Sci Fi & Fantasy / Shadow of Chea'Laern: Chapter 13 - Acquisition (Analysis)
Chapter 13
Acquisition
They’d wandered the wold for several fortnights in search of the item their master demanded that they retrieve for him. If they returned empty-handed, he had warned, they might as well not have returned at all. One creature wore the form of an oversized ogre, the other a troll. Both appeared as though they were bred from a giant, and the species’ of which they resembled. But neither assumption would be true. This pair was created, not bred. Their physical form was a mere shell, an illusion. They concealed no organs within—no blood, no bones. Their innards were made up of an intangible, chaotic void of energy, a source of great power. Within these illusionary shells dwelt exact replicas of the purest form of Vaulinquelitaya’s power: its seed. They reigned from a desolate continent far to the west, a land of death and decay.
Finally they tracked the sentient dagger’s radiating power to a mountain towering over a valley on the east side of the continent. They found the item tendays ago, but it was stolen from them while they slept. Now the only thing standing between them and their quarry—and finally being able to return to their scarred homeland—was a series of underground tunnel networks and a lesser version of themselves in the puny form of a mere human’s vessel. They approached from the north, so they easily entered the mountain undetected by the human settlement on the southern side. The caves were much more comfortable, unlike the suffocating aromas of foliage and life out under the open sky.
Vaulinquelitaya sensed the powerful beings approaching, as surely as they sensed its power, and desperately sought a plan that didn’t involve warning its subject of the dangerous duo. Vaulinquelitaya wanted to wait for the right moment to reveal their plans, to teach its subject the patience of a war god. The artifact originally planned to let the humans find the elusive power hidden in the caves. For taking it from them would prove an easy feat, and possibly quite fun. Now, though, they had no choice. The other two artifacts might be their only defense against the great wizard’s godlike generals. Not by any conventional means, however. Vaulinquelitaya decided the other artifacts would act as decoys to bribe the creatures away from their mission.
Vaulinquelitaya would rather lose two valuable allies than be taken back to its former wielder.
*
The instant they set Neeka’s body on Creole’s cabin floor, Brinney scurried toward it curiously. She saw the woman’s lights. They were extremely faint, even more so than her mother’s, but more curious was that she saw a thin silvery cord of light sticking a foot out from the woman’s head. “Where she go, see-see?” asked the contemplative girl.
Secile nodded to Creole. On their way back from the caves he explained to the mage some of Brinney’s strange behaviors and prophecies, and Secile told him Brinney belonged in Nimbdell. “She’s a natural,” confirmed the mage. “She knows the woman’s spirit has left her body yet remains attached to it.”
The mage knelt before Brinney and spoke softly. “Hun, we were hoping you could tell us where she is.”
Brinney stared a moment, either curious or confused, before moving next to the forsaken body. She placed her small hand on Neeka’s forehead and closed her eyes. A short moment later she screamed and fell back, unharmed but scared and crying.
“What happened, Brin?” Creole cried, rushing to her and picking her up. The girl could only whimper and shake her head in reply, wetting his shoulders with her tears.
“That doesn’t sound good,” commented Rahmina.
“Are you hurt, Brinney?” asked Secile.
She shook her head, the tears reducing to sniffs, sobs and whimpers.
“Something scared her, then. But more importantly she was not harmed.”
“She does scare easily,” added Creole. “Though I’ve never heard her scream like that.”
“I think your daughter has a rare gift, sir Duunlare,” said the mage. She was jealous, for she had to study hard and work to achieve the magnitude of her skills and abilities, while Brinney seemed to tap into the soul’s power on a whim.
“Most people have to practice for years to do the things you say she does. Not only that, but she seems to have found a unique form of magic. Lucimina, Kaia-mei’s mother, discovered a link between the planet and our souls before she passed away. I think your daughter’s is different even from that.
“You’re going to take her to Nimbdell, aren’t you,” Creole interpreted her thoughts, somewhat defensively.
“That decision can be made only by the two of you, but I do think it would help her. There is nothing more dangerous than a magic out of control.”
Creole shrugged. “She seems to control it well.”
“That she does,” conceded the mage. “But she is only a child. What when she grows and the world begins to point its corrupted finger her way?”
It took them a few hours to calm her down enough to squeeze out vague descriptions of her vision. The information they’d garnered was already known to one of them. Neeka dwelt in a large, empty cavern deep inside the mountain.
Secile’s overlapping vision of the cavern and its hovering cloud suddenly made more sense.
And then Brinney fell asleep. Everyone in the village except Creole, Rahmina and Secile shared Brinney’s good idea, for they were exhausted. The woodsman, the mage and the former general stayed awake to contemplate the possibilities of which cavern Neeka was held captive. Using Creole’s mental map, they decided there weren’t too many big empty caverns. The problem was there were great distances between them and it would take weeks to search them all.
“And then we must consider the caverns we don’t know about. I’m certain there are many more nooks and crannies we have not yet found. It is a big mountain,” admitted Creole.
“Can you locate the artifact with magic?” asked Rahmina.
Secile shook her head. “Again, I have never seen or held the artifact except in a brief dream. All I can do is seek evil, but there is so much evil in those caves our chances would be slim to none. And I should reserve my energy.”
“What about Neeka’s body? You can use it to find her, yes?” asked Creole.
“Magic is more complicated than that. We must consider not only our goal, but also the consequences and possible side effects. I am lucky the wielder of the artifact was not near her when I searched for Neeka the first time, for they might have sensed my energy and tracked it back to us, or possibly cast the same spell on me as they did on Neeka.”
There was a silence of disappointment for a few minutes, Creole and Rahmina pondering the best plan of action.
Secile’s suggestion broke the silence. “Maybe Brinney would be of help with our search in the caves.”
Rahmina gasped in disbelief that the mage would even think of putting the girl in such danger.
“Are you bats?” cried Creole. “You said yourself that thing could track us. I’m not sacrificing my daughter for Neeka, I’m sorry. Neeka’s a friend, but she wouldn’t want me to do that.”
“You would risk your own life, though? You would risk leaving your son and daughter to care for poor Sholee? Besides, I don’t think they could track Brinney. Her power is a different kind; she shouldn’t even have access to it at her age, according to the ancients. You see, we humans use our souls for the energy source needed for our magic. Very few others in all history have been able to tap into the planet’s—uh, let’s say soul for now—as a source for a much more powerful and frighteningly dangerous magic; like Kaia-mei and her mother, Lucimina. Considering your daughter doesn’t have to do any kind of meditation or preparation to access her abilities, and that she can control it, without discipline, at so young an age, her source of power is unknown to me.”
“So you want her to go to Nimbdell to be studied, is that it?”
Secile shook her head. “You have it backwards. I want her to go so she can study. What are you going to tell her when she’s old enough to realize she’s different from everyone else? How are you going to explain to her why she is the way she is? And that’s not the issue right now anyway.”
“Good point,” commented Rahmina.
Creole agreed after a few seconds of thought, feeling quite selfish for his words. “She’s not even ours…” he admitted in a sad whisper. “We found her abandoned on the wold, like that Vansea girl.”
The looks that suddenly shot his way ranged from curious, to sympathetic, to admirable. Not many people would take on the responsibility of weaning an abandoned child into adulthood by choice.
Creole drew courage, pride and hope from their looks. He squared his shoulders and said, “We will take her in the morning.”
*
The search produced nothing.
Poor Captain Gratulei spent the entire time either trying to choke back the bile at the sight of rotting corpses or grieving for the loss of his friends. Talik remained silent through it all, and even appeared bored. He’d seen worse tragedies, and by his reckoning this one wasn’t even that tragic. Many people will be better off without Roanindae towering over them, once the kingdom recovers of course.
They began in the dungeons and worked their way up. The scenery was similarly messy on every floor, in every room, until they reached the king’s chambers.
That is where the search got interesting.
“I knew it! I knew he was up to something!” Talik cried suddenly, which brought everyone in from the other room. They entered to see Talik leering over an open tome: Roanindae’s personal journal.
“You should not be reading that!” scolded the loyal captain.
“If the king were alive, your scolding would be appropriate,” replied Master Keftal, intrigued by the discovery.
“What have you found?” asked one of the mages.
Captain Gratulei had to admit, even he was curious.
“The king has been communicating with a kingdom far to the south, scores of days beyond the Festering Orc Forest. He plans,” the old traveler stopped to correct himself, “he planned—to hand his kingdom over to them!”
“Without consulting Nimbdell? That could’ve started a war!” gasped another mage in disgusted disbelief.
“I knew he was up to something!” Talik declared again. “I saw the dogs from the south more than once.”
The captain was appalled and dumbstruck.
“There is a loose parchment here,” continued the old traveler. After a quick scan, he banged his fist down on the table “It is a letter from the southern queen!”
Master Keftal snapped the scroll from his hands and quickly read it. He dropped it to the ground when finished, his jaw hanging open in horror. When the Master regained his composure, he looked to the others with the direst of expressions. “We must evacuate…everyone,” he said softly. “They are on their way here to claim the throne. Gather your soldiers, captain. This is going to be a long night!”
Nearly every time a soldier knocked on any of the doors, both civilians and farmers, they were greeted either with harsh words or not greeted at all. In one particular case, at a farmhouse in the hills to the east of the kingdom, the soldier was threatened with a pitchfork and harsh words. The volume of the soldier’s knock woke their sleeping child, and the vibration knocked potted plants off the wall. They crashed to the floor, adding to the noise of the crying baby.
The taverns were even worse to clear out; stubborn drunks clinging to their bottles as if taking them away would be calling death to come collect their corpse-lights. More than a few brawls broke out between the patrons and soldiers, but the captain anticipated their angry reactions and sent plenty of soldiers to outnumber the patrons. The tavern owners didn’t bother to complain about the destruction, because they had to leave it all behind anyway.
A tall, dark-haired man watched the hustle and bustle from his favorite spot on a pile of rocks resting atop a hill near his cabin. He’d lived there in solitude for a decade or more, no one could really remember. For he rarely ventured into the marketplace, and even more rarely spoke to anyone. Some would say he holed himself up because his wife died. Others said it was his daughter, and those who didn’t care much usually ended the pointless argument by saying it was both. And some even spoke of him as a hero, having saved a child from certain death many years before. He wasn’t a grouchy hermit, for the nearly unsightly times he spoke to people he was kind and polite, just a bit withdrawn. As it was this night; he sat and watched the shadowy figures—flickering in and out of the torch lights—in silence, except for the angry shouts wafting up the hill, followed by the sound of breaking jars or boards. Even so, he felt the silence around him. A chirping cricket nearby easily drowned out the ugly noises from below. And still, serenity encased him in a soundless barrier. He didn’t know what all the commotion was about. Nor did he care. And when he spotted a pair of soldiers heading toward his cabin, he was off like a fox in the brush. He just simply preferred to be alone.
By morning nearly every civilian and every soldier followed the mages’ lead toward Nimbdell, well protected and fully supplied; with no prediction as to when or if they would ever see Chea’Laern again. Those who remained stubbornly believed they could protect their farms against anything, and didn’t mind living near an abandoned kingdom. The mages warned them they would not be safe anyway, and told them if they found trouble to seek refuge in Nimbdell and they would be warmly welcomed.
But the road was a long and dangerous one to travel alone.
*
“Stay on your mounts, keep moving and be unafraid,” directed Amberley as she stared off to the north. “They smell fear as easily as bloody meat, so hide it behind your anger.”
At the peak of the northern rise perched several mounted worgs, peering down at the three human riders like carrion birds circling decomposing corpses. They were but one hundred paces away, so it would not take long to reach their intended meals.
Kaia-mei was afraid, but she held no anger for the beasts because she knew not what they were. She only saw silhouettes. So she used her frustrations to block out the fear; she thought of Gurandi keeping her real father a secret and of his untimely death, and her possible role in it; she thought of how close she came to finally accepting their arrival in Nimbdell, and then being turned away, back to the dreaded valley she’d run away from. Somehow, those distractions kept her unafraid.
Caize stared up at his enemies, glaring angrily as his adrenaline built to a crescendo. He had no problem cutting down the evil beasts with his sword or bow, for he knew they’d show no mercy.
Amberley gazed straight ahead, using a different kind of sight. Her physical eyes had shut down, the serene energy of meditation taking over her senses. She watched their enemies with her mind’s eye so she could use her fire energy against the furry beasts on a whim.
The mounted worgs charged.
Still staring ahead, Amberley sensed their approach rather than saw it. She knew it would not take long for the beasts to catch them, because the horses were tired and sweating and overdue for a rest.
“They’re closing!” called Caize, slowing to allow Kaia-mei a safer position between him and Amberley.
But the student knew this. She had completed the necessary process to build up the fire energy within, and she produced the ruby wand that would allow her to channel that energy.
When she opened her eyes and looked back to aim her wand, she was worried to find that there were many more of the mounted beasts than she first saw. Some of them were nearly upon Caize, which made those targets too risky. She didn’t want to hit Caize. So she loosed her fireball toward the ones charging at their flanks.
The worgs scattered, losing ground but unharmed. She loosed two more in succession, another missed but the third exploded at a worg’s feet and caught the beast on fire. Its rider was thrown to the ground in the fiery fury and was out of the chase.
Caize aimed his arrows for the worgs knowing if he took them out, the mountless riders couldn’t possibly catch them. His first arrow missed, for he was unaccustomed to aiming his bow on a moving horse, shooting targets behind him. But he adjusted quickly and his second shot was closer to the mark. Two worgs closed in fast and began snipping at the ankles of his horse. Being so close, they became much easier targets. He drew back again, held his breath and let fly.
The arrow dug into the worg’s brain, and both beast and rider tumbled to the ground. He notched the next arrow quickly and let fly. Perhaps too quickly because his aim was a little low, and the arrow dug into the worg’s flesh where the leg meets the body. He did not kill the beast, but at least it was out of the chase.
Relief dissipated when he looked back to the north, where several more beasts with goblin riders were closing fast.
Kaia-mei couldn’t do much except keep an eye out both front and back, hoping to catch something her companions might miss and warn them of the unexpected danger.
Amberley continued her fiery assault on their attackers who got too close, mainly scaring and slowing them with close calls but occasionally scoring a solid hit; whittling down their numbers gradually. She tired fast. She hadn’t used magic in battle for several weeks and forgot how exhausting it could be. She began to worry, for half a dozen more worg-riders charged in from the north—six goblins and their ferocious mounts against three children. To make things worse, a warning call of danger ahead came from frightened Kaia-mei in the middle.
Another half dozen worg riders blocked their path forward.
She veered their course to the south, putting the northern worgs directly behind them, but their enemies ahead shifted course accordingly.
“Switch!” the mage called back to Caize. The boy’s bow would be more accurate if he could aim forward instead of awkwardly sideways, and she had a plan for their pursuers.
Caize’s confidence soared as he pulled to the front, letting fly a few arrows before he was fully ahead of Kaia-mei’s middle position. All three hit their marks; two for a worg and its rider and one for another worg. Impressive considering the distance, and the fact that Caize just barely entered adulthood.
Kaia-mei cheered her friend on, proud of him for his prowess with the bow. She looked behind her, wondering if Amberley fared the same, just in time to see the young mage’s firewall rise from the ground stretching fifty paces northeast to southwest.
The mage gave out an elated hoot for her success, which sounded much weaker than she’d intended. The firewall drained much of her energy. She fought hard to keep her bearings, to steer her horse and focus on the fight ahead. From what she could tell, Caize had cleared the way forward with his bow. But what she failed to notice was that her horse started slowing, both due to exhaustion and for Amberley’s inability to give strong commands. One worg had evaded the firewall, and was already nearly upon her.
Amberley’s horse whinnied and bucked as the worg snipped at its ankles. The horse’s hooves connected with the worg’s face and sent the beast flying just as Amberley toppled from her mount. The worg was only dazed, for the hit wasn’t solid, and recovered quickly. It stalked over to its catch, sniffing the unconscious young human to savor the smell before tearing her apart. Too long had this worg fed on goblin flesh; it was eager to taste the pure blood of humans again. Perhaps too eager, for its desire to savor the smell first cost the worg its life.
Caize’s arrow dug deeply into its brain.
Amberley’s injuries, though minor, forced them to make camp sooner than she’d planned. Kaia-mei and Caize built the fire before Amberley even stirred to consciousness, for she’d hit her head pretty hard when she fell.
When Amberley awoke, she startled her new friends nearly to death.
“No fire!” she said as loud as she dared, springing up to a sitting position a little too fast. “Put out the fire!” She lay back down almost immediately, though, for the pain in her head was too great.
“If you’re cold, get the rubies from my pack. If you need light, I have other means.”
Kaia-mei and Caize looked to each other obliviously. “Rubies?” they repeated in unison.
“Red stones, translucent…” she closed her eyes in an attempt to relieve the pounding headache. She knew she could not concentrate enough to use her energy for healing. But perhaps the daughter of Master Prieza could… (M.P. and Lucimina well known at HT? Kaia born?)
“Translucent?” asked Caize as Kaia-mei rummaged through the pack.
“Means light passes through it, and you can often see through it,” answered Kaia-mei.
Amberley smiled.
“Here they are,” proclaimed Kaia-mei, holding up the stones for all to see. True to the student’s word, they filled her with warmth upon touch. “It’s not cold yet, but might as well have them out in case a cold wind comes.”
Amberley inwardly giggled, impressed with Kaia-mei’s resourceful intelligence. She smiled even greater.
“Can one find these anywhere? Just lying on the ground?” Kaia-mei asked, handing Caize a stone then kneeling next to Amberley. There were only two stones, so Kaia-mei gave their new friend the other.
Now Amberley did laugh aloud, which cost her more pain. “Yes, well anywhere in the region. But they are ordinary stones until the masters infuse them with the warmth. Some people consider them valuable because other people find the stones beautiful enough to pay for.”
“We’re glad you are awake. We felt as though we should be doing something, helping in some way.”
Amberley fell silent, glancing curiously at Kaia-mei. “And you just may.”
The curious glance bounced back as though it hit a mirror. Kaia-mei knew something more lay hidden in Amberley’s tone than the simple phrase Caize heard.
“We would be happy to help,” the boy smiled.
Kaia-mei hesitated to speak.
“If you don’t mind, Caize, I’d like you to keep vigilant watch while I try to teach Kaia-mei something. I’d feel safest if you were on guard.”
Caize nodded courageously, obviously flattered despite the disappointment of being left out.
Kaia-mei’s eyes burst with excitement. Her conscience nagged at her to ask specific questions about the nature of the pending lesson. She knew it involved magic—what else would a student of Nimbdell teach to a woodsgirl—but she had to be certain.
Caize walked out of the ring of firelight as Kaia-mei sorted through the questions.
Amberley spoke first. “Master Secile says you wish to learn our ways.”
Kaia-mei nodded, her suspicions confirmed. And her conscience returned with a different protest. “And Secile told me I couldn’t be taught until we reached Nimbdell.”
Amberley giggled and shook her head. “They’re very precise with the rules. I’ll wager Secile said she couldn’t teach you until you reached Nimbdell. Masters are not allowed to give future students a head start. You see, if a student teaches another would-be student, it’s more like playing as teams, whereas if a Master teaches a would-be student, the other students could get jealous of the head start and the Master could be accused of playing favorites. Plus, teaching you would help with my studies. And if I teach you wrong, the mistakes will be fixed when you go to study at Nimbdell.”
Kaia-mei half nodded, remaining silent.
“You will see,” smiled Amberley through the pain. “But for now, I will teach you our meditation techniques.”
“My fa…” Kaia-mei choked on the word and looked away. It pained her to even mention his name, but she could think of no other word to explain who he was to her. “Gurandi…taught me that meditation for you is the same as entering the silence for us. Is that true?”
“Alas, truth,” grinned Amberley. “An ever-elusive bug, it is. Different techniques can reach the same results, the same goal, and yet the sights seen along the way might change what comes after those results. So we must wonder, is there a truer path if two paths lead to the same results?”
Kaia-mei’s blank stare was very telling.
Amberley giggled softly. She thought for a moment, considering the best way to explain her feelings. “When you’re walking through the woods and you see a bird, you probably only see it as a bird, right?”
Kaia-mei nodded, not understanding.
“If I look at the same bird, I don’t see it as just another bird. It is that bird, in that place at that time. The bird has a family, or will one day, and though the bird, like the rest of its species, behaves in certain ways and has the same way of life as all the rest, it is not ‘all the rest.’ It is that bird.”
Kaia-mei felt silly for her answer to the original question, for she realized that she viewed things the same way as Amberley explained, she just wasn’t looking at the question from the same perspective until after the explanation. Which, she also realized, is exactly the point the student was trying to make.
“So both our techniques are forms of meditation, but each might hide different secrets?”
“Yes. And where and when both play an important role as well. If you can see that even things what look the same can be very different, perhaps even opposites, then you will be able to teach yourself things that most people spend half their lives training for.”
Kaia-mei smiled, making a mental note to explore this new insight.
“Have you ever tried meditating with your eyes open?”
Kaia-mei shook her head.
“Since magic is often necessary in tense, dire situations, most circumstances call for complete vigilance.”
A snake of fire screaming out to bite a worg’s hide flashed through Kaia-mei’s mind.
“In situations as this, however,” continued Amberley, “it is acceptable to close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable.”
Nervousness crept in. Kaia-mei doubted the wisdom in this practice. Something inside said it wasn’t the right time. “What if I do something wrong…out of my control? Aren’t you worried I might make the pain worse?” She was excited to practice with the inanimate rod—but on a live human being?
“I doubt that is possible.”
“But you’re willing to risk that unbelievable chance?” pressed Kaia-mei nervously.
Amberley shook her head and smiled. “I’m confident enough in my educated guess, yes. And in any case, a mistake is only a mistake if it is excused or ignored. If you learn from the experience, it is not a mistake.”
Kaia-mei sighed. “Very well.” She closed her eyes. Within a minute, she’d entered the silence.
Amberley’s voice sounded muffled and distant. “My pain is a fish swimming the opposite direction of its school. You must find a way to force the fish to turn around, to flush it back to the other fish. Can you do that?”
Kaia-mei didn’t even feel herself nod, nor was she consciously aware she had placed her hands on Amberley’s forehead. Similar to her experience with the rod, colors—for the lack of a better description—swirled within her. Though this time she did not see them. Nor did she feel any different. She actually heard the vibrations. A cacophony of them: the symphony of her silence.
Amberley spoke, but her words were too distant, lost on the colorful vibrations. And the symphony was getting louder, nearly unbearable. Kaia-mei couldn’t concentrate. She intuitively knew each “color” held a unique vibration, sound, and purpose. But she could not distinguish one from the other with the increasing volume. Strange, though, the sound was not in her ears. The discomfort from the volume was more akin to a thought, a nightmare, than the actual sense of hearing. She accrued a headache. Worse, she couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t stop the violently rattling vibrations. She began to hear voices, many voices in tones of many different emotions. They sounded familiar. They sounded like humans. She thought she heard her father, Gurandi’s comforting voice. But there were too many to conceivably sort through, too many to even pick out a single intelligible word.
She began to feel cold, detached from the world she knew. And she was unaware that Amberley had been calling out to her, even shaking her, trying to snap her back to consciousness.
“Kaia-mei!”
Her eyes popped open. The symphony stopped. And she suddenly felt the sting on her cheek from where Amberley smacked her back to consciousness. The sting was miniscule, though, in light of her reeling headache.
“What happened?” she groaned, holding her head. Only then did she notice her body had grown slightly numb; tingly, like the awakening of a sleeping limb.
“I don’t know,” Amberley said sympathetically. She was seriously confused, and concerned. “You must’ve tapped into something I wasn’t aware you could. It was…scary.”
“I’ve done that recently…” she grumbled, not pleased in the least. “I don’t remember anything,” Kaia-mei admitted after a slight pause of silence.
But then one memory came back to her. “I heard it! I heard the symphony. Louder and louder it grew, and as colorful as the sky-stripes!”
Amberley stared at Kaia-mei in silence, awkwardly, intensely, contemplating the wisdom in asking her new friend the personal question inspired by Kaia-mei’s description of her experience combined with what Amberley saw.
Kaia-mei shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you…?” Amberley hesitated. “Nah, it’s not my business and not my place to ask.”
Normally Kaia-mei would’ve prompted her to ask anyway, but in light of recent events and her newly acquired headache, she preferred to let it be.
And though Amberley was so curious she hoped Kaia-mei would invite her question, she respected personal space and observed Kaia-mei’s discomfort.
“Just promise me something,” she said instead. “Promise me you won’t try that again unless under supervision of a Master at Nimbdell. At least not by entering your silence. I believe that is the difference, and the reason you got hurt. I will teach you our way of meditation, if you like, because that is the only way I can accurately guide you.”
Kaia-mei nodded. She didn’t want to experience that again quite yet anyway. “I promise.” But at the same time, she wanted to learn the technique Amberley was trying to teach her. “Can you teach me now?”
Amberley blinked a few times, surprised. “Are you sure? You look drained.”
Kaia-mei nodded. “The headache is on ebb.”
“Very well, then,” agreed the student of Nimbdell. “Very well.”
*
She walked with a balanced gait; her face shrouded within the concealing darkness of the cowl of her lavishly decorated robes. A dozen warriors surrounded her, ready to fight to the death for this woman, their leader. Even without them, she would be unafraid. Beneath her robes dwelt many dangerous items, her toned arms and legs numbered among them. Two locks of curly blond hair spiraled out from beneath her hood, one bouncing about each shoulder with every measured step. Her wicked pale-blue eyes pierced through the shadows of the cowl, seemingly two hovering orbs of dangerous seduction. And they rest on the structure before her, coveting what she’d desired for decades.
“At last,” she hissed, “my kingdom.”
“Pardon, my Lady Reakel. But why is the kingdom thus far emptied, abandoned. No commoners, merchants, guards….no one. Might be there is danger inside those walls.” Normally a man would not dare speak out of turn with this woman, but this man was Lady Reakel’s most trusted loyal subject. He’d proven his worth many times over, and she offered him a position beside her long ago. Though he accepted her nightly requests for his company, he graciously denied the position of power. He preferred to remain her friend, her servant, and not cloud their relationship with the possibility of competition and emotional commitment.
Reakel gazed lovingly into her companion’s black eyes, her hand brushing aside a lock of his raven-black hair and continuing along his darkened skin to pinch the earring in his left ear. “You have forgotten I fear nothing? We will learn the truth soon enough.” she cooed.
He chuckled and shook his head. “Of course not,” he smiled. “I meant your sister. What if she did this? What if she is expecting you, and has set a trap? I do not wish to see family members kill each other.”
“That is because you still have a heart, my dear Bahlael.”
The tall, muscular man looked away and would’ve blushed if he could. A strange sight to any whom he would call a stranger.
“Fear not. She is not here; else we’d have encountered her by now. Whatever happened here must have chased her away as well.”
“I am glad you are stronger than her. If anything lies in wait for us in there, it will wish it had left with the rest of them.”
Reakel cackled gleefully and then continued their march into the castle. She truly wished to see some action, but was not saddened that they did not. The castle’s hollowed state made her just as happy.
For that meant the kingdom was ripe for the taking.
Not long after Lady Reakel toured her new home, amazed at all the things Roanindae had left behind, she organized her defenses in her new Kingdom. And then she entertained her first guest. The guards roughly ushered the man into her throne room and shoved him before his new Queen. When he didn’t immediately kneel, they helped him grovel by kicking at the backs of his knees.
“Enough!” commanded the Queen of Chea’Laern. “That is not how we treat our guests. You may rise.”
The man, a farmer who chose stay with his land outside the kingdom rather than travel north with the others, rose to his feet and tried to keep the scowl off his face. Only part of his sour expression was for the Queen and the way he’d been treated. The other part was for himself, for foolishly disregarding the warning of the Mages from Nimbdell, for keeping his family here in harm’s way when he could’ve led them to safety with the others.
“Might you have a name, good sir?” Reakel smiled warmly.
“It might be Randy,” replied the farmer sternly.
One of the guards moved to backhand him, but the Queen held him in check with an outstretched hand. Her scowl, far more menacing than Randy’s, was a strange contrast to her merciful actions.
“We can be friends here, and cooperate with each other in a civil manner,” offered the Queen in a calm tone, “or we can be rude to each other as enemies. The choice is yours.”
Randy sighed and dipped a shallow bow. He spent great efforts in forcing the scowl from his face. “I am Randy.”
“That’s better,” smiled Reakel. “Now, you are probably wondering why I’ve summoned you?”
Randy nodded. In his mind he revised her question and changed the word “summoned” to “captured.”
“The answer is simple. You are the first human we have found since our arrival. If there are others, we will find them soon enough. But for now, for answers to my questions, you shall suffice.”
Randy nodded obediently, feeling quite like a dog. “If there are others, please do not harm them,” he begged.
Lady Reakel inwardly frowned. She had hoped the farmer would divulge clues, unwittingly or wittingly, as to the whereabouts of any other remaining Chea’lites, if any remained. But he was either adept at hiding the truth, or honestly didn’t know if any others remained. “Have we harmed you, Lord Randy?”
Randy hesitated, caught off guard by the title added to his name. He’d never been called a Lord before, and certainly didn’t feel deserving of the title. But it rang sweetly in his ears, like being transformed from a shepherd to a bard. In his contemplations, he nearly forgot to answer the question.
The farmer’s feet shifted on the dusty stone floor, unsure of how to answer. If he answered truthfully, for the guards were indeed quite rough with him, would he invoke the wrath of the Queen? He decided a pragmatic course: neutrality.
“I was not injured, no,” he answered tentatively. “But my escort here was not exactly comfortable either.”
Lady Reakel didn’t miss the farmer’s slight delight at the mantle of a powerful title to his name, but she stored the observation away for another day. She nodded understandingly. “They will arrive more comfortably, I assure you.” She narrowed her eyes at her guards as she spoke, both warning them that she was serious and to give the farmer a measure of comfort and sense of importance. She needed him to feel worthwhile if she expected him to be worthwhile.
“Now,” she continued, eager to move on with the business, “do you think we’ll find any others? Hiding, perhaps?”
Randy shrugged. “If any others chose to stay, I can only guess. Don is as intimate with his farm as I am with mine. Perhaps he stayed. Maybe a few others, but I’m not certain.”
Lady Reakel raised an eyebrow curiously. She sensed the slight distress, the agitation, perhaps even anger, in Randy’s voice. The connotations formed two possibilities in her analytical mind: either Randy was angry with the others for leaving, or angry with himself for staying and was worried for his life. She guessed that if Randy had ample time to think about his decision, he’d have left with the rest of them. They were in a hurry, she surmised. Which meant Roanindae likely betrayed her, or someone betrayed him to save the Kingdom from her. She didn’t want to reveal Roanindae as her co-conspirator in case he was captured and held prisoner somewhere, so she considered her next question carefully.
“Where is your King? Did he gather the Kingdom and flee?” The question sounded ridiculous as she spoke it, for she knew Roanindae would flee from nothing, but she had to play ignorant here; the best way to get detailed information without revealing intentions.
Randy shrugged again. “I’m afraid you are wasting your time with me. I’ve not had any reason to be inside the Kingdom’s walls since my now five-year-old son was born. I don’t speak with anyone except my neighbors, and rarely even them considering they all are a mile or two away. All I know is a few days ago a soldier knocked on my door and said the mage’s are taking everyone to Nimbdell, and that I would be wise to go with them.” Again he wished he’d heeded the call, and was glad he remembered to keep that thought private. Then he thought perhaps he erred in mentioning Nimbdell, but relaxed upon the realization that no one would dare attack the mysterious school of magic if they value their life.
Lady Reakel nodded, feigning a disappointed expression. Her true reaction was one of delight, for Randy’s words told her more than he knew. If Roanindae had died, the soldier would’ve passed information to Randy when they asked him to join the procession. And since she knew the old tyrant would not willingly go north, doubted that he could even survive such a journey, only one possibility remained.
Roanindae had become a prisoner.
“Worry not, Lord Randy. Whatever happened to them is of no concern, for I am the ruler here now. I offer you a place in my castle, a position of respect and power. The rest of my people will be here in a tenday, but I offer you first choice—after my personal escorts of course—in a dwelling within the Kingdom’s walls. You and your family may set up a shop, or choose one of the larger and more comfortable dwellings near the castle. You will be my advisor, my connection to the commoners and the merchants. You will be my eyes in the streets, and live a life of comfort and ease.”
Randy couldn’t believe his ears. The offer was very tempting, only a fool would pass up such an opportunity. But he needed only think of his family; of the house his great great grandfather built with his own hands; and the farm he’d tended since he was a boy, and his father and his father’s father tended before him. The farm was a family heirloom, and he would not give it up for a life of luxury. Yet, again, he had to be careful with his choice of words.
“The offer is more than a man could ask for, m’lady. With all due respect, I must decline. My ancestors built that house and the farm, and I intend to pass it on to my son. We can’t keep the family tradition living in the city.” He cringed in waiting for the inevitable explosive response.
But it never came.
“I understand. A noble decision you’ve made.”
Randy sighed and smiled with relief. He bowed low this time. “Thank you, m’lady.”
“Just two favors I must ask of you, sir Randy.”
The farmer’s smile disappeared, for her tone of voice when she spoke the word “sir” was much different, more ominous, than when she’d first called him “Lord” Randy. He gulped, and nodded his head. “Yes, m’lady?”
“We may call on you for more answers, or perhaps more favors, in the future, so do stick around. You don’t want my friends to have to hunt for you. We will respect your privacy, do not doubt, but it would be easier on us all if you are home when we need your services.”
“Yes, m’lady. Fear not, I’m always home when I’m not out hunting.”
“And I am now your Queen, sir Randy. Please address me appropriately. You don’t want to be disrespectful or rude, do you?”
“No, my…Queen.”
“You may go now. Thank you for your cooperation, and we’ll be seeing you soon.”
Randy bowed low and didn’t even wait for the guards to escort him from the room. He rode fast, back to his farm, half expecting it to lay in ruins. A great elation washed over him when it was fully intact and his family safe inside. He hugged his wife tight and didn’t let go for many minutes, then held his son in his arms for many more.
His remorse for not joining the caravans to Nimbdell was now ten times stronger.
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I think this shows a lot of promise. I believe we a few changes this could be a very powerful story.
“My family is fucked up.” You start and end the story with this line, yet I don’t see a lot of evidence to support it. The brother was in trouble with the law and it sounds like most of the family turned their back on him even in death. The fact that he was on the run doesn’t justify their abandonment of him necessarily, but it is a pretty typical reaction. There isn’t really enough details. Also we don’t know much about main character. We don’t even know even know the sex until page 4 and that’s only a guess because she carries a purse and most men don’t. All we know about her is the she thinks her family is fucked up and she lovers her brother. Give us more insight into this person. Give us some more details on what went wrong with her brother. What happened to their parents? I think all these things can really enhance the story.
The other thing that is miss here is I’m not sure what the main character is actually feeling, yes she loved her brother and felt he deserved a proper burial (or in this case scattering the ashes). But did she resent the trouble he was in? How about the fact that he basically killed himself by overdosing? How long was he on the run? Why was he on the run? Does the main character feel a sense of obligation to take care of her brother’s remains or was it only because she cared. What place is she in the family? Is she the oldest? How about the brother? All of these things will make an impact on the reader.
“detective called me,” had called
“or was it real?” Awkward. ‘if it was real.’
“my sister said and hung up the phone.” I thought she was on the phone not her sister. If some time elapsed you need to indicate that.
“nieces and nephews” nephews. Also are their no parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles to ask? How old are these people? It doesn’t sound like any of them have families of their own.
“I slowed … the cars drinking beers.” This Sentence is 70 words long and difficult to read. Consider splitting it into more than one sentence.
“ I parked- and took the vodka out of the paper bag and took a long swig and another.” Awkward. Consider, ‘I parked, pulled the vodka out of the paper bag, and took a long swig and then another.’
“I waited a minute. I started crying, I lit cigarette and” The way this is phrased it sounds like she had to wait a minute to cry. Also put a period after ‘crying.’ ‘I lit a cigarette’ a new sentence.
“I cut open the cardboard box and put the plastic bag with the pale grey ashes in my purse with the knife, and then stood outside the car put on my jacket, and drank some more.” awkward sentence. Consider, ‘I cut open the cardboard box, put the knife and the plastic bag with the pale grey ashes in my purse. Then I put on my jacket, stood outside my car and then drank some more.
“just as a wave said good-bye.” This isn’t very clear.
“He fell in a pile onto the wet sand.” Who fell into a pile of wet sand? You mean her brother’s ashes? I thought she was in the water. If the tide is coming in and out you need to say that to be clear.
“please don’t let it be low” tide,” Why didn’t she just walk further into the water?
“The woman smiled at her lover.” This doesn’t make any sense.
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