Sci Fi & Fantasy / Shadow of Chea'Laern: Chapter 9 - Farewell (Analysis)
Chapter 9
Farewell
She couldn’t believe how well she slept! And her dream: so detailed and full of images of her mother. She believed the events of her dream were accurate, despite that some took place before her birth. It was as if her mother’s spirit was with her throughout the night, showing her the life she lived that had been kept hidden from Kaia-mei: her studies in Nimbdell and her travels before that, her accomplishments and philosophies of life. Kaia-mei believed she even witnessed her own birth from her mother’s perspective; and saw her mother holding her tight, lovingly, every day until her death. One could easily brush off the dream as just that and nothing more, but Kaia-mei clung to the images desperately, ready to believe that her mother truly spoke to her and told her that the hole of depression she’d sunk into was not acceptable. She was ready to surrender to life, to accept both the good and the bad, and move onward. She was ready to live, to experience her childhood in freedom as her mother had.
Kaia-mei stood and stretched, absorbing the sights and smells of the beautiful dawn as though she were dawn herself; a new beginning. She was still afraid to meet her birth father, for her dream showed nothing about him, and still considered Gurandi the only father she ever knew. But she felt closer to accepting his death as part of life. No one could replace him. That didn’t mean there wasn’t room for one to stand next to him in her heart, though her birth father had a tall ladder to climb to reach Gurandi’s side. Suddenly the road seemed inviting.
“Good morning,” Secile beamed. The mage had just finished packing the horses and now stooped over the embers of the campfire where she cooked breakfast.
Kaia-mei skipped over to her, famished for how little she’d consumed on the journey. The eggs and the vegetable broth smelled delicious.
Secile noted her coveting expression and smiled.
Kaia-mei was tenfold hungrier for apprenticeship now that she felt like her old self again. If given the chance, she wouldn’t hesitate to dive into the pool of knowledge. “Teach me magic?” she pleaded like a child for a bedtime story.
Secile chuckled. “Little steps, anxious one! There are simpler disciplines you must perfect before you can practice, else things might get messy.”
“But my mother could after only a few months,” protested the almost giddy girl. It wasn’t a complaint, but more of a baited hook for more information.
Secile dropped the shaved stick she used to stir the broth and looked at the girl. “I didn’t tell you that.”
Kaia-mei didn’t reply. She wasn’t certain she wanted Secile to know about her dream. Whether it was fear for how the mage would react or fear that she would discredit the accuracy of the dream was irrelevant. She simply wanted to be the sole embracer of her newfound joy, at least for now.
Secile eyed her with friendly suspicion for a moment before continuing her stirring.
“You’re awake,” exclaimed Caize happily, trotting in from the woods.
“Where’d you go?” Kaia-mei replied, remembering well Secile’s warnings of the dangers in the woods. She was surprised she didn’t notice he was gone until now.
“Not far in,” he assured his friend. “I could still see and hear you both. We ready to go? I want to see more of the woods. It’s wonderful in there!”
“Right after breakfast,” said the mage, to which Caize gave an appreciative hoot.
They all had to share Secile’s only stone bowl, taking turns as they ate and talked more about Nimbdell, and it was the only thing left to pack when they were finished. True to her word, they then entered the woods.
Some say the woldwoods contain a rift in time and space, and those who dared venture within would end up in another plane of existence, or just disappear to nothingness. Others say the woods are haunted, that without spiritual protection one would be driven mad—whether by will of the ghosts or simply by experiencing the haunt of the forest. Then there were those who considered both stories plausible and decided it best to avoid the truth of the place, as well as the place itself, to be safe.
The mage and her two companions walked their horses on as straight a path as was possible toward Nimbdell, enjoying the warmth, sights and smells despite the dreary atmosphere. Secile had to remind eager Caize of the few dangers of the woldwood’s wildlife a couple times: once when he forgot to watch where he stepped and tangled himself in the strange foliage—some of which seemed as alive as some of the animals. Luckily his horse’s instincts were sharp, for Secile was not paying attention to Caize’s steps and if the horse hadn’t whinnied and snorted and pawed the ground in warning, Caize would’ve procured a leg full of very poisonous barbs. Secile would’ve spent the better part of the day carefully plucking the barbs from his leg and treating the stings—a process that, if not done correctly, could’ve rendered his leg without feeling for the rest of his life. And even if she were successful in the procedure, Caize’s leg would require at least three hours to recover, to regain feeling and reduce the swelling. That was time and energy Secile did not want to spend.
“Please be careful,” she warned Caize again. “We can’t afford to have you incapacitated. Nor do I want you to experience the horrors of this place, so please watch your step.”
Caize felt foolish, and nodded a silent apology.
Kaia-mei felt sorry for him, but she knew the mage was right. No matter how bad they wanted to see Nimbdell, safety should be their only priority in these woods. She could almost feel the danger as though it were a tangible thing surrounding them at all times. Since they entered the forest, Kaia-mei had felt eyes upon them and a strange presence in the air. A presence seeming unbefitting of the world she knew. Then again, she mused helplessly, how could one know a world when they’d never been outside just one of its small valleys? But whether the owner of the presence she felt belonged here or not, she knew one thing for certain: someone or something watched their every move.
They took their first break at noon, the sun directly above them in the cloudless sky. Caize’s luster for the forest-walk had died away within a few hours, for the scenery remained constant. Now he was just eager to reach Nimbdell.
“So who will be taking us the rest of the way?” he asked, remembering Secile’s admission of changing escorts.
“Their names are Amberley, a third-year student of Nimbdell, and an unpleasant but trustworthy mercenary, Daxe.”
“And where will you go?” asked Kaia-mei, stepping around one of the dangerous barbed plants.
“She’s searching for something for her graduation quest,” said Caize, remembering one of their first conversations, when Kaia-mei was still in a trance.
Secile chuckled. “True,” she admitted. “Though I know not where to start looking. Chea’Laern is my best guess.” She tried to pass it off as a tedious search so they would not ask to join.
A quick, refreshing meal and some small talk later, they were on their way again.
Kaia-mei really missed all of Gurandi’s lessons, and she needed something to help push them aside for a later day. “Is there anything you can teach me, Master Secile?” she inquired one quiet moment. She accentuated the mage’s title to show she knew Secile had the ability to teach, for, indeed, the mage had taught her a lot about the hierarchy and rules of Nimbdell, even described in great detail the layout of the part of the Hosttowers available to first-year students, and the purposes for many of the rooms in those areas. The only details she’d left out were the practices and training that took place in those rooms.
Secile stared at the girl a moment, both pleased and curious with the nearly instant change of perspective, wondering just how deep-rooted the girl’s apparent revelation ran. “You mean besides what I’ve already taught you?” she winked. Then her smile faded. She wanted to be Kaia-mei’s mentor, would have fought for the job if she weren’t on her graduation quest, but she could not break the rules.
“I’m sorry, Kaia-mei,” she said sincerely. “I can’t mentor you, at least not yet. I can prepare you for Nimbdell, though, like I’ve done thus far.” Kaia-mei’s crestfallen expression stung Secile, and the mage decided she needed to find some kind of compromise. She didn’t want Kaia-mei wishing another mentored her during her studies, or worse; not putting forth any effort until Secile came back. She searched the rules ingrained in her head for any loopholes, thought back to when Lucimina Prieza was her peer, seeking a way to give Kaia-mei a taste of what’s to come.
Then it hit her. One major tenet at Nimbdell was that all magic came from within, that one simply needed to know where to look and learn how to control it. The Masters at Nimbdell were more like guides than teachers, helping the student to find their own magic source. Some left Nimbdell too frustrated with their failures to continue. They were unable to see inside their own hearts because they did not believe the source of magic was hidden inside humans, that magic was in the world itself all around them. They were partially right, Secile knew. For the land and all its living creatures did have their own magic. But the world’s magic and human magic were two completely different, separate energy tanks. Until recently, humans believed the two could not be combined. What fools our ancestors were, Secile mused. For when the two magics were used in harmony, were joined as one for an unselfish righteous purpose, it became the most powerful of all magic. However, Nimbdell banned any research into discovering the ability to join the two magics for good reason. If such knowledge fell into the hands of evil, one could nearly conquer the world—or destroy it.
And so it was that Secile came to an impasse. She believed she found a way to circumvent the rules and give Kaia-mei a headstart, but she couldn’t deny the possibility that doing so might change the future of Nimbdell, and no one could say for certain if the change would be for better or worse. If Kaia-mei was anything like her mother, and Secile believed that was very much the case, they need not worry about a problematic change.
The mage smiled suddenly, a memory of Lucimina replaying in her mind. The memory gave her an idea, a test to see if Kaia-mei inherited her mother’s integrity, wisdom and strong spirit. She turned to the now silent girl, a grin on her face, and produced a slender crystal rod from her robes.
“I may not be allowed to teach you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t teach yourself. Here, and good luck,” Secile encouraged her, handing the rod over. She wasn’t concerned for anyone’s safety, for the rod’s magic worked on its own when its wielder knew not how to use it. The crystal was designed for beginning students as a placement test. Its real magic was quite potent indeed, a reward for the many illusionary lessons leading up to its real power.
“So if magic exists inside us, how do objects like this get their power?” asked Kaia-mei.
“Good question,” smiled Secile. “Unfortunately you’ll learn the answer from your mentor. That is one of the lessons I cannot teach you.”
Kaia-mei blew a frustrated sigh, but was disappointed only until she turned her focus to the crystal in her hand. She couldn’t think of where to start. How was one supposed to teach themselves how to summon their inner magic, to touch their own soul? As if the rod itself answered her question, she suddenly realized that the magic could not be summoned. That notion sounded absurd to Kaia-mei on second thought. The magic is there, always, in everyone. One can’t touch their soul because they are one with it. She stared at the rod, trying everything from mentally asking it questions to visually picking apart every crack seeping into the clear quartz. No answers.
Finally she took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Then another, and again until she felt relaxed, docile, taken by a rhythm; calm enough to clear her head as she was taught before Gurandi died. She felt as though many minutes had passed, but refused to worry about her companions getting bored or impatient with her. She steeled her determination, continued to slow her breathing and cut out all focus but the tiny crystalline splinters in the rod. She didn’t search them as before, hardly even saw them, but used them as mental shackles to keep her concentration tied. Soon she saw the many swirling colors swimming from one end of the crystal to the other, licking at the cracks as if begging for release. They all called to her, each with different desires. She could guess, fairly certain, at a few of the colors’ purposes. She wasn’t sure how, only that when she narrowed focus to a single color it seemed common sense that that color’s abilities served particular, limited purposes.
Kaia-mei felt a peculiar affinity to the lighter of the two greens, and decided that was the appropriate color for the moment. Now what? She wondered. She began to fear she took too long, but tucked the distraction away easily and shifted her concentration even deeper. She concluded that the color could not tell her how to set it free. So she closed her eyes, still seeing the image in the darkness of her mind, and allowed her thoughts to flow. She felt the color, as though she lay in a great field of light green grass. She couldn’t see the change with her eyes closed, but all other colors save for the light green disappeared, the only remaining color filling the rod so thick it was no longer transparent.
Secile’s gasp made Kaia-mei’s eyes pop open.
“How…?” was all the stunned mage could react.
“Amazing, Kaia!” congratulated Caize.
“What?” asked Kaia-mei, truly confused as she looked all around trying to see what happened. Everything looked the same, except that the rod returned to normal. She thought maybe her result was fleeting, gone before she opened her eyes. Then it occurred to her that perhaps she changed something of her appearance, or worse, something about her physical form! “What did I do?” she queried, patting her clothes and searching her body for any abnormalities.
Finally she looked to the eyes of her companions for guidance, just as Secile stepped forward and knelt before her to inspect the ground.
“The grass, Kaia-mei,” explained the mage with awe. She brushed the light-green blades with her hand to be sure they weren’t an illusion. “You made it grow.”
Caize was speechless.
Kaia-mei looked down at her feet and sure enough, a small patch of bright green grass encircled her; very out of place in the dark and dreary woods. “Oh,” she replied, slightly disappointed. She was excited and proud that she’d produced results, but she’d hoped for something more profoud. She wasn’t certain she could claim credit for a feat she didn’t even know she performed.
“Oh?” Secile reiterated sarcastically. “Kaia-mei, you don’t even know the greatness you’ve just accomplished!”
That’s the problem, she thought to herself, keeping her frustration in check. She understood Secile’s excited response stemmed from something extraordinary in Kaia-mei’s performance, but she wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. She simply shook her head in affirmation of Secile’s observation and awaited the inevitable explanation.
“You used that rod in a way it was not meant to be used. A graduate could not have performed that task even if they were instructed how. It’s true powers aren’t revealed to students until they’ve mastered its beginner, illusionary abilities. Even so, when one knows how to draw out the rod’s true power, they can only replicate an inanimate object.”
“Replicate?” inquired Caize, not as knowledgeable with terminology as his friend.
“Create another object from the original,” Kaia-mei clarified for him, never taking her eyes from the mage. “Usually of much less quality.”
“Kaia-mei,” continued Secile. “You’ve created life.”
The girl shrugged, hardly considering grass “life.”
“No one in Nimbdell could do that.” She hid her jealousy well.
Kaia-mei felt much better about her first intentional attempt with magic, and she smiled and slightly blushed to show it, but the frustration for lack of controlled results remained.
“Imagine what you’ll be able to do at the turn of the year!” laughed Caize anxiously.
The implication struck Secile profoundly. What power will this one yield when—not if, for she was confident Kaia-mei would ascend within the order rather quickly—she became a master? The mage shook her head, shook the worries from her thoughts, and reminded herself of the nature of Kaia-mei’s character. She passed the purity test unlike any other could.
If anything, Secile thought with a smile, this one will help the world.
The creature watched them tred on in silence, waiting until they were out of sight before hopping down from the tree-limb to inspect the new growth in the forest. Perplexed, for the forest had not grown even a single new leaf in scores of decades, the creature knelt and sniffed the grass, running its long slender fingers across the top of the patch. A gift, decided the creature as it lifted its gaze to the direction the humans departed. It tapped a single finger to its broad, yellow forehead three times, then, with the same finger, ran the fingernail along the center of its scalp from the front to the back of its head. The gestures were of respect for the humans and would help the creature to remember who gave the wonderful gift to their home. It then flipped the cowl of its cloak up over its head, covering its long white mane of silky hair and pointy ears. They will not be forgotten.
And then there was only forest.
The last half of the journey through the woldwoods was quiet and uneventful. Shortly after Kaia-mei’s test, the trees and shrubs thinned enough to mount their horses and ride the rest of the way out—the only reason they reached the forest’s western edge as the sun began to set rather than after dark.
“We are lucky,” stated Secile when the wold came into view through the trees ahead. “Or someone was watching out for us. I expected to see at least one battle before we reached this point.”
“Too bad,” lamented Caize, half-serious.
When his companions regarded him incredulously he grinned wide. “We could have seen Kaia blast our enemies apart!”
Secile laughed, but cut it short and cleared her throat.
For Kaia-mei hardly smiled. She didn’t desire to kill anything again. Just the thought of it brought the walls of the cave up all around her, reminded her what her hands looked like soaked with another’s blood, and she shuddered. And now that they’d cleared the woldwoods, growing ever closer to Nimbdell, she realized just how nervous and frightened she still was about meeting her blood father. She hoped she could just jump right into the studies.
“Are you well?” Secile asked the contemplative girl, keeping her eyes on Caize as he rushed ahead and out onto the open wold.
Kaia-mei nodded. “Just scared,” she admitted.
Secile smiled, still peering ahead. Caize had stopped and turned sideways so he could see both his companions and the two riders approaching from the distant northwest.
“Fear not. You will soon make a friend who will help you find your way and your place in Nimbdell. Amberley is a fine student and a good companion. You can trust her with your life, as you have me.”
The riders disappeared into darkness as the sun dipped below the horizon, but it wasn’t long before a bright light cut through the night where they’d vanished.
“Are they the escorts?” asked Caize curiously.
“Definitely,” smiled Secile, recognizing the magical light source. She imagined Daxe complaining that the bright light would bring all the goblins in the world down on them, and she chuckled.
Kaia-mei and Caize were taken by surprise with the appearances of the new escorts. The mercenary looked as though he’d not seen a washroom or even a lake in years, and the young female was definitely the student of Nimbdell—with her long, flat red-brown hair and intelligent green eyes, clean robes and a few small pieces of jewelry: white pearl studs in her ears and a shiny silver chain about her neck, though if anything decorated the chain it was hidden in her robes.
“Well met, trickster!” Daxe’s grin nearly took in his ears.
Amberley came to a stop next to him, but remained silent. She was curious to hear any pieces of history between the mage and mercenary. She did steal a glance at Secile’s companions, though, for she was eager to meet them as well.
“Daxe,” Secile nodded in return. “Will you ever bathe?”
The mercenary’s belly-shaking laughter made Secile cringe. She was seriously hoping he had bathed.
“You’ve a good guide, here, lads,” Daxe offered to Kaia-mei and Caize, indicating Amberley with a dirty thumb. “As long as you can tolerate her evil trickery, of course. Then again, you’ve traveled with this one!” He laughed again as he pointed at Secile.
“That evil trickery saved your life yesterday,” Amberley reminded him. Of course he knew that already, she just thought it appropriate to give Secile some fuel to burn him back with.
Daxe nearly dropped off his horse for the wild gestures induced by his betrayed secret. “Shh, girl! I told you not to tell anyone!”
Which only made Secile laugh harder. “I knew it, oh proud, strong mercenary!” she smiled. “You’re just jealous you can’t find your own magic.”
He gave in, throwing his hands to the air in defeat, and let them have their victory. “Laugh on,” he urged. “For one day young Amberley here will be your boss.”
The student’s modesty overruled the humor of the moment. “Oh, no, no,” she confessed. “Master Secile will be Headmistress before I go on my graduation quest.”
“Unless Kaia get’s there first!” piped Caize, wanting to be part of the entertainment.
Kaia-mei blushed and shrank away from Amberley’s magical light, glaring at Caize for bringing her into the verbal competition.
“I’m surrounded by tricksters!” cried Daxe in feigned horror.
They spent the night sharing stories and laughing at each other’s shortcomings, mostly between Secile and Daxe though they kept most of their past to themselves. Amberley talked frequently with Kaia-mei and Caize about the wonders of Nimbdell, sounding much like Secile when they first met, and of as much of her life before the studies as she could remember. Kaia-mei felt connected with Amberley after that story, for the student was an orphan and never knew her real parents either. She was glad Amberley would be with her for a lot of her studies, and possibly when meeting her father. Suddenly their destination didn’t seem as threatening.
Caize listened to Daxe and Secile intently, enjoying their mirth and stories of Daxe’s travels around the world, while Amberley’s attention shifted solely to Kaia-mei. He couldn’t tell if the mercenary and mage liked each other or not. Theirs was a strange, confusing relationship.
They feasted and talked and laughed through the night around the warm campfire until the younger three of the five fell asleep. Then Secile and Daxe moved far enough from the sleepers to have a private conversation.
“Simyna informed you what we’re doing out here?” Secile stated more than asked.
Daxe nodded. “Said the artifact is more dangerous than she first believed, that you might need my help.”
“I don’t like it either, but we’ve put our pasts aside for a common cause before. Appears we’ll have to do it again.”
“Or we can dig it up and fix what needs fixing,” suggested the mercenary, showing uncharacteristic empathy and maturity.
Secile smiled to show she appreciated the gesture, but shook her head. “Someday,” she offered. “Now is not the time.”
Daxe nodded, slightly relieved. He wasn’t sure he was prepared for that talk yet, anyway.
“We’re going to Chea’Laern. I believe Vaulinquelitaya is there,” confided the mage after a moment of awkward silence.
“You’re the boss,” he smiled in reply. Then he saw something in Secile’s eyes that wiped the smile from his face. His stare prompted her to continue.
She hesitated, sorting through the words in her head for a witty way to crush the mercenary’s spirit. But she decided the moment needed no jest. “To make sure we arrive while the artifact is still in Chea’Laern, your horse must wear shoes of magical speed.”
He sighed and dropped his face into his palms. “Of course,” he replied dryly.
Secile couldn’t help herself. She patted his shoulders as she rose and said, “This way I won’t have to smell you, either.”
*
Creole, Brinney, Neeka and Vansea all gathered at the western grove to say farewell to Rahmina and her remaining soldiers. Brinney was the only one without a smile. She buried her face in the loose folds of clothing at Creole’s hip, peeking out occasionally.
“We appreciate your hospitality,” Rahmina offered with a deep bow. “And if ever you find yourselves in the southern kingdom, ask for me so I can return the favor. I will convince the king that his informants were misinformed; there is nothing for him in this valley.” She noticed Brinney’s peculiar behavior, then, and gave Creole a questioning look.
“I don’t think she wants you to go,” he chuckled in response.
Brinney shook her head emphatically and came out of hiding only long enough to coyly say, “They’ll still come, the bad ones will still come.”
“No, Brin. She’s leaving to ensure that won’t happen,” assured Creole.
“But it will!” she cried, tugging on her father’s tunic repeatedly.
Creole’s worries came back in a rush of flapping wings.
“Tell you what,” said Rahmina, kneeling before the agitated girl. “If I can’t stop them from coming, I’ll rush back here to warn you all so you can flee to safety.”
Brinney retreated back into her father’s clothes with nothing more to say. She did smile slightly, though, for hovering about Rahmina’s shoulders were lights that indicated she spoke the truth. But she still didn’t want the woman to leave.
For in her dream, even the wings couldn’t save them from the evil to come.
The village returned to normal; everyone going about their daily duties as though the army had never come. Creole spent most of the morning at Gurandi’s grave, in part to grieve but mostly to think about Kaia-mei and Caize and how proud Gurandi would be that his little girl was growing up and traveling the world. Sholee had acquired some kind of debilitating illness. Creole’s workload doubled with her in bed all day, which meant less time spent at Gurandi’s grave.
And so it was that Brinney managed to sneak away up the northern slope toward the caves. The voice in her dreams told her to come out here, to find something. It would not say what, nor did she have any mental pictures to work with. But she held her new necklace tight with one hand while navigating the steep, rocky terrain, for it gave her comfort. She’d walked for nearly an hour, enjoying the occasional squirrel sighting and the songbird’s symphony, when finally her pendant grew slightly warmer. She stopped, peering all around for anything out of the ordinary.
The pendant’s warmth increased when she looked up.
“Hey!” she called out, unsure if a set of ears was even nearby to receive her call. She only followed instinct. “Come out!”
No response. No movement save for the pine needles and bushes in the wind. She took a step forward, but something inside told her to stop and she did, scanning the area once more. Then she saw it.
“The wings,” she breathed in quiet awe. She gawked up at the tiny form watching her from the boughs for a moment before gathering the courage to speak again. “Come down,” she begged the creature, holding her pendant up high in the air.
The creature didn’t move, made not even a sound.
Brinney dropped her arm, disappointed. “They’re coming!” she half-whined. “The dead are coming.”
Still no response.
The amulet’s warmth died away as Brinney turned back for the village.
The fairy watched curiously as the little one made her way back down the slippery slope. Somehow the girl had spoken their language, had apparently sought out the fairy to relay a message and spoke in the fairy tongue as easily as if she were a fairy herself.
It had to be the pendant’s magic, thought the fairy. And what of the message? The dead are coming. The human child, so new to the world yet still able to access magic, was the only one in the village to notice fairy activity. And more intriguing to the winged creature was the fact that the child looked vaguely familiar, reminded the fairy of that day so very long ago when they helped save this very village from the evil wizard. If over a hundred years hadn’t passed since then, the fairy would’ve thought the girl to be the daughter of the only adult who’d listened to her warnings all those years ago, Mun’kolm Heidnaton. Perhaps she was a descendant? Mused the winged creature. That would be quite ironic, and how interesting for the fairy folk’s cause. The fairy smiled for the irony.
No matter how hard Mia’traline tried to stay out of the affairs of humans, something always arose to make that impossible.
*
The old king slept soundly, save for his wheezing breath, his new prized dagger beneath his pillow for security. He’d fallen asleep rather quickly considering someone was out to kill him, but whether the easiness came from his new weapon or the two guards at every entrance to his bedchambers was irrelevant. The important thing was he was resting in his old age, rejuvenating his body and mind for another day of survival.
A dark form stealthily slipped in from the window and dropped to the floor without a sound. The window was never ordered secured, for if one were to attempt to gain entrance that way at least one of the wall guards outside would have spotted either the slow climber or their equipment. But this one needed no equipment. Manipulating the planet’s gravitational energy fields to its advantage, this one could climb rocks or buildings or trees as fast as if it had wings to lift it up.
He scanned the room with a new set of eyes, a new mind and even a new perspective on life. He’d never felt better. It was as though he’d awoken in a new life, and every struggle, every meaningless goal of his past life, was now insignificant. Humans, he muttered distastefully to himself as he gazed upon all the baubles, trinkets, decorations and other petty riches scattered about the room; all the unnecessary mortal bindings that held the human race back from becoming something greater, something frighteningly powerful. From becoming what he had become.
This creature, known as Burkae no longer, came for the device that gave him his new life. And, though it was hidden, he knew exactly where to find it. Vaulinquelitaya called to him, begging him to release it from the pathetic old human’s possession.
As the creature towered over the sleeping king, and the pillow that now held captive his god figure, he wondered if the satisfaction would be greater in simply tearing the old bag of bones to shreds, or waking him up and allowing him to see his doom before being delivered unto the hands of death. But the grudges of his past life were no longer significant to him, and he pragmatically decided to not risk a messy encounter.
King Roanindae never awoke from his dreams.
Vaulinquelitaya stopped its spawn from destroying the king’s mortal coil beyond recognition, for it could be of use to them. So he dove a stiff hand through the king’s sternum and bit a chunk off his neck. He then wasted no time in plucking the sentient dagger from beneath the pillow, and departed back the way he came in.
The king’s death was not discovered until dawn. And even then, the only traces of him they found were his blood-soaked sheets and a chunk of rotting flesh on the floor. Kahreesa ordered a thorough search of the castle immediately. She then sent two guards to give word to all gate sentries to deny passage in or out of the large city, and two more to organize a mandatory meeting in the audience hall for everyone in the castle. She thought herself both clever and lucky, for not only did she play the roll of second to the king to perfection, but Roanindae’s death cost not even a copper piece and very little effort.
“I knew something was amiss when the halls suddenly grew eerily quiet three hours ago,” commented the only guard accompanying Kahreesa. “I never expected this…”
“There were supposed to be guards everywhere,” interjected the suddenly curious witch. “Roanindae tripled the castle guards before going to bed.”
The guard nodded, not following her reasoning.
“Imbecile!” she roared suddenly. “That means the king might not be the only one dead or missing.” Perhaps this wasn’t just a simple assassination, she thought to herself. At first she’d assumed Burkae’s friend succeeded where he failed, but further analysis made her realize that the blond man could not have known about Burkae’s mission. She took Burkae straight from the tavern to the secret dungeon entrance. And the fact that guards were missing, as well as the king and Burkae’s corpse, indicated some kind of a grand scheme or a professional assassin with more agendas than just eliminating the king. She was about to cast a location spell on Roanindae when a pair of guards called out from a nearby hallway that the king had been found.
Kahreesa nearly plowed into them as she turned the corner. The guard accompanying her skidded to a stop inches from her back.
“We found him!” cried one guard, his eyes betraying that there was more to the tale. “Near the dungeon cells.”
Kahreesa read the fear and confusion in their expressions as clearly as if they’d projected an image of what they saw directly into her mind, and awaited elaboration.
“He’s not himself, though. We think he’s contracted some kind of disease,” explained one of them hesitantly. They wished she’d just go see for herself.
“You mean he’s not dead?” she exclaimed, masking her disappointment with excited confusion. “A chunk was taken from his neck!”
The speaking guard nodded affirmatively while the other turned around and vomited on the floor. “Nasty wound he has.”
Kahreesa grew impatient. “Take me to him!” she demanded.
“Of course, my lady. Two of our strongest are holding him.”
“He is restrained?” she nearly screamed, seeming about to shackle the guards on charge of treason.
“You will see…” was all the calmer of the two could respond.
And she did. When they arrived at the spot there were half a dozen corpses on the floor, not one of them belonging to the king.
“What is going on here?” demanded Kahreesa, growing more agitated and frustrated by the second. The three guards shied away from her, afraid for their lives and completely at a loss for any explanation. The one with the weak stomach vomited again.
“I…I don’t know. They were alive when we left them…”
Kahreesa examined the wounds on the corpses carefully, figuring it to be their only clues. “These men were not killed by humans,” she declared confidently.
“But no reports of animals…” one guard started to say.
The guard with the weak stomach cut him short, “Look!”
They all followed the man’s pointing finger to the shadows behind Kahreesa, where something moved.
“Stop there!” commanded the new leader of Chea’Laern as she turned about.
The shadows responded by exploding into motion, a dark from leaping out and taking Kahreesa to the floor. She screamed as jagged, bloodied teeth dug into her neck and extremely sharp nails pierced her belly.
The guards watched in horror until her screams died away, too paralyzed by fear and disgust to realize their error in hesitance. Then the creature was done and it rose and turned to face them. One step forward brought it into the revealing light of the nearest torch.
“My king,” gasped one soldier as the other two turned to run.
But three more of the once-human creatures shuffled toward them from their only escape route, bloody clothes and bleeding wounds apparent. The last thing the two guards heard were the dying screams of their doomed companion behind them.
*
She watched her ill mother sleep. Sholee’s light brown hair was matted to her face and darkened with sweat. Brinney grew sad for the weakened color of her mother’s lights. She knew that something could be done to give her strength, to return the radiance to her mother’s energy, but the young girl knew not how to connect with them on the necessary level. Like when she wanted to find Gurandi’s lights and free them from their prison, she was helpless; could only watch and wonder. She felt her mother’s pain, and knew it was only getting worse.
Brinney pulled the pendant out of her tunic and held it in her small hands, the chain still around her neck. She mentally asked it to help her find the way, but there was no response. The wings would know what to do, she decided. But how could she get them to listen to her?
An image of a dark cave on a hillside entered her mind, and she remembered the first time she heard the wings was when they found Kaia-mei up by the caves.
Creole was out collecting firewood and vegetables for soup, and wouldn’t likely return for a couple hours. Brinney knew this because she’d accompanied them on the errands before. Her hand barely covered Sholee’s forehead when Brinney touched her, the only way she could say goodbye.
Brinney reached the cave just over an hour later, nothing but a biscuit in her pocket and a knife at her hip. She stared at the frightening entrance for a long moment, too afraid to go in. Not that she’d intended to enter in the first place, for she hoped the wings would be outside, but now she began to wonder if she would have to in order to find them.
She managed to inch closer, close enough to feel a slight breeze from the tunnel tickle her cheeks. And then the hole in the rock was gone, replaced by seemingly solid stone.
Brinney looked around, thinking maybe she’d moved or turned around and the cave was actually somewhere nearby. There was no mistaking she was in the correct spot; she remembered the day Kaia-mei came here clearly. But in the stead of a gaping black hole was now nothing but huge gray-white boulders. Upon realization that she had not moved, however, that the cave disappeared before her very eyes, she squared her shoulders and became determined to solve the mystery.
The details about her became blurred as she relaxed her eyes, focusing on thin air immediately in front of the great boulder that once was a cave. Borders melded together; the many different colors became one big blurry image; the ground became an extension of her feet. Brinney became one with the area about her.
And there she saw it, the dark cave returned. Stretching across the black oval in her blurry mural-of-a-world was a thin, wavering sheet of frosted energy. She smiled and let her vision slip back to normal, the ullusion of rock still there to deceive her mortal’s eyes. But she knew it was a lie, and she stepped through it into the cave.
“No! Go back!” cried a melodic high-pitched voice ahead. The fairy spoke in her own tongue, for the language of humans had evolved over the years and she doubted the child would understand the tongue of her ancestors.
With the pendant around her neck, Brinney understood the words as though it were her own father speaking to her. “Help me,” she responded immediately. “Mother is sick.”
The fairy now held no doubt that this human was not like the others. How did she know the rock was an illusion? And she had to be either desperate or extremely courageous to the point of stupidity to hike up here with nothing but a knife, to enter the cave without even a torch! Either way, the fairy was intrigued.
“Go back to the village. I’ll find you.”
The fluttering of wings signified the end of their meeting. With a huge grin on her face, Brinney ran most of the way back to her cabin.
She stood on the porch for a moment, scanning the trees and listening for any sign of the fairy, but the shouts of nearby playing children were too distracting. So she opened the door and stepped inside.
A light and brief buffet of wind brushed the top of her head, and the sound of fluttering wings accompanying it told Brinney her help had arrived. She quickly closed the door and ran to her mother’s bedside.
She knew the fairy was in the room despite her failure to locate the elusive creature, so she waited patiently.
Apparently satisfied no one else was home, the fairy dropped from the shadows in the ceiling to land lightly on the bed. She was quite a sight for a human to see, especially a human child. With purple eyes and silver hair, standing a full six inches with yellowish skin, the creature looked like a doll Brinney might play with.
“Alishiscina,” the fairy introduced with a bow, “though to anyone else you must continue to call me the wings.”
Brinney looked forlornly at her ill mother.
Alishiscina read her body language and hopped up to the pillow. She touched the woman’s forehead, much like Brinney did when she left to find the fairy, and blew on her own hand.
“Can you help?” asked the frightened girl anxiously.
Alishiscina held her tiny hand there a moment before removing it and looking to Brinney, her head shaking slowly and sadly. “She is infected with something.”
Brinney looked confused.
“If the illness was an outside source, I could help her. Since it is caused by something inside her, I cannot.”
Brinney’s crestfallen expression wounded Alishiscina deeply.
“All I can do is mix a potion to slow the infection,” offered the fairy with a sympathetic whisper. It was an offer she gave hesitantly, a favor borderlining treason against Mia’traline, and yet she could not abandon this promising, intriguing child.
“Please hurry,” whimpered Brinney.
“I will be back when the sun is gone,” promised the fairy just as the cabin’s front door swung open.
Creole felt, but didn’t see, something rush by his head and out the door behind him before he closed it. “Was that another bird?” he asked aloud, seeing Brinney in the doorway to his room.
Brinney didn’t answer.
Creole shrugged and helped her father put his cache of vegetation in the cauldron hanging in the hearth, which had evaporated half of the full pot in the three hours Creole was gone.
“I’m going to chop some logs while these boil,” Creole told his daughter as he kissed her forehead. “You’ll be good on your own again?”
She nodded and stirred the soup with a large oaken ladle Creole crafted in his childhood.
“That’s my girl.”
Creole paused at the door and looked back to his daughter, blowing a deep sigh. The valley used to be a great life. It was difficult for him to absorb all that’s happened in the past few days; an entire uprooting of the comfortable pace at which they lived. He thought of going to Nimbdell for help with his wife, or the great Chea’Laern marketplace, or anywhere with a better idea of how to restore her health than his useless resources. But how could he risk losing his daughter on the road? And he wasn’t sure if Sholee’s condition would worsen if he moved her; was too afraid to try. If he went alone, something might happen to him and, if his family survived, they would all think he abandoned them. So he would chop wood to keep her warm, and supply her food to keep her from withering away, and if any enemies should threaten their village he would battle them for several tendays straight to keep her safe.
But all of that just didn’t seem good enough.
Brinney grew restless after dark. They managed to stir Sholee to consciousness to feed her the soup, but the exhausted woman returned to sleep immediately after, the pain in her chest and her heavy eyelids too strong to fight unconsciousness. Brinney took note on how Creole fed his wife the soup, though, for she expected the potion would require the same process. She stared out the front window every chance she got once the sun went down, leaving it only when Creole asked a favor of her. On one such occasion he also asked what she was looking for at the window.
“Lishy,” she replied absently, forgetting about the fairy’s request for secrecy.
Creole mouthed the word silently, confused. He’d never heard the name before, definitely not someone in the valley. If he held any hint of hope that Brinney would be able to explain the name to him, he would have inquired further. But as before, with all her strange prophetic warnings, he could only wait and keep an eye out for other signs or revealing behavior from his daughter.
She grew more and more impatient as the minutes rolled on like hours, and when Creole went to check on Sholee—closing the door behind him—Brinney found her opportunity. She opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, scanning the night for her overdue friend. She found instead, resting on the porch railing, a tiny vial containing a greenish brown liquid with a few specks of something solid and dark green in color. She snatched it up and ran inside, not even slowing to knock on her father’s bedchamber door, but bursting right in. All thoughts of the fairy blew away with the arrival of her ray of hope.
“Look,” she cried excitedly. “I found it on the porch! It’s for mother!”
He examined the vial with disgust, for its contents appeared to be from one of their sewer holes. He even removed the stopper to smell it, but the aroma was very weak at best.
“You sure it’s safe, Brin?” he asked curiously. “Will it cure her?”
Brinney nodded to the first question, and shrugged for the second.
Creole was torn. Normally he would never consume something if he didn’t know what it was or who or where it came from—especially if his wife and childrens’ lives depended on the after affects—but he sensed this was different. He had faith, after all he’d seen concerning Brinney, that his daughter would know if the potion was harmful or helpful.
“This won’t hurt her, though, right Brin?” he asked to be sure.
Brinney shook her head emphatically.
Creole realized how foolish he’d have sounded to a stranger, asking his eight year old daughter about the effects of a mysterious concoction left on the porch. But no one knew Brinney like he did.
Creole mumbled a prayer to any gods who would listen as he woke his wife and fed her the potion. He had a mug of water to rinse it down, assuming correctly—by the way Sholee coughed and gagged—that the dirty-looking liquid would hold a foul taste.
“Lishy said it will slow the ‘fection,” Brinney whispered when her mother lay back down and seemed a bit more comfortable.
Creole nodded absently, still unsure about what he did or what Brinney meant. He gave up on trying to decipher his daughter’s enigmas, no longer caring about who was lending a hand. He just wanted his life back.
And he couldn’t have that without Sholee.
*
He was right, she decided, feeling horribly guilty. She’d wondered often about her role in the misfortunes of those around her, but never considered the seriousness of her carefree nature until someone else pointed it out—negatively. Thinking back, she realized a change came over her when her sister died. For the longest time Neeka believed it was her fault, that because of a decision Neeka made, her sister took a road leading to her death. But she discovered later that her sister would have traveled that road regardless of Neeka’s decision. So she was allowed to grieve, guilt free, and was unaware that her guilty paranoia would transform to apathy for every tragedy thereafter. She must’ve blocked it all out. Whether accepting the guilt would remind her of her sister or simply because she didn’t want to care, she couldn’t be sure. But now it all caught up to her. Not the recent incident with the soldiers, of course. She felt no remorse for defending the innocence of a friend. Some would argue that she didn’t have to kill the man, that she should have let him face the justice of the king, but she would repeat her actions if the situation reoccurred. She held no tolerance for men who thought they could take what they want from who they want whenever they wanted. No, this time the guilt spawned from her apathy.
Still, she couldn’t help but think about the future. Would the king seek revenge on the entire village for her actions? The general promised he would not, but in the eyes of the king the general was a woman. Men wouldn’t forsake their laws for a woman. And what of her own future? She enjoyed her wild, carefree spirit, the freedom of doing anything, anywhere, while still clinging to virtues like respect for life, love and honesty. But now she couldn’t be herself without endangering others, and she would rather die than try to change who she is. So she would be alone.
For the safety of the valley, Neeka began the search for a new home, away from people, when the moon reached its peak.
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A very enjoyable chapter. You do a great job building the tension as Kaia-mei gets closer to meeting her biological father. I look forward to the meeting.
Probably the best thing about this story are all the subplots and interest twists mixed in. I can’t wait to see how they all come together. No dull moments here!
“She was ready to live ” This almost seems a little too easy or too quickly, but I’m decided. Something to think about…
“the only father she ever knew.” I think it should be ‘she still considered Gurandi her father.’ Because is still the Gurandi is he only father she’s ever known and the reader already knows that.
“a tall ladder to climb to reach Gurandi’s side.” I’m not sure about this. The word ‘side’ seems off to me.
“Secile beamed.” Beamed is usually a description of how someone looks, not talks. You seem to go great lengths to avoid using the word ‘said.’ It’s o.k. to use the word ‘said’ one in a while. From what I’ve read the industry used like ‘said’ then they hated it, now they like it in moderation.”
“The mage had just finished packing the horses and now stooped over the embers” You’re mixing tenses here, maybe in an attempt to avoid the word ‘was’ a.k.a. passive language. I think it should and was now stooping over the embers. Most word processing programs have readability statistics built in. Any score 5% and better for passive language is considered good.
“Kaia-mei skipped” I’m having a hard time picturing Kaia skipping, it sounds childish to me. Is there another way you can show her carefree mood? Just a thought…
“for how little she’d consumed on the journey.” Because she consumed so little on the journey.
“Secile noted her” pov shift
“exclaimed Caize happily,” try to show this and nix the adverb. As a rule it flows better to say Caize exclaimed.
“Where’d you go?” Kaia-mei replied, remembering well … gone until now.” Here, if you wanted to get rid of the dialogue tag, you could just say, ‘Kaia-mei remembered well Secile’s warnings… until now. “Where’d you go?”
“he assured his friend.” Since we know she’s talking to Caize and by the words we know he is answering her the dialogue tag is not needed.
“Some say the woldwoods” Whose pov are we in? Secile’s probably the only one who know this. Or is it common knowledge?
Caize’s near miss with the poison barbs might be something that you could write out, added suspense. Just a thought…
“Caize felt foolish,” pov shift, we were just in Secile’s head.
“Kaia-mei felt sorry for him,” pov shift. Perhaps change it to, ‘she gave him a commiserating look.’ Or something like that.
“A presence seeming unbefitting” seemed unbefitting
“Caize’s luster for the forest-walk” pov shift
“remembering one of their first conversations” this is kind of awkward especially since you just used the phrase ‘remember Secile’s admission’ not long ago,
“She tried to pass it off” pov shift.
“Kaia-mei really missed” pov shift.
“Secile stared at the girl a moment, both pleased and curious” pov shift.
“could nearly conquer” I would take out ‘nearly.’ If one could destroy the world I think they could not just nearly conquer it, conquer it.
“She couldn’t think of where” pov shift.
“Secile reiterated sarcastically.” What is she repeating? To reiterate is to repeat.
“not as knowledgeable with terminology as his friend.” I’m not sure you need this. From way you’ve painted the characters, it’s clear that Kaia-mei is more studious. Plus, just that fact that he asked the question makes it clear that he’s not as knowledgeable.
“She hid her jealousy well.” Pov shift.
“Kaia-mei felt” pov shift.
“The implication struck” pov shift.
The scene with the creature finding the grass was really well done.
“The last half of the journey” It’s best to make it clear that whose pov we are in asap.
“asked Caize curiously.” Curiously is not needed. You use a lot of adverbs with dialogue tags. It get tedious after a while reading them all.
“She imagined Daxe” pov shift.
“Kaia-mei and Caize were taken by surprise” pov shift. If you described them being taken by surprise instead of telling us it wouldn’t be;)
“She was curious to” pov shift. It’d be best to keep with the pov of either Secile, Caize, or Kaia-mei.
“Caize listened to Daxe” pov shift.
“Simyna informed you” There’s pov shift somewhere here. It was in Caize’s and now he’s asleep.
“slightly relieved. He wasn’t” pov shift
“She hesitated, sorting” pov shift.
“to coyly” this is unnecessary. You’ve already done a great job showing her shyness.
“for hovering about Rahmina’s” pov shift.
Brinney finding the necklace was a great idea. We are left wondering if it’s guiding her to good or to bad. It had a negative effect on the soldier, but we know that Brinney is special and may be immune.
“The fairy watched curiously” pov shift.
“Vaulinquelitaya called to him,” This reminds me of the crystal shard.
“She took Burkae straight” she had taken. Since this happened weeks ago the past perfect tense is required.
“They wished she’d just” This is not only pov of view shift, but describes more than one pov.
“seeming about” Most of this has been from Kahreesa’s pov. Then ‘seeming’ is not necessary.
“She screamed as jagged, bloodied teeth dug” couldn’t have happened to a nicer lady and an interest twist.
“she’d accompanied them” him
Brinney is becoming one of my favorite characters.
“The fairy spoke in her own tongue,” pov shift.
“Creole felt,” pov shift.
“Creole shrugged and helped her” Creole shrugged and she helped
“She grew more and more impatient” pov shift
“Creole was torn.” Pov shift.
“He was right, she decided, feeling” Use Neeka’s name here. When you start with pronouns in the next scene the reader expects the same characters to be present.
- add/view comments (2)
Some of these may repeats of suggestions that I made earlier:
Pg.1
I’m unsure accurate, ”...the events of her dream were accurate…” is the proper word. This may be stating that she is recalling her dream accurately. Perhaps : ...were reality.
I am not a fan of starting sentences with, ‘but’.
Avoid repeating words like ‘still’ in close proximity.
Pg.2 line 6: ”..before you can practice”.
I would simplify/clarify ”....first”.
Watch your use of double adjectives and adverbs (almost giddy).
repeating (fear)
Be sure that you want to write dialogue in dialect. (We ready).
Pg.3
”....perhaps dissapear into nothingness”.
comma after ‘smells’?
I don’t like ‘And’ to start a sentence. Try this out: Drop the ‘And’ then read the sentence aloud. It will probably stand on its own.
Drop ”...to recover”
Pg.4
I may have missed it but, had Secile warne Caize to ‘be careful’ earlier?
Safety should be their ‘first’ priority while in the woods.
Pg.5
“I can (continue to) prepare you for Nimbdell”.
If the rules are ‘ingrained’ in Secile’s head, she would already know of any loopholes. KEEP IN MIND: If there is a loophole that was never closed, this may show the mage in an light of incopetence.
Also: Is she trying to convince herself to begin the training early? If so, it is not made clear.
Pg.6/7
‘Inside’ in close proximity to itself.
Perhaps choosing, and consistantly implementing, synonyms for ‘Magic’.
Am I the only one who HATES using ‘And’ at the start of a sentence?????
You like to use: ‘for the’, ‘for they’.....Mix a few ‘as’ in there.
‘Teach’ in close proximity to itself.
Be more dynamic at the appropriate times:
“Good question”. Is that accurate? Was it a ‘good’ question or was it, “An excellent question”?
Remember: Choose not the ‘right’ word, but the ‘perfect’ word.
Take a look at your use of alliterations (blew…....but)
Like phrases: (how was…...how to)
Last sentence: ’...blew it out’ how about ‘released it’ or ‘exhaled’?
Pg.8
Too many sentences starting with ‘She’. Actually you have overused this word on pg. 8 in general.
Okay!
That’s it for now.
Again you have a good prospect here. Stay positive as ‘rewrites’ are part of the process.
MD
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