Exiled

by Blake Arthur Peel

  When I finish, she looks both astounded and worried.

  “Light,” she says at last. “That’s not ideal.”

  I nod gravely. “They’re not far from here, maybe a few hour’s walk.”

  “I think you’re right,” she says after a brief pause. “They must know something that we don’t. Light, this couldn’t have happened at a worse time.”

  We continue talking, going over the implications of my discovery, when I catch some movement out of the corner of my eye. The sound of feet crunching on dirt shakes us from our grim conversation, forcing us to look up to see who is coming, and we both see a sight that neither one of us is expecting in the least.

  A group of a dozen or so youths are converging on our position between the tents, their expressions nervous as they approach. They range from about ages twelve to seventeen, and there is a mixture of boys and girls with them, though the bulk is mostly male.

  The youths gather around us, some looking sheepish, but most looking determined as they surround Zara and me. Their leader, it seems, is the long-haired boy named Yari. He stands at the forefront of the group with his arms crossed in front of him.

  Zara looks over the group. Quirking an eyebrow, she asks, “Nima xohlaysiz?”

  “Bizni o'rgatishni xohlaymiz,” Yari replies, his fellows bobbing their heads in approval.

  She frowns, looking confused. “Nimani o'rgatmoqdasiz?”

  He looks her dead in the eye. “Qanday kurashish kerak.”

  This makes her look troubled, her frown deepening. “What do they want?” I ask in a low voice.

  She turns to look at me, her eyes tightening in worry. “He says they want us to teach them... how to fight.”

  “They want to learn how to fight?” I can’t help but feel surprised. Ever since coming to this place, the people have seemed beaten down, unwilling or unable to defend themselves. Not so with these youths, apparently. Looking closer at their appearance, I can see that they appear eager, almost like they are looking to make some trouble. There is a fire there, a fire that can be stoked into becoming a blaze.

  “I’m not sure what to say to them,” Zara says, clearly conflicted. “Their elders will no doubt be furious if they were to hear about this.”

  After a moment, I smile, looking at Yari and giving him a small nod. Then, I approach him, pulling out my dagger and handing it to him, hilt first.

  “Owyn!” Zara hisses. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing how they will react,” I reply without looking back.

  Many of the youths cringe as I proffer the dagger, scuttling back as if I am in the process of attacking them. However, Yari stands his ground. Bravely, if not a little hesitantly, he reaches forward and accepts the weapon, grasping it firmly in his sun-darkened hands. All his friends look at him with a sense of awe.

  They only want to fight to defend themselves, I think, watching as Yari examines the quill blade with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. To the Hells what their elders think.

  “Tell them that we will teach them,” I say after a moment.

  Zara starts. “Are you certain? I can see this going badly very fast.”

  “I’m sure,” I reply calmly. “The world is ending, Zara. They just want to know how to defend themselves. This is the right thing to do.”

  She considers this, then nods, though she doesn’t look too happy about it. Then, she proceeds to tell them, which prompts excited whispering to break out among them.

  “Alright,” I say after a moment, still looking at Yari. “Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Zara

  “Are you sure we should be doing this?” I ask, hurrying to keep up with Owyn’s fast pace. Around us, the hills rise up like dusty sentinels of rocks and thorns.

  He gives me an odd look, like he is confused as to why I am questioning our actions. “Yes,” he replies, still following the youths as they lead us deeper into the hills. “You know as well as I do that we need all the help we can get. Besides, if we get into another fight with another one of those big demons, won’t you want some more fighters on your side?”

  I hesitate, then finally nod. “I suppose,” I reply sullenly. “Though, I don’t have to like it. Teaching these people to fight will only increase the likelihood of them getting killed.”

  “They’re going to get killed anyway,” he mutters, looking forward. “At least this way they’ll have a chance.”

  We fall into an uneasy silence, our feet scraping on stone as we make our way through the uneven terrain of the hills. The youths, upon us agreeing to help them, promptly began leading us out of camp and toward a location they claim to be safe. Because most of their parents are laboring in the fields or breaking rocks, there wasn’t anyone to question why we were leaving the encampment.

  The shade provided by the hills is welcome, though I can’t help but feel a little uncertain of how this will all play out. I should be trying to learn from the women in the camp, I think to myself, struggling to keep pace with the others. Not gallivanting through the hills where we can be attacked by a roaming demon!

  Yari seems to be the leader of this group, many of them looking to him for guidance. He blazes the way through the ravines, leading us on a winding path that is difficult for me to remember.

  Eventually, though, we come to a stop in a cleft between two hills. There, burrowed into the rock face of a hillside, is a cavernous hole covered over by a barricade of brambles lashed together by ropes.

  Yari quickly pulls away the barricade and gestures for us to follow him inside. It appears to be an abandoned mine, discarded tools and old piles of dirt laying strewn about the outside.

  Following Owyn, I steel myself and make my way inside, feeling a rush of cool air as we creep into the heart of the hill itself. The change in temperature feels wonderful, but the darkness that awaits us feels menacing, like it is some beast that is going to swallow us whole. Yari picks up a coarse rope that lies on the floor of the tunnel, using it as sort of a guide as we go deeper into the mine.

  I hold the rope in one hand and the hem of Owyn’s cloak in my other, gingerly stepping forward through the blackness and trying not to trip or step into a bottomless pit.

  We continue this way for a while, shuffling through total darkness with only the rope and the rough wall for guidance. Down we go through twisting corridors, and the longer we are in the confines of the mine, the more my anxiety seems to increase.

  Suddenly, I can see a light ahead, an illumination, though dim, that looks profoundly brilliant to my dark-adjusted eyes. The closer we get the brighter it becomes, until we find ourselves standing in a vast chamber that seems to stretch on forever. The light comes through a shaft in the ceiling of the enormous cave, leading to the open sky which provides a golden column of sunlight. This is not what catches my attention however – it is instead the gargantuan crystal that dominates the larger portion of the chamber. Its azure surface catches the light, sending glittering, prismatic sparkles dancing around the cavern, and its multi-faceted surface juts up from the stone, rising more than fifty feet into the air and nearly reaching the roof.

  My mouth drops open and I become speechless. After all this time, it was just a short walk away from the encampment.

  A source crystal, I think, completely and utterly awed. By the Light, it’s even bigger than the Heart of Light!

  The youths continue forward undeterred, as if the sight of the great crystal is not even remotely noteworthy. Owyn, on the other hand, lets out a low whistle.

  “Eleven Hells,” he says, voice echoing off the stone. “That’s one big piece of rock.”

  “It’s a source crystal,” I reply, still marveling at the thing. Light... I can feel it radiating with magic. There must be more latent power here than in the Pillar of Radiance itself!

  “I sort of figured that,” he says. Then, he chuckles, glancing at me and jabbing a thumb at the crystal. “You think there’s enough there for you to make a new tali
sman?”

  I give him a flat look. “Owyn... this changes everything! Everyone believes that the Heart of Light is the biggest source crystal ever discovered. This,” I gesture with both my hands, “can be used to help us. Maybe we could even create a new Arc of Radiance!” Dozens of new possibilities begin to blossom in my mind.

  He considers this for a moment, then bobs his head, grinning. “That’s great! Now all we have to do is figure out a way to get back into the kingdom and make contact with the Conclave before the Prince of Darkness can destroy us all. No pressure.”

  I choose to ignore him, walking further into the cavern to stand in front of the crystal’s mammoth, glasslike surface.

  Like a tree growing out of the ground, the crystal shoots upward, its base circular like a trunk and its top coming to something of a point. It is not perfectly round, of course. It has the uneven, uncut shape of a stone, and there are no twigs or branches growing out of it. Still, the resemblance gives it the appearance of a living organism. Many scholars and mages have studied source crystals and have almost all concluded that before it is harvested, it literally grows from somewhere deep below the earth like a plant, though the process is slow. Judging by the size of this one, it must be truly ancient.

  Yari comes up beside me and watches me curiously.

  I glance at him before turning my attention back on the source crystal. "Why was this mine abandoned?" I ask, using his language in my broken way.

  He explains simply that the demons hate this crystal, and that long ago they forbad anyone from ever entering this mine again. Any slave seen touching the crystal or holding a broken piece of it was killed on sight. When the tribe had learned of the demon's loathing, the elders ordered this place sealed off.

  The R'Laar must not have wanted any mages to spring up in the population, I realize with chagrin. Even after the Arc went up, a thousand years is a long time. These people would have eventually relearned to use radiant magic in some form or another.

  I thank Yari, then take a step closer to further examine the source crystal. Acting on instinct, I reach up and rest my hand on its glassy surface. It is warm to the touch, and I can immediately feel an ocean of power waiting for me to reach out and take it. I suppress a shiver, feeling ecstatic at touching the source power once again. It feels like a long-lost friend, tantalizingly strong and ready to be used.

  Before I am overwhelmed, I take a step back, removing my hand from the surface of the crystal. To my surprise, I notice that I have caused the whole thing to glow, bathing the chamber in a soft, blue light.

  Looking around, I can see that everyone has gathered around me, their eyes wide. My cheeks flush hot with embarrassment.

  "Uzr," I say, using their word for sorry. Then, in the common tongue, I mutter, "I should have been paying more attention."

  When my eyes fall on Owyn, I see that he is grinning. "Don't be embarrassed, Zara," he says. "I think you just gave them another reason to respect us."

  "They probably respect us enough," I reply, wading through the crowd and stepping up to him. "We're heroes, remember? What we need is for them to not be afraid of us."

  Reaching down, I pull the quill dagger out of his belt. Then, I make my way back over to the source crystal.

  "Yashi, ishga kirish vaqti," I declare, getting their attention. "Qani, Owyn kabi ish tuting." This means roughly for them to stop gawking and go over to Owyn to start training.

  "What did you say?" Owyn says, looking concerned as everyone shuffles over to him.

  I smirk. "I told them that you are going to start training them, of course!"

  He blanches. "Zara, I don't speak their language!"

  "Don't let that stop you!" I reply, stepping up to the source crystal once more. "Just... go through some exercises or something. Have them follow you. You'll get the hang of it!"

  He grumbles, but I have already begun tuning him out. Now, comes the truly important part.

  I've never created a talisman before, I think to myself, bending down and picking up a rock. Let's hope this works.

  I lift the makeshift dagger in front of me, rock held firmly in the other hand. Then, I locate a spot on the crystal that seems to stick out, a place where I should be able to knock a piece off. Using the quill like a chisel, I place the point on the crystal and bring up the rock to strike, hitting the back of the quill like a hammer. Fortunately, source crystal is known for being extremely brittle compared to other minerals, being more akin to glass. The tip of the quill bites in and breaks off a sizeable piece about the size of my hand.

  The chunk of crystal clatters to the ground, shattering into many smaller pieces.

  "Blast," I mutter, dropping the rock and the quill and kneeling down beside the broken pieces.

  Unless bonded with a mage immediately after being severed, source crystal dies out – at least that’s what I remember reading once at the Academy. Reaching for a sliver about the size of my index finger, I quickly scoop it up and wrap my entire hand around it. Then, I reach mentally for the source power.

  Radiant energy seems to fill my entire body, making every inch of me tingle. Then, after a few minutes, the sensation fades, causing me to sigh audibly as the power seeps out of me.

  Opening my hand, I peer tentatively down at the crystal in my palm. To my delight, it feels alive, a warm, almost indistinct glow radiating from its core. I did it, I think, smiling broadly. On my first try, no less! I managed to create a new talisman!

  After relishing my success for just a moment, I glance back behind me to see what the others are doing.

  Owyn, standing at the front of a rabble, seems supremely frustrated at his attempts to communicate with his students. The youths stand before him, glancing uncertainly at each other while he goes through what looks like some sort of fighting stance.

  No one seems to be replicating his actions.

  Unable to help myself, I let out a small giggle that seems to bounce off the cavernous walls.

  Red-faced, Owyn looks over at me and glares. "Having fun, are you?" He asks, voice thunderous.

  I nod, smiling sweetly at him.

  He grunts. "Well, how about you come help me instead of playing with rocks over there?"

  Still holding my new talisman, I stand up and smooth out the front of my robes. Alright, I think, still laughing on the inside. I suppose I should go help him. After all, we still have a lot of work to be done.

  Walking over to the front of the group, I begin to help with the work of translation.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Owyn

  “Tayyor ... bori!” I shout, using the few words Zara had taught me in the slave’s language. This prompts the pairs of young men to grapple with each other, filling the cave with grunts and the sounds of struggle. I watch from my position atop a large boulder, examining the young fighters use the fighting techniques I had shown them with a keen eye.

  “Yaxshi!” I command after a moment, using the word for stop. Then, after giving them a chance to breathe, I use the word for again. “Yana!”

  They go at it again, as tenaciously as ever.

  We have been in training hard for about two weeks, coming to this secret, abandoned mine day after day while the adults work. They showed great promise when we began training, but that did not prepare me for the amount of progress they have been able to achieve. Like a starving man devouring a feast they have taken to my teaching, picking up everything quickly and never offering a word of complaint.

  Not that I could understand them even if they did, I think to myself wryly, still watching them spar.

  Training in another language has presented many difficulties, most of all my ability to offer critiques. To make up for my lack of fluency, I have been forced to make the teaching more physical than verbal, showing fighting styles rather than simply speaking about them. Admittedly, this seems to be an effective method, though I’m sure the student’s desire has something to do with it.

  They seem to absolutely love the thin
gs I am teaching them, as though having an outlet to vent their frustrations has been something they have been thirsting for their entire lives. Even as I watch them, I can’t help but smile at their ability to wrestle one another to the ground.

  For a brief moment, my gaze wanders around the enormous cavern.

  On the other side of the chamber, near the giant, faintly-glowing source crystal, I can see Zara sitting with a handful of other youths – those who had shown promise in the ability to use magic. After creating a talisman for herself, she set out to test everyone for the ability to channel source energy. She did this by having them place their hands on the source crystal and inciting a few words of power. If the crystal glowed, that meant that they have the gift, or the ability to become a mage. Even now, Zara is instructing them on how to pull in the magical energy, watching maternally as they attempt to make their own source crystals light up.

  One of the youths cries out as he gets pinned to the ground, pulling me back into the training. “Yaxshi!” I shout, prompting them to take a small break.

  Stepping of my perch on top of the boulder, I make my way to the place where I had set up mock spears for weapons training. They are really no more than long, sharpened sticks, but for now they will serve the same purpose. Gathering up the spears in my arms, I walk over to the youths and begin handing them out, looking each of them in the eyes and nodding approvingly.

  Even after struggling with one another, boys against boys and girls against other girls, they stand at a semblance of attention as I walk by, eager for my approval.

  Their steadfastness puts most of the rangers I know to shame, I think to myself, already mentally planning my next series of exercises.

  A young man named Uxai suddenly rushes into the chamber, looking sweaty and disheveled and all out of sorts. Upon seeing us, he immediately races over to our position, speaking in an urgent tone that echoes off the cavern walls. “Jinlar bu erda! Orqaga qaytishimiz kerak!”