wanted to meet. It had taken some doing, but he had managed to acquire a valuable prisoner from their Angvardi allies. A great deal of bribes and blood had been spent to get this man here and Amberis intended on getting his money's worth out of him.

 

When he arrived at the outer gate, the guards there initially balked at seeing a man wearing such fine silk clothes and jewelry in such a place. Most who came here did not do so willingly and typically wore filthy tatters of clothes ripped in their struggle against the guards who were dragging them along. At first, the sergeant guarding the post didn't recognize him, so Amberis gave the man a few moments. The initial look of disbelief on the sergeant's face morphed first into confusion, then into the natural suspicion that all good guards had. When his mind had time to process who he was seeing, his eyes widened and his jaw lowered slightly. Now that he was recognized, Amberis merely arched his brow and the sergeant jumped into action. The gate was opened and he was allowed through without question.

 

After waving aside the sergeant's bumbling offer to give him an escort, Amberis purposefully strode down the dark, narrow spiral staircase that led him dozens of feet below ground. At the bottom, he encountered the next checkpoint. Unlike the previous batch, these men were anticipating him. After all, Amberis had paid good money to ensure that most of the men down here were loyal to him. He expected them to be waiting and ready for this special moment.

 

"This way, milord," a man in slightly rusted mail and a dirty yellow tunic said. He gestured to the left and waited for Amberis to go ahead of him.

 

The two of them journeyed through hundreds of yards of corridors consisting of various cell blocks, interrogation rooms, and larger holding cells. They both ignored the moans and groans of the various inhabitants—mostly hardened criminals—along the way. Every few yards, an enclosed lamp offered enough light to properly see most of the environment, even though Amberis had no desire to examine what he could see closely. They passed several patrolling guards along the way, but none of them felt any reason to question or even look too closely at the well dressed man walking unchained through the dank halls.

 

After going through the regular part of the extensive prison, Amberis and the guard arrived at another checkpoint tucked away behind a wood door set in a little niche well off the beaten path. Once through the door, they were greeted by a thick, sturdy steel gate that led into a small barracks. The room directly visible behind the gate sported numerous tables and chairs, as well as a small supply of ale. Off to either side, doors led to other parts of the barracks that offered beds, latrines, a washroom, and a small place to stretch and practice combat. It was dark and dimly lit, but warm even while an early winter was starting up on the surface.

 

These guards behind the locked gate took a long, hard look at Amberis and his escort before even summoning the officer in command. A man wearing a lieutenant's badge across his right breast, a massive specimen of muscle and intimidation, sauntered across the guard room in well polished hauberk with a blood red sash draped diagonally across one shoulder and down the opposite waist. He rested his hands atop the pommel of his sword and appraised the new arrivals coldly. His pale skin contrasted with the black hair of his closely cropped beard and his green eyes were unnervingly brilliant in the dim light.

 

After pursing his lips for a second, he pointed a black gloved finger at Amberis' escort and said, "You may depart." Without hesitation, the man retreated back into the gloom of the dungeons. He then dismissed his own guards who, after but a moment's confusion at being asked to abandon their posts, complied and filed out into their barracks. When the guard was out of earshot, the lieutenant's lips quirked up slightly. "Lord Rael, it has been too long since you have visited my little kingdom."

 

"I know, but I have too many other things to occupy me to come down often, Zaren."

 

The man's hand, encased in a black leather glove, rose to softly chide Amberis. "It is Lieutenant Rael now, cousin."

 

"Of course," Amberis replied with a shallow bow of acknowledgment. "I had not forgotten. I was hoping that you would suspense with courtesies considering our past, but it appears that you are still bitter about your fate."

Zaren slammed his hands against the bars of the gate separating the two of them and said loudly, "Of course I am! You sent me here to rot in this hell while you get to live in splendor up in the sunlight."

 

Amberis' right hand clenched into a fist. He matched his cousin's tone and volume. "I sent you here because you are a Rael and the House needs you here."

 

"What could you possibly need me here for that any other common soldier couldn't handle?" Zaren snarled.

 

"Don't be foolish," replied Amberis with a dismissive wave. "You think of this as an exile, but I see of it as strategic positioning. Think, cousin, what do you have here?"

 

Underneath his beard, Zaren's cheeks were flaming in fury. "I have nothing! I waste away my life in this dark pit, growing more and more out of touch with the rest of life. I spend day after day with this same lot of wretches without even crossing the threshold of this gate. An entire week could go by without a glimpse of a single ray of sunlight, and don't make me start in on the lack of women. The only ones we get to see are the filthy creatures that aren't good enough to be held in the regular dungeons, but are condemned to the special hell we guard. Six years I have rotted down here, ignored and forgotten."

 

Amberis' face remained still as stone. "Forgive me if I appear unmoved. You have your life, and that is more than you could have had. We all have our roles to play and the hardships we must bear."

 

"And apparently not all of those hardships are shared equally," fumed the lieutenant.

 

This, at least, brought a smile to Amberis' face. "That, unfortunate as it may be, is true. Rest assured, Lieutenant Zaren, your suffering shall not go unrewarded. There is a time that you will soon rise up out of this pit and step into the day once more. When that day comes, you will have something far better than a simple tin badge on over your breast. You will have lands and servants and even people to rule."

 

Zaren's eyes narrowed at this as if he were waiting for a giant "but" to once again snatch his future away from him. "You know that isn't possible, not after what you did."

 

"I did nothing, Zaren, you were the one who decided to go out that fateful night despite Feralda's warning. She may be dimwitted and gluttonous, but those things have in no way impeded on her capacity to sense when trouble is brewing."

 

"Do not speak of Mother that way or you will never get through this gate," Zaren snapped.

 

Ignoring the interruption, Amberis continued, "But it was you who decided to go to the tavern and you alone are responsible for what happened. It was all I could do to make sure you weren't thrown in one of the very cells that I just passed while you waited for your execution. Cousin Gevas was just about to sign your death warrant when I intervened on your behalf. The best I was able to do for you was to get you stationed as a guard here where you are out of sight of the public and the Vaserdeys."

 

The lord spread his hands out and gestured at the lieutenant. "Now look at you. You have risen from a mere guard to the lieutenant in charge of the Bastelin. Do you think that was merely by coincidence, Zaren? Do you truly think that a man with your past would be able to rise so quickly? Even having the name of 'Rael' would do that for you without someone around to pull strings and whisper into the proper ears."

 

"You did this?" Zaren asked. "I don't believe you. You have only visited me once since I was thrown down here. Now, you are coming here acting as though I owe what little I have left to your benevolence?" He spat on the ground at Amberis' feet. "I don't think so."

 

"Oh cousin, has your time in the dark completely robbed you of your senses? We used to be friends, and there was a time when you used to look up to me."

 

"I was young then, and naïve," spat Zaren. "You were thirteen years older than I was and that meant you were strong and loved by all. You got all of the best posts and luxuries. All of the nobles paid homage to you and treated you as a superior even as a youth. It didn't hurt that your father was the King Vrastas' younger brother and you were heir to House Rael." He beat his armored chest with a fist and continued his rant. "What did I have? Nothing! I was just the lesser son of a lesser sister of a lesser branch of the family. I had to work hard to get what I had and then it was taken away from me by that bastard Oelas Vaserdey while you stood there and watched."

 

"I told you," Amberis replied heatedly, "I was the one who saved your life. Gevas was not eager to renew the feud between our Houses and was willing to sacrifice you to prevent it. I persuaded him to spare you and send you here rather than the hangman's gallows."

 

"Maybe it would have been better if you had," Zaren replied sullenly.

 

Amberis only glared at him through the slowly rusting bars of the door that separated them. "We all have our roles and mine is undeniably greater and more visible than yours. I don't make any apologies for that and never will. Get a hold of yourself, cousin. Do you see me beating my chest while complaining about how Gevas is king and I am not? No! I accept my fate and work with what I have. You should try it yourself."

"That is easy for you to say, you have palaces and attend glorious parties with women hanging on both arms."

 

Amberis rolled his eyes. "Oh if only I could escape such pathetic functions that serve only to disrupt my real work." He glared into his cousin's eyes and said in a cold, demanding tone, "There is a war on, Zaren, and Terula needs both of us. Are you willing to serve your House and kingdom, or will you continue to waste away in the dark nursing your old grudges and playing the victim?"

 

Zaren's right cheek twitched slightly, but he held Amberis' gaze steadily. For a few seconds, Amberis thought he was considering simply storming off and leaving him standing at the gate. Instead of doing that, the guard's face drooped and he sighed in defeat, "Okay, Amberis, what is it you want from me?"

 

A slight smile graced Amberis' lips. "You received a prisoner three days ago."

 

"We get many prisoners down here," replied Zaren edgily.

 

"This one had no name and came escorted by four men wearing checkered blue and black armbands."

 

Zaren's cheek twitched again. "Okay, I know which one."

 

"I need to speak with him."

 

"What did he do?" The guards down in this section of the dungeons did not ask questions about why people were sent here, they merely did as they were told and held their charges until their fate could be decided by men who saw far more sunlight than them.

 

Amberis shook his head, "No, not until I see him. You may listen in on our conversation if you wish. In fact, I would prefer if you did. I believe you will be quite enlightened if you do."

 

"You, an interrogator?" Zaren said with a harsh laugh. "I had never thought to see you actually get your hands dirty."

 

Amberis' eyes glazed over and he absentmindedly flexed his right hand open and closed a few times. "Do not fool yourself, there are worse things than blood on my soul."

 

"What is that supposed to mean?"

 

"It means nothing to now," murmured Amberis. He shook himself briefly and focused back on his cousin. "I need to see this man and, if things work as I hope they will, I will need your help."

Zaren crossed his arms across his chest. "Why should I help you do anything?"

 

"Because, no matter how bitter you have become, you are still a Rael. That means you have the wits enough to realize that helping me is your only way out of obscurity."

 

The two of them remained standing there for over a minute while the lieutenant searched the lord's face for any hint of deception or falsehood. Amberis remained passive, unmoving and without expression, under the scrutiny. He knew his younger cousin and the burning passion to escape his fate that drove him. That knowledge gave him confidence that his cousin would acquiesce.

 

With a huff, Zaren reached down to pull out a brass ring of keys. It took a few seconds to pick the right one, but when he had it in hand, he jammed in into the lock. The bars separating them swung open with the sound of rusty metal grinding against itself. Amberis gave a nod of satisfaction before sweeping past his cousin and into the barracks common room.

 

"Take me to where this new prisoner is," he said after Zaren closed and secured the gate. Zaren grabbed two torches and took him to the door opposite the gate.

 

Once through the door, the environment rapidly deteriorated. The air was warm, moist, and reeked of organic waste causing even a hardened man like Amberis to fight to prevent his lunch from adding to the pools of blood and vomit already dotting the ground. Unlike above, there were no calls for mercy from the handful of cells. Most of the prisoners were silent, getting whatever sleep they could between interrogation sessions. Those that did make noise often only moaned in pain. Amberis had no love of such places, but there were times when hard things had to be done for the sake of the realm. Most of these prisoners were murderers, traitors, or spies, but there were a few of the gifted who had fallen into the forbidden arts or been driven mad and had to be locked away. This was the most secure place to put them because, long ago, dozens of wizards and hundreds of mages had invested great power into these stones that minimized the gifted's ability to wield magic here. The most powerful wizard could barely conjure flame enough to light a candle here.

 

After marching down three long hallways that curved and twisted about, Zaren stopped beside a nondescript cell and nodded toward the inhabitant inside. Amberis held his torch up so he could see inside. When his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he frowned. It wasn't exactly how he wanted to meet his guest, but he hadn't been able to leave special instructions with those who brought him here because any special treatment would have drawn attention.

 

Inside, a naked man was curled up in one corner with his back to the cell door. His filthy skin was covered in welts and bruises both fresh and old. His lice filled hair was matted and hang down to his shoulders. His joints seemed bloated after all the weight he had lost.

 

When the prisoner didn't react to the light, Amberis pulled out his knife and ran its metal hilt across the bars. At the clinking of metal on metal, the prisoner jerked awake and shuddered in his corner.

 

"Alvaren, Alvaren, Alvaren… What shall I do with you?" Amberis asked calmly.

 

He did not expect an answer, but the prisoner managed to mutter, "You could kill me now."

 

Amberis chuckled, "Why would I do that? It took a lot of risk and money to get you here."

 

Alvaren gave him a wheezing laugh that devolved into a coughing fit. When he recovered, he said dryly, "Then you have wasted it. I am of no use to you."

 

"Don't sell yourself short," chastised Amberis. "You are the king of the Sei."

 

The man snorted in derision, "I was, until your allies conquered us three months ago."

 

"Actually, it was five months ago," Amberis said matter-of-factly. "Since then, the Sua have also all but fallen and the Koshi will soon bear the brunt of Eastern might."

 

"So you have come to gloat, then, is that it?"

 

Amberis shook his head, though the prisoner could not see the gesture. "On the contrary, I am here to get my money's worth out of you."

 

This got another dry laugh out of Alvaren. "I am worthless now, no good to anyone. Let me die and go before the Elements in judgment."

 

"And what if I were to make you king once more?" asked Amberis cautiously. For the first time since coming down to these dungeons, he was not sure how things would go. If he couldn't persuade Alvaren Granad to fight for his crown, he would have to find another who might take his place. That would be time consuming and would delay his plans.

 

As if waiting for his tormenter to break into laughter at a particularly cruel joke, Alvaren didn't immediately respond. When Amberis remained standing in silence, the prisoner wiggled around on the floor so he could face the gate. When he saw how serious Amberis was, he asked, "Who are you?"

 

With a gallant smile, Amberis said, "I am Lord Amberis Rael, Lord of House Rael and first cousin to King Gevas Rael of Terula."

 

The ragged prisoner blinked several times at this news. "Why would you help me?"

 

"Because having you retake your throne would mean that the Angvardi lose control of your lands and people," Amberis answered quickly.

 

The bags under the fallen king's eyes darkened considerably. "They are your allies, why would you want that?"

 

There was a little heat in Amberis' voice when he responded. "The Angvardi will never be allies. We may not be at war while the king and his imperial whore continue their little affair, but when they are no longer in control, things will go back to the way they have been for thousands of years. Terula and Angvard have too much bad blood between them to ever be at peace. War will break out again, and this time, I mean for Terula to have the upper hand once and for all."

 

"And how do the Sei fall into that?"

 

"Do not play the fool, Alvaren. Even after experiencing defeat at the hands of the Angvardi, the Kingdom of the Sei is still the largest and most powerful of the northwest kingdoms outside the Krue, and the Krue don't leave their sacred forest. If you were to rally your people and rebel against Angvardi control, you would shatter their control over both the Sua and the Koshi. Sei is the gateway into the West for the Angvardi and with it sealed off, they cannot expand further."

 

Alvaren chuckled at this thought. "We could not long stand against the Angvardi even at our full strength. What makes you think we would last against them now?"

 

"As part of the conditions for my help, you would have to sign a treaty that made you allies with Terula. With that alliance and the additional lands that I have conquered in the Unification Campaigns, I would have the power to break the Angvardi forever. Terula was capable of fighting Angvard to a standstill before the Great Peace. Imagine how much more we could do with the collective might of the West under our control! We would finally have the resources and manpower to overwhelm the Angvardi and defeat them once and for all. Two thousand years of living in their shadow would be over."

 

"Forgive me for being selfish, but what do the Sei get out of this? It seems like a very risky plan, especially if things don't go your way."

 

"You would be given all of the Kingdom of the Sua, as well as some of the Koshi's land as payment for your alliance. When it is over, we would control Angvard and all of the East. With that treaty of alliance, you wouldn’t need to fear our attacks and we would have no reason to attack you."

 

Alvaren looked skeptical, "But why would you betray your allies? I thought your king was staunchly in favor of this alliance as part of his religious campaign. Your Wayic priests blathered on long enough about the need to be unified and at peace for this Coming Darkness of yours."

 

Amberis smiled craftily. "The prophecies say that we must be united, but it doesn't specify who we must be united under. One can't just wash away centuries of warfare by a single marriage. My cousin is a fool if he thinks that he can do so. The world will be united under one entity: Terula. I doubt that King Gevas will be around at that point, so I foresee no problems with the breaking of fellowship with Angvard."

 

"I see," Alvaren said after a long pause. "If I should agree to help you, what are your terms? How do you plan on getting me out?"

 

"My terms are simple: you will return to your people and raise a new army in secret. I will send men and some limited supplies with you to ensure you make it to your people safely and have something to start with. From what I have been able to gather, it seems that there are still a good number of your Seinari that are already engaged in sporadic resistance, so you should be able to quickly link up with them. When the time is right, I will give you the word to strike and you will lead your countrymen in rebellion against Angvard.

 

"I will be taking care of the bulk of the Angvardi armies, but there will still be garrisons you need to handle. Should you succeed on your own in driving out the Angvardi and reestablishing your kingdom, then the only requirement I have of you is a treaty of alliance and the right of free passage for all Terulan armies and merchants. If I am forced to devote armies and openly fight the Angvardi in order to gain your independence, then you will pay a tribute of three times the yearly salary of each man fighting as well as two hundred pounds of gold a year for ten years in addition to the previous terms."

 

There was silence for a full minute as the Sei king considered the situation. "You would turn on your own kin in order to do this?"

 

"I have the greatest loyalty to my kin and House," Amberis said as he threw a glance over to Zaren. "However, I have no tolerance for traitors. In allying with the Angvardi and marrying their bitch of an empress, Gevas has betrayed all that it means to be Terulan. Had Uncle Vrastas known what his son would do, he would have smothered him as an infant before ever allowing Gevas to sit on his throne."

 

"And what is to prevent you from betraying me?"

 

Amberis shrugged. "I point you to King Nag'zsus of Tegas and tell you to follow his example. He submitted to the armies of Terula and the Way without all of the pointless bloodshed that other nations have forced upon themselves. In return, he has been made the governor of the new Realm of Tegas and, in return for supporting me when the time comes, will be given back full control of his lands once Angvard is defeated."

 

Alvaren was not convinced and didn't bother to show it on his face. "That does not ensure that you won't betray him once Angvard is destroyed. Why allow for independent kingdoms when you can have it all?"

 

"I guess you will have to trust me, then. Even if I do betray you, what do you have to lose? Your kingdom is already under foreign domination and you are, well…" his voice dropped off and he waved his hand at around to the foul dungeons he was standing in.

 

"You have a point," the prisoner said wryly.

 

"Let me ask you something: which of your borders has given you the least cause for concern over the centuries?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"I mean, from which of your borders has your kingdom been threatened the least? If that is too difficult a question, I will rephrase it. Has Terula ever invaded Sei unless provoked?"

 

The defeated king was forced to shake his head. "No, not that I know of. It is true that we have faced more problems from our other neighbors, but what is your point?"

 

"My point is that Terula has never had any interest in the Sei's lands. You have no resources we can't find easier elsewhere and you are too far north. That is why I am wanting to give you the Sua's and the Koshi's northern lands because they are too distant for us to bother with."

 

"Then why bother with us in the first place?" asked Alvaren.

 

"To deny the Angvardi of that strategic position, as well as whatever meager armies your kingdom could still field."

 

That, at least, the king seemed to accept. "How would you get me out of here, then?"

 

It was the only question asked so far that posed any risk to it at all. "You leave that to me," replied Amberis. "All I need to know is if you want to get out of this pit and back into a position where you can help your subjects. Will you sit back here and die while your people languish under foreign occupation?"

 

Alvaren grinded his teeth together while he contemplated this. While he did, Zaren grabbed his cousin and pulled him back down the hallway. "Are you insane!" he hissed.

 

"Of course not," replied Amberis evenly. He shrugged Zaren's grip off of his shoulder and brushed himself off. "I have been planning this for years."

 

"You are planning treason!"

 

"Yes…and no. As I told the Sei, it is Gevas who betrayed Terula first by tying us together with those Angvardi bastards."

 

"He is our king, Amberis. More than that, he is a Rael. You can't be involved in this," pleaded Zaren.

 

Amberis set his jaw and said harshly, "And look at how he was willing to simply toss you to the Vaserdeys. He doesn't view himself as a Rael, much less as a true Terulan. I have seen him and talked to him, Zaren. He truly believes this nonsense about becoming one and equal with the Angvardi. He even refused to have any more children with his bitch whore because he didn't want there to be any splitting of the thrones of either of our kingdoms." He slammed one fist into the other. "It is his plan to completely merge Angvard and Terula into one single kingdom under Raella before he dies!"

 

"What?"

 

"Yes, you heard me. When she reaches an appropriate age, both Gevas and the bitch Celienna will willingly forego sovereignty in favor of a single kingdom. They will then abdicate and turn their thrones over to their daughter. She will become the singular leader this new kingdom which will span from the Pausey Shoals to the Coasts of Blood."

 

"That is insanity!" exclaimed Zaren.

 

"Of course it is. The established leaders from both Terula and Angvard will be at each other's throats. Raella would be pulled a dozen directions at one by men far more cunning and treacherous than she is capable of handling. I know the girl. She is a sweet, naïve little thing that has no grasp on deception and is a stranger to guile. She won't last six months without her parents being forced to take over and that will only cause more problems because they can't live forever."

 

"Surely they would make sure she was prepared," replied Zaren incredulously.

 

Amberis shook his head. "I do not need to tell you that there are some that are born to kill, others born to lead. Some are at home in the treacherous halls of power, others are meant for the simplicity of farming. One would have thought that the offspring of two ruthlessly cunning dynasties would be a fierce opponent indeed, but that is not the case. Raella has too kind and gentle a nature to be trifling with politics or power.

 

"She will not long hold onto power, and when she falls, the resulting power vacuum will have every single House and lord struggling to fill it. It will be absolute chaos and men will die by the millions. The lands we have conquered will revolt and we won't have the strength to stop them. The various Angvardi and the Terulans factions will be at each other's throats as much as they are their own. When the blood has been all spilt and the fires burned out, who knows what will remain? The East could become just like the West: fractured and divided into meaningless kingdoms always at war with each other."

 

Zaren wiped his forearm across his brow and let out a long breath. "I see why you are doing what you are doing, even if I do not like it. I have seen enough traitors in these halls to know that most are nothing more than vile creatures. I would not have ever thought you would be one of them."

 

Amberis clasped his fist over his heart, "I am not a traitor. I am a man who wants to see his kingdom and countrymen remain strong and free. The course our king has us set on will lead to war with the northerners. There is nothing we can do to avoid that fate, so I aim to make sure that Terula is strong and ready to face it when it happens."

 

Zaren thought this over for a few moments, then transferred his torch to his left hand and offered his right to his cousin. Amberis did the same and clasped Zaren's forearm.

 

"What do I need to do?" Zaren asked.

 

"If the Sei king agrees to my terms, I will need you to engineer his escape. I will have men waiting for you at the Traitor's Walk tonight. Get Alvaren to them intact and you will have done your part for our cause."

"I can do that. What will happen to me?"

 

Amberis smiled, "There will be other prisoners that might need releasing, as well as some that need to be hidden away here. When the day comes, I will not forget you my cousin. There will be a lordship title and lands waiting for you when you emerge from the darkness and into the light."

 

There was yearning in Zaren's voice when he whispered, "That is long overdue."

 

"Of course it is. With Gevas out of the way, I will deal with the Vaserdeys and there will be nothing stopping Zaren Rael from claiming his rightful place in the royal court. Now, cousin, shall we go and see if our would be king has made his decision?"

 

Zaren nodded and led the way back to Alvaren's cell. When they arrived, Amberis cleared his throat and asked, "What is your answer?"

 

The helpless king looked up out of his his filth at the spotless silk clad figure of the lord standing in front of him and said, "I will do what I must to help my people. Elements spare my soul, we have a deal."

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

I really like your map. What software did you use to put it together?

[Travis]

I used the GIMP, a free software. I also used some free stock brushes for the mountains and forest as well as free stock for the terrain.

[DarthBrendo]

"This way, milord,"

 

I've only ever seen it spelled as m'lord. Not saying yours is wrong, just that I've not seen it that way anywhere.

 

The room directly visible behind the gate sported numerous tables and chairs, as well as a small supply of ale.

 

I'm not sure on this sentence. I had to read it a few times, and I think you've got directly and visible in the wrong order. I think it should be The room visible directly behind the gate.

 

I like this new chapter. I'm glad that you've brought Alvaren back into this, rather then left him out as in the original draft. I think this strengthens the overall story, adding another layer to it, the obvious rebellion element, but also the family plotting.

[Travis]

Alvaren was in the first draft in this exact place. I only expanded this section slightly and had him give an answer rather than simply ask for more time. Do you mean Zaren (the cousin)? Alvaren was the King of the Sei (Syler's people). Zaren was introduced to give some flavor to Amberis as well as to allow me (the writer) to show some of Amberis' motives for plotting against Gevas (the king) rather than telling. In the first draft, I had like four or five paragraphs right from the start explaining Amberis' motives and whatnot, but that was lazy writing because it told rather than showed. I have been working to cut down on those parts so I introduce Zaren as a minor character in the story. Plus, it also lets me develop a new concept to the Terulan storyline: the noble Houses. Angvard has local lords in charge of various cities and territories, but Terula has noble Houses which serve essentially like mafia kingdoms but with official power. As Terula is essentially a confederation (versus Angvardi's more centralized imperial power), the Houses play a major part (as will become very apparent in the end of the second book and most of the third).

 

I've only ever seen it spelled as m'lord. Not saying yours is wrong, just that I've not seen it that way anywhere.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milord

I have seen it as "my lord," "m'lord," and "milord." I didn't realize that, in history, "milord" had a specific reference as I thought it was another alternate spelling. Upon investigation, I believe the correct usage is indeed "m'lord" and therefore, I shall be changing it.

 

You are right about the words being kinda funky. I shall fix that immediately.

 

 

 

Anyway, moving onto the next chapter. This, like the above chapter, was originally one quarter of one chapter. I very much didn't like that and decided to give it about 2/3 a chapter with the rest of the chapter being devoted to a tangent involving the Prophets and Seers. This also includes a little element that helps answer a question about Aitin (the runaway prophet) and avoids a plothole/deus ex machima issue for both him and a future event.

 

I like what I do in this chapter with making Lorenez (the guy who teaches Raella in a few more chapters), into a more fully fleshed out character. He has a role to play in the future and this helps more logically lay out why/how he is part of it. Plus, I kinda go a little CSI with him using some spells and even showing a little more of how the colors and magic and all work.

 

_____________

 

Chapter 32

 

Magic, when used for holy purposes, is among the most precious gifts the gods have bestowed upon mortals. Magic, when used for the profane black arts, is among the most dire threats to befall mankind.

 

— The Wisdom of Ages, a Wayic Holy Text

 

 

Abandoned house

Outside Terula City,

Kingdom of Terula

October 11

 

Magic was more than simply a flashy trick. It was greater than the power to kill someone standing next to you. It was more than simply seeing the future or healing or defending something from attack. It was definitely not simply something for show to impress peasants or intimidate peers. Many of the commoners and ungifted thought that magic was always something mysterious and unattainable, but they were wrong.

 

Magic was the power of life itself.

 

Magic sustained life, it made it possible, and without it, there would be no life. Tantis the Founder had, in his infinite knowledge, created magic and put it into this world so that it could keep his wife's creation alive. Originally, magic was meant to enrich life and bring beauty to the Two Realms.

 

Chaos took that beautiful gift and perverted it to kill and maim and destroy. Because of his envy and jealousy, the pureness and innocence of magic was gone forever. In its place, fear and danger emerged. Magic could be used to do many horrible, nearly unthinkable things, but the worst of those offenses was the power to summon back the dead. Necromancy was profane, vile, and the most repulsive use of magic because it stole souls from eternal bliss and bound them to an unnatural existence in the world of the living. Man was never meant to live forever. They were to live their lives, die, and return to the gods. Their souls, were they pure, would go to dwell with the gods forever with the goddess Mewela who loved them dearly. Those souls that weren't pure would suffer eternal damnation in the vengeful clutches of Chaos in the Eternal Fire.

 

Wizard Lorenez had never liked any of those who dealt in necromancy. Necromancy may have been banned in the kingdom as an blasphemy against the Tetrarchy, but that didn't mean it didn't exist. Mankind was always trying to stray and commit evil acts and necromancy offered some the perverse power that their warped minds desired. As a member of the Order of Wizards' Purification Sect, it was his responsibility to root out necromancy and destroy it and any associated with it wherever it could be found. He understood the danger that necromancers posed to the world and wanted to do his part to ensure that the darkest, most profane of necromancy's powers were never unleashed.

 

Even now, he was leading six of the city guard to a house three miles outside of the city that had been suspected of being used by necromancers. It wasn't a very reliable tip, but any report needed to be verified, especially this close to the capital.

 

Even if the prospects were slim that the house was a hub of necromancy, Lorenez almost hoped that there were necromancers present because it would give him a chance to relieve some tension. Things back at the College were growing almost unbearable as the rivalry between the wizards and prophets heated up. The feud between Grandmaster Wizard Setpinius and Master Prophet Xalent was continuing to the point that brawls had broken out during intercollegiate meetings. Fortunately, magic had yet to be used and nobody was killed in any of them, but the king had not been pleased and had ordered the two heads of their respective Orders to resolve their issues and stop the infighting. That hadn't gone over very well, so Lorenez had volunteered to search out necromancers even when such a flimsy rumor was all they had to go on. It was a good excuse to get out of the city for an afternoon.

 

They approached the house without a problem. Lorenez cast a few exploratory spells to see if there was life inside or if there was any magic being used in the area recently. The life spells didn't show anything, but that rarely meant much when dealing with necromancers. He had once come upon a camp that had not shown any signs of life, but when they had entered to search it, had been crawling with necromancer adepts who had been able to conceal their spirit's life.

 

There were signs of magic being used, however, and that cause his pulse to quicken slightly. He could sense residual spells echoing within the house. It was nothing above mage level, so Lorenez felt confident that these were just amateurs and were no match against a full wizard. Even if he knew he could handle a mere mage, it wouldn't do to go in recklessly and fall into a trap. He and the men with him spent an hour watching the house for any signs of movement.

 

After nothing happened, they decided to approach it slowly. Two men went around back to watch for anyone trying to escape while the other four and Lorenez went in from the front. With just a simple gesture of the wizard's hand, the door blew into shards and the guards stormed in. Lorenez followed with his hands at the ready to ward off any attack.

 

What they found was a mostly empty house. There was an old bed with worn sheets in one corner and a few pieces of random debris on the floor, but the house clearly hadn't been used in months. With a furrowed brow, Lorenez went searching for the source of the magical echoes he had felt outside while the guards went back outside to keep from tainting the scene any farther.

 

His head whipped around at the sound of glass crashing to the floor. His hands were glowing with counterspells when he saw what had happened and extinguished them. "You fool," he hissed. "Don't touch anything."

 

The guard who had knocked down what appeared to be a simple glass cup looked confused. Lorenez shook his head angrily and answered the unspoken question. "Necromancy doesn't just involve raising recently deceased bodies. Any necromancer adept can bind the spirits of dead animals or people to objects that serve as wards or charms for their black magic. What may seem to be a simple glass could very well be a powerful charm that could detonate a sphere of lightning that would consume this entire house. Be careful not to disturb anything here."

 

Satisfied at the alarm on the faces of the four who had entered the house with him, the wizard started investigating things more closely. There were no signs of blood that would indicate a recent sacrifice, nor were there any of the standard totems or runes anywhere to be seen. There weren't even any sharp knives visible. With a frown of displeasure, he whispered the words to cast a new spell to determine what exactly he had felt from outside.

 

The world around him glowed in his eyes as he saw the magic potential of everything. If he wasn't careful, his mind would be overwhelmed and all he would see is a pure white light as though he were looking into the sun. As it was, he had to focus on each part of the spectrum of magical potential that the spell revealed to him. The table, walls, floor, and most of the objects here were a dull, slowly changing white light that held little interest to him. Small beetles and what could be a rat in the floorboards showed a deep, rich, slowly pulsing blue or green. The guards were only slightly more interesting as they glowed in a rapid bright light striating between yellow and orange. It took a minute or two to fully focus on everything enough to get to the higher levels of magical potential and that was when he saw it.

 

There, surrounded by the plain white light of the floor, was a fiercely flaring red light that sent waves out all around it. He ended his spell and the world returned to normal. "Leave this place," he commanded. "It is not safe."

 

The four guards hastily withdrew the way they came and stayed outside. Lorenez approached the object he had seen with caution. With his natural eyes, he was able to see that the object seemed to be nothing more threatening than a small wooden cube around three inches on each side. He was experienced enough to realize that appearances were rarely accurate, especially when it came to magic and women. Without touching it, he inspected each of the five visible sides for any markings or differences without success. On the surface, there was nothing special about this piece of wood, just that it was a smoothed piece of what looked like birch.

 

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a tin of green powder. Slowly and carefully, he poured a hexagon around the box before returning it to its place. The next thing he brought forth was a small glass vial of purple liquid. A single drop was poured at each corner of the hexagon before being placed back where he had gotten it. He placed his hands over the cube and spoke the words that would complete the spell.

 

The design drawn around the object caught fire and began smoking. Green flames then erupted and cast the house in an eerie tint. A slight wind began swirling around wizard and spell drawing the smoke directly into the cube where it vanished into nothingness. After the green powder had burned away and the smoke had been taken in by the cube, Lorenez stopped his chanting and stared at the object in front of him.

 

The cube remained untouched, with only the slightest of white wisps emanating from it. He frowned and wondered what sort of magic this was and why it would have been found here. If it had been rejected by the cube, it would have told him that whatever magic was within it was shielded against such investigations. It hadn't blocked the smoke nor the rest of his spell, so it did not appear to be warded. Had the smoke turned a different color as it came into contact with the cube, it would have indicated what sort of magic he was dealing with. Instead, it had come back white, a non-color that indicated nothing of value. At least it did not indicate hostile intent or danger. His own senses had not picked up any threats or danger, either, but this was clearly an object of magic.

 

Deciding that the object warranted further investigation, he performed a quick containment spell to encase the object and keep it pristine. He wanted to be able to study this at his leisure back in his office with far more tools and potions to assist him. When he was satisfied that the spell was holding, he slipped the wooden block into his satchel and exited the house.

 

"Did you find anything, Wizard Lorenez?" the leader of the guard asked.

 

"No, I cannot sense any necromancy here. There was an object of magic within, but it could be anything or come from anywhere. Regardless, it seems that it is not a threat so I have brought it with me for further evaluation. It appears our journey was a general waste of time."

 

"At least it means we didn't have to stand around in the market all day staring at all the lovely ladies we can't touch," one of them said. The others chuckled.

 

"Then I am glad that I helped you escape that torment," said Lorenez dryly. He was disappointed that there had been no necromancers to deal with, but he was also intrigued by the stone block. Right now, he wanted to get back to the College to where he could study it further and perhaps salvage something of value out of this day.

 

Regardless to his desires, the wizard was doomed to face a litany of questions from the suddenly quite chatty guards. Now that the prospect of facing the horrors of necromancers had passed, they were eager to talk to a wizard. So few commoners ever had direct access to the gifted, and those that did were needing services rather than conversation.

 

"So, master wizard, is it true that the prophets have seen the Coming Darkness?" a guard ask.

 

Lorenez let out a sigh of impatience. "Do you not see the white of my robes? I am not a master, but simply venerated. If you must, address me as Venerated Wizard Lorenez." The guards didn't know what to make of that, but the one who first posed the question repeated it. "The prophets always claim to see the Coming Darkness around every corner. It is how they remain relevant. With such weak and generally impractical skills, they wrap themselves in mystery and supposed foresight to prevent themselves from being left out in the streets."

 

There was a murmur among several of the guards, but Lorenez didn't care. If he didn't care enough to bother learning their names or even recognizing their differences, he sure wasn't going to care about their gossip. He was able to continue down the road for several hundred yards before another guard interrupted his peace.

 

"The prophets see disasters and warn us about them. Many have been saved by their words. Surely that makes them relevant and worthy of support. Right?"

 

It was an amateur's argument, one he had heard countless times. Though he didn't generally care about what the common rabble thought, he had an aversion to ignorance and did not wish to be surrounded by it on their journey back to the College. "The prophets receive flash visions of many things, some of which are possible futures. With these visions come a few nuggets of what might come to pass, but the majority of them are filled with meaningless drivel. On occasion, the collective force of prophets manages to piece together something worth considering, but mostly, they only clutter matters with vague guesses."

 

"They predicted last year's drought in Klahae," argued one guard.

 

"Don't be a fool," Lorenez replied sourly. "The prophets had almost nothing to do with that."

 

The guard frowned and blinked behind his helmet's visor. "But they warned that stores needed to be laid the year before so that the people would have enough for the next."

 

The wizard let out an audible sigh. "No, the seers warned of that bit. The prophets only snuck in like they always do and claimed the credit as part of some obscure prophecy in a book not read in three hundred years. Since nobody can understand a quarter of what their prophecies say, nobody can dispute them."

 

This left all of the guards in a state of slight confusion. Sensing that another question was forthcoming, Lorenez decided to simply head it off before they wasted more of this time. "The seers see things in the short term, and unlike the prophets, their visions always come true in some form or fashion. They foresaw famine and dry earth in Klahae and warned about the drought. The prophets pounced on it and, with the support of the Tetrand, proclaimed it prophecy."

 

"Wait, so the prophets didn't see what was coming?"

 

"No, not at all," the wizard replied. "They took credit for what the seers saw. The priests were quick to take care of the rest as they preached the prophecy as some sort of divine revelation given to the prophets. The seers, as usual, were almost entirely uncredited."

 

One guard, the man who Lorenez took as their leader, crossed his arms and huffed. "You speak as though the priests are lying and misleading the faithful."

 

Of course he was, but he couldn't simply say that aloud. It was hardly a secret that the College of Wizards had not gotten along with the Tetrand or the priests in many centuries. The Order of Prophets had long used the Way for protection and to elevate themselves as messengers of the Tetrarchy. The wizards were growing tired of it, and, if recent events were any indication, so was the Cloister of Seers.

 

The seers had frequently been on the fence regarding the Tetrand. Some years they would actively court the priests and others they would alienate them. To Lorenez, it seemed that they were simply fickle and were jealous of whenever the prophets and the Tetrand were particularly close. At those times, they would usually try to find a way to wedge themselves into the good graces of the Tetrand to offset the favor shown to the prophets. Other times, they wanted nothing to do with the Wayic leaders and were content to be left in the shadows.

 

They had deviated from this pattern only recently, namely after the great prophecy that had shaken the Royal Court a few months ago. This time, instead of rushing to garner favor from the Tetrand in a time when the prophets were more popular than ever, they had gone the opposite direction entirely. Though it wasn't widely known, Lorenez had overheard rumors of secret meetings between the Head Sister of the Seers and the Grandmaster Wizard himself. What such meetings consisted of, he could only guess.

 

"I would never say such a thing, guardsman," Lorenez replied. "The priests are faultless in their desire to serve the Tetrarchy. However, I do not believe that all of the prophets are the same. They are crafty men and greedy for power. It is entirely possible that they are capable of misguiding otherwise well meaning priests for their own ends."

 

"And what ends would those be?" asked a guard, one whom Lorenez didn't think had spoken yet.

 

In response, the wizard shrugged. "I do not know. I am but a simple wizard, one charged with combating the vile taint of necromancy. Surely we can all agree that such things transcend any politics or personal differences." That at least, seemed to satisfy them and allowed him a few more minutes of silence.

 

"What do wizards normally do when they aren't out finding necromancers or healing people?" a guard asked.

 

Lorenez rolled his eyes and replied sardonically, "We spend all of our time reading dusty books, practicing our magic, meditating alone, and answering inane questions."

 

Some of the guards caught on to his tone, but the one who asked the question was apparently not burdened by the gods with an overabundance of intelligence. "That sounds pretty boring. I am glad I am not a wizard."

 

"Yes, it is good that you aren't," he replied genuinely. Young wizards with intelligence and perception such as this one rarely survived their own ignorance. Magic was a dangerous thing and could consume the caster if they weren't careful. More to prevent them from asking more questions than out of a desire to talk, he added, "Wizards are more or less like other people, we just do a lot more studying. Just because we can cast magic doesn't mean we are not human. We think, feel, and behave just like the non-gifted."

 

Another guard, the one who seemed to be their leader, asked, "Then tell me, sir wizard, is it true that all wizards take vows ne'er to touch a woman?"

 

The wizard genuinely wondered where people thought up these sorts of things. "No, it is not," he replied through clenched teeth.

 

"Then why is it that nobody ever sees wizards with women?"

 

"Because we so often have other things occupying our time that prevent us from wasting it in taverns or frivolous parties," he snapped. "Rest assured, there are many wizards who have female companions, some who even marry. There is nothing in our Dictates that prevent unions of that type."

 

"Then do you have a lady friend?"

 

Out of nowhere, Lorenez saw flashes of silky black hair and lush, red painted lips before him. He saw the curious red eight pointed star with the white swirls that she always wore around her neck. He could feel the warmth of soft hands on his chest and the curves of the feminine form beneath his own. He could see the rich, dark skin of her neck inviting him to kiss it. His nose was filled with the subtle scent of the spices that always surrounded her, the ones that came from her homeland and were so hard to find here. Eyes the color of honey bored into him with an intensity that took his breath away. Lastly, before they faded away, he saw a distinct image of a young woman, framed in shadow, alone with tears streaming down her cheeks. The woman was fleeing from dark shadows, but he could not make out what they were or what her face looked like. Try as he might, it was all covered in darkness. At last, everything swirled together and vanished into nothingness.

 

So abrupt were the visions that Lorenez's feet missed a step and he nearly tumbled into the dirt of the road. The power of them was tangible and left his palms sweaty and his breath ragged. He felt as though he had been up all night practicing multi-phased wards with Master Wizard Muldan. Sweat trickled down his back and his fingertips were tingling.

 

He didn't realize he had said anything until one of the guards asked, "Who is Vadansha?"

 

"Nobody," he said quickly. "Just someone I used to know."

 

He was so distracted in trying to figure out what happened that he nearly missed the response. "Is that the name of your lady?"

 

With a snarl, he flicked his hands and the guard who spoke out flew several feet and landed on his rump. "It is none of your business," he snapped. The other five men stared at him in shock and began to back away from him. None made the mistake of reaching for weapons—they knew that they stood no chance against a wizard if it came down to combat. Now in no mood to deal with their pestering, he growled irritably, "Leave me in peace. Return to your barracks for the day." They paused only long enough to help the one guard up to his feet before fleeing down the road. Somewhere, on the edge of his mind, Lorenez knew that this wasn't the sort of thing that would play well when he returned to the College, but right now, he didn't care.

 

There was magic involved in what happened, that much Lorenez knew. He wasn't entirely sure what had happened, but there was something important. It was a trigger of some sorts, but he had no clue as to what it was about. His mind sought the source of the trigger, but couldn't come up with a definitive point of origin. It could have been some outside source, a hidden ward he had inadvertently crossed. He doubted that because there was no sign of such a thing. It also might have been a key phrase spoken by the guards, something that triggered those memories within him. He had seen such magic before, but not in a very long time.

 

With a sharp intake of breath, his eyes widened. She was capable of such magic. Why would she cast such a spell upon him, especially after what happened? He racked his mind trying to determine when she would have done such a thing and could find nothing. The sort of spells that would set such triggers within someone's subconscious were tricky and required time. Usually the subject was unable to resist and then had their memories blotted out after the process. It was common enough among the ungifted, but to do such a thing to a wizard…

 

He shook his head to clear it and drive away the tingle that ran down his back. If she was capable of such things when he knew her, then she was truly among the most gifted of all of her kind.

 

Today had provided three new mysteries. First was this mysterious cube that he had found in the abandoned house. The second was how such powerful memories had been planted into his mind without his remembering the spell that was used. The third, and most disturbing, was why she had placed those memories into him and why she would want him to remember these things now of all times.

 

 

 

Master Prophet Xalent frowned as he watched the young wizard standing there alone on the road. With the help of a charm that altered and concealed his presence, he had been carefully following the group ever since they left the abandoned house. He could hear snatches of conversation now and then, but not all of it.

 

He remained silent as the unwitting wizard received the message and remained hidden. It was happening, that much he knew. The gods were gracious, offering good with the bad. There was a great temptation to reveal himself and speak to the wizard, but these sorts of things generally reacted poorly to intervention.

 

While he had knowledge of what was happening and what this would mean, he was powerless to stop it. Sometimes, being aware of the future was a great and tremendous burden that he did not enjoy one bit. His insight into prophecy and the future gave him the comfort of hope that things would turn out well. However, knowing the future also meant that he knew some of the terrible things that had to happen before good could triumph.

 

He waited until the hapless wizard was a tiny speck on the horizon before making his own way back to the city. Even with his charm, he had to be careful. If it was known that the Master Prophet himself was outside the Tower of Estar without an escort, things would go very poorly for him and the entire Order. The charm he wore concealed his features as well as most traces of the magic he could wield, but that didn't make it fool proof. A moderately well trained wizard or sorceress with sufficient focus could penetrate the magical shroud around him and learn his true identity. Even an observant ungifted could sense something was wrong if there was too much interaction.

 

Xalent was careful to keep his cloak wrapped tightly around him and his hood up over his head when he approached the city gates. It was fortunate that the autumn was colder than normal because it many others were bundled up in the same manner. The guards didn't give him a second look as he merged into the steady stream of people coming in and going out of the bustling city.

 

He had heard it said that three quarters of a million people lived within or just outside the city's walls. He wasn't sure if that were true or not, but there were certainly more people than he could count milling through the streets going about their business. Being so close to the walls meant that he had to wade through a seemingly endless number of merchants and shopkeepers all trying to convince the pedestrians why their wares were superior or absolutely necessary to purchase. Xalent found them all fascinating, but he was not interested in lingering because he didn't want to risk his charm failing at the wrong time.

 

He kept his head down and was able to get through the outer ring of the city and in toward the Tower of Estar at its center. In this quarter, the streets were quieter with fewer people. Instead of markets or vending stands, houses lined the street. The closer to the center he got, the larger those houses were and the more careful he had to be. Wizards and mages often frequented these houses for various purposes ranging from healing those who could afford it to earning a little extra money by tutoring rich children.

 

There was one moment when he saw a man in red robes of a Second Class mage walking straight toward him that he tensed up and prepared to make a run for it. Such mages were at the level of being a threat to him since they were strong enough to overcome his ward. Just as he was about to start off down a back alley, someone called out to the mage and drew him off to the courtyard of a well to do house. Xalent wasted no time in scrambling behind the mage's back and to relative safety.

 

There were no other encounters with gifted individuals for the rest of his trip to the house that was his destination. The house was an expensive and highly desired one less than a hundred yards from the security ring around the Wall of Silence that surrounded the Tower. Unbeknownst to the Prophet's Guard and just about anyone else in Teladia, the house was owned by the Akorias family who had long been secret supporters of the prophets. Centuries ago in 3E 792, Val Akorias had been angered at how prophets were treated and decided to take action. After conspiring with the great Master Prophet Jokatas, they decided to do something about the situation. Over the course of two years, they personally constructed a tunnel that went from the man's basement to one of the most unused storerooms below the Tower.

 

Val Akorias had no idea the true motivations behind Jokatas' decision to risk the destruction of all of the Order of Prophets. The well meaning man, while brave, had no true idea of how dangerous his proposal had been. If the Prophet's Guard had discovered the tunnel, they would have immediately purged the Tower of all life just as a precaution. So great was the threat that only the directing Master Prophet and Mistress Seer knew about it.

 

Xalent had no idea how the Prophet Aitin, himself only a mere Confirmed Prophet, had found it, but that was the only way that he could think of for the young man to have escaped the Tower unseen. Knowing how necessary it was for the prophets using the tunnel to have a way to come in and out without alerting anyone, Segan Akorias created a small trap door in 939 behind his house to allow people using the tunnel to come and go without him even being aware of it. Because of that, Tufas Akorias didn't even know if Aitin had come through the tunnel.

 

It wasn't a difficult thing to get back into the Tower, even if it wasn't exactly pleasant. The tunnel was dark, stuffy, and rather filthy. Even with the light coming from a small sphere of fire hovering above his palm, it was hard to see. The tunnel was heavily shielded with wards stolen from somewhere throughout the centuries so that people travelling within it could not be sensed by the gifted among the Guard. That shielding also had the unfortunate effect of dampening all light regardless of its source and adding to the sense of gloom that pervaded the entire structure.

 

When he was at last safely within the Tower, he was able to change into his proper black robes and, with some careful navigation, reintegrate himself into the common halls and act like normal. His first stop was to visit Mistress Seer Hedgeroth in her office.

 

"What is it?" a tired and impatient voice responded to his polite knocking. When she looked up from her work, her face relaxed and her voice softened considerably, "Ahh, Shruden, what is it that brings you to see me this evening?"

 

Xalent smiled with genuine but fleeting warmth. "It has begun, Aelsa, just as your daughters foresaw."

 

The seer scrambled to her feet and hissed admonishingly, "Not here, old man, or you will doom us all!"

 

Though she was four years his senior, she had been blessed by the gods with looks of a woman in her late fifties rather than the seventy-one years she had actually lived. Because he looked his proper age, she often called him an old man. It had initially started as a joke, but it had no become habit.

 

She only relaxed when the door to her office was closed and warded with an anti-eavesdropping spell. "Are you sure it has happened?"

 

Xalent nodded. "I witnessed it with my own eyes. The bait has been set and the mouse has taken it."

 

Hedgeroth massaged her temples and sat back down in her chair. "This is too soon, things are not yet ready."

 

"I know that, but the gods do not work on our timetables."

 

With anxiety in her eyes, she asked, "Which one was it?" She drew herself up and held her chin high hoping to take the news face on.

 

"Paluthan's Branch," was all that Xalent needed to say in order to deflate her entirely. She sagged in her chair and let out a single moan.

 

"Who is the wizard?" she asked after a few seconds. "Anyone we know?"

 

"He is one called Lorenez, out of the necromancy branch. He was hunting necromancers and came across it."

 

She released a deep breath before muttering, "No wonder we kept sensing death perverted in our visions. I was wondering how that came into play."

 

"There were no necromancers and I could not sense any necromancy in the area," Xalent replied with one brow arched in curiosity.

 

The seer waved his comments away, "You should know better. Our visions are dominated by perception, not necessarily fact. What we see is always true if interpreted correctly, but it is often confusing and muddled. Was everything else as we saw?"

 

"Yes, not that there was much to go on." It was rare that the visions of a seer and the prophecy of a prophet coincided. For both to have been warned of this day had been too stark a sign for either to ignore. What happened on this day had confirmed an important branch of prophecy and invalidated three others. Paluthan had been a prophet hundreds of years ago who had written of the events that were now coming about. While there were no specific ties to the Master of Magic in his prophecies, it was long suspected—and now confirmed—that they were set in the same time.

 

She slapped her hands on her desk and said wearily, "I am too old for this, Shruden. We both are. I had hoped to be back in Mewela's warm embrace before the Coming Darkness struck, but the gods have seen it fit to place this burden upon my shoulders."

 

Xalent tried to smile, but his lips just wouldn't obey and the result was more of a grimace. "I am glad it was you, Aelsa. At least it is someone I know and trust rather than a new Mistress Seer. Transitions are always a hard time, putting this on a newly ascended Mistress would be cruel and dangerous."

 

Hedgeroth's eyes lit up in appreciation of what Xalent was trying to do, but, like him, she could not force a smile. "It does not matter now. What is done is done and things have been set into motion that cannot be undone."

 

"I know," said Xalent with regret and fear. "There is no going back now, we can only hope that the gods have worked things out for the ultimate good."

[Lord Ar-Pharazon]

I used the GIMP, a free software. I also used some free stock brushes for the mountains and forest as well as free stock for the terrain.

 

Well, props. I think it looks really sharp. It is definitely a compliment to the story.

[Travis]

Are you going to start reading the story itself?