Trials

by Pedro Urvi

  Sonea went on working. Her mind struggled to comprehend what her eyes did not understand. She began to realize she was in the presence of very powerful spells. With great difficulty she was able to decipher several symbols, among them that of Death and the symbol of the Guardian which she and Barnacus had already discovered. That cheered her so much that she forgot all about being found out. She worked for a long while on a very complex hieroglyph and at last concluded that it made reference to the four elements… which left her quite confused… What did the four elements have to do with Death? Even more, what did they have to do with the Guardian? That did not fit. Perhaps she was interpreting it all wrong. She frowned and went on. She managed to decipher the whole passage that described the element of Fire and its power, another one about Water and effects related to that, a few pages after another passage about Earth, and finally another one about Air.

  “Fascinating…” she murmured, scratching her chin.

  She nodded as if to dispel doubt. Something inside her told her that she was not mistaken. The grimoire made reference to Nature’s four elements. Sonea exhaled heavily and remained deep in thought. There was something else, a symbol she was unable to interpret, which implicitly referred to the grimoire itself, as if identifying it in some way. She sighed, then concentrated on the symbol trying to guess what it might be, what the strange inscription might mean.

  Suddenly, she felt as if she had been stabbed with a cold silver dagger. She gave a start and her eyes opened wide.

  Sonea was feeling something inside her she had never felt before. Considering the pain, she realized it was not pain at all. It was some kind of void… of intense absence… Sonea was scared and her knees were trembling, but she did not take her hands off the grimoire. This absence, the void that pierced her chest, was not normal. Something very strange was happening, and she could not say what it was.

  A flash came out of the arcane volume, and Sonea took a step back. Fear took a hold on her heart.

  The book has given out a flash of light and that means that somehow its magic has been activated. This could be very dangerous… I must be very careful… She looked around her to make sure nothing sinister was going on in the room.

  The hall was in shadow. Sonea looked at her body, her heart was racing. Everything else was normal as she tried to compose herself, with her nerves on the verge of snapping. She had not expected in the least that the grimoire would respond to her, still less to feel the void that was piercing her chest. Still, this was no time to step back. Facing her fear and putting her hands on the book in an attempt to understand the feeling, she felt a new spark, far more intense, fill the hall, and leaving her momentarily blinded. Her heart nearly jumped out of her mouth.

  Sonea tried to make sense of the strange sensation she felt in her mouth: it was almost as if she could taste the void, the nothingness. That’s it! It’s Ether! That’s what I’m sensing, at last I understand! It’s the fifth element that some ancient cultures refer to. This explains it: the four elements and Ether, which has some connection with the grimoire. She could not avoid a small cry of joy, and immediately covered her mouth with her hands to try and muffle the sound. She must not be discovered.

  Finding the symbol of Ether Sonea placed her hands over it, and something surprising happened, something that would change Sonea’s life forever.

  The grimoire began to glow with a golden sheen, which increased in intensity as if the sun itself were rising from the Ilenian volume. Sonea felt a tingling and put her hand over her heart. Something was happening inside her that was linked to that glow, something totally new and alien. The glow became more intense, and the feeling grew with it.

  What’s happening to me? What’s this weird feeling in my chest? Am I being affected by some spell? It has to be that. I must have activated some spell without realizing, and I’m feeling its effect on me. But if that’s so, what will the consequences be for me? Will it be painful? It might even be deadly! It’s madness to keep on having anything to do with the grimoire, it’s getting out of hand, I must be rational. Sonea was very nervous indeed, barely able to hold herself together.

  She raised her hand from the symbol of Ether. The invading sensation left her body at once causing her to smile nervously. She put her hand back on the symbol, trying to gain some commonsense understanding of whatever was going on. A new golden glow filled the hall, and the same feeling revived in her. She was scared, but knew that if she took her hand away the process would stop, so she braced herself and decided to continue investigating what was going on. Leaving a mystery half-solved did not go with her nature, and although logic and reason were telling her to stop, she was not prepared to back down. In spite of the obvious risk, she wanted to understand what was happening. She closed her eyes and focused on the feeling in her chest.

  An explosion of blue energy filled Sonea’s mind, making her open her eyes.

  By all the knowledge in the universe! What was that?

  She took her hands off the grimoire in a reflex gesture, and the feeling vanished at once. She breathed deeply several times, trying to calm down, exhaling in a long breath. Very dangerous... I’m playing with fire here… I’m risking my life, she thought, deeply upset, and walked around the table. She put her hands on her hips and breathed deeply, bending over slightly. She held that position for a few minutes until she had calmed down.

  More relaxed now, she looked carefully at the rest of the symbols. She wanted to know whether they would produce a similar sensation or not. She passed her right hand over the symbol of water and touched it lightly.

  Nothing happened.

  Sonea gave a snort and her heart raced. She found the symbol for Earth and put her hand on it.

  She swallowed.

  Nothing happened.

  She smiled triumphantly. Only the element of Ether, which had some connection with the grimoire and the symbol of the Guardian, seemed to respond to her.

  She looked for the next symbol, Air, and more confidently, put her finger on it.

  Nothing would happen this time…

  She was wrong.

  An explosion of golden energy burst from the grimoire with such intensity that Sonea fell backwards. A sharp pain on her backside made her swear and close her eyes. As she did so, an image which came directly from the book hit her mind. She could not immediately make out what it was: it had been too shocking to let her mind make clear sense of it. The image repeated itself inside her head: a vast landscape. Hundreds of blue lakes stretched before her, surrounded by green expanses and lushly-overgrown marshes. The lakes were of different sizes and shapes. Some were enormous, with fishermen toiling in the quiet waters, others so small they were no more than ponds.

  It was a landscape Sonea had already seen before.

  It was the Thousand Lakes.

  But why was the grimoire showing her the Thousand Lakes? And more to the point, why had the symbol of Air evoked it? A new image was thrust upon her so forcefully that she fell to the floor, unable to move. The image flew to one of the Thousand Lakes, the biggest of them, huge as a sea, shining blue under the sun, then dived into its depths. Sonea was taken aback at the realism of the experience, expecting to find herself wet from the dive. But suddenly the image disappeared, and she opened her eyes, in total confusion.

  “This time you’ve really done it,” a voice said from the door.

  Sonea rolled on the floor, and to her dismay found herself facing Rocol. His hand was bandaged, his black eyes threateningly evil. She saw the shapes of his two minions behind him: Uscor and Isgor, who always went with him, unable to make decisions on their own.

  “Damnation…” muttered Sonea. “How long have you been spying on me?”

  “Long enough,” said Rocol arrogantly.

  The three apprentices of the School of War came closer to her.

  “You see? I told you the bastard was up to something, Rocol,” said Uscor. His thin body was shaking with excitement, his freckled face flushed.
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  “You were right to warn me,” said Rocol. He was standing beside Sonea, looking at her with utter disdain.

  “Leave me alone and go back to your rooms. There’s nothing to interest you here.”

  “Stand her up, Isgor,” said Rocol to his fat follower.

  The doughy-faced youth took a look at Sonea, then before she could complain, yanked her up.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  “Shut up, scum! Or would you rather we fetched the members of the Council? I’m sure they’d be delighted to know you’ve broken a direct order. Nobody’s allowed to handle that grimoire, you know it and we’ve just caught you in the act. I can’t wait to see the Grand Master’s face when we tell him.”

  Sonea felt lost, and an overwhelming feeling of panic filled her chest. If those three crooks told what they had seen she would have no chance: the Council would not accept any excuse. The punishment would be severe, risking her expulsion from the Order of Knowledge. She would never get to be a Librarian, still less a Master Archivist, her dream, all she had wanted of life ever since she was a little girl. She looked at Rocol and his sycophants, and tears of impotence and rage came to her eyes.

  “Go back where you came from!” she cried. “This is no concern of yours!”

  “Everything you do is our concern, you leper,” said Uscor. “You contaminate everything you touch with your filth, and we can’t allow you to go on being a stain on this glorious institution. Luckily for all of us, we’ve just caught you in a serious offence which the Council certainly won’t forgive. Make no mistake about that.”

  “Besides, when we tell them the facts, you can be sure you’ll be expelled,” said Rocol with an evil smile.

  “What are you talking about? What are you going to say?”

  “The words forbidden magic and great danger of death for all might just be mentioned…” said Rocol casually, with a sneering laugh.

  “But that’s not true, you’re lying! Why can’t you leave me in peace?”

  “Because a bastard like you has no place among the elite of Erenal. You aren’t worthy of belonging to this order. Only the privileged minds of the nobility should be accepted here. Your mere presence degrades us.”

  “I’m more intelligent than the three of you together and you know it. That’s what you can’t accept.”

  “You’re like a plague we have to eradicate before it spreads!” Rocol said, his face red with rage and his eyes distilling hate.

  Sonea took a step back before the exaggerated rage of the young man.

  “Hold the peasant, Isgor,” ordered Rocol.

  Isgor took a step forward, moving his huge body towards the librarian.

  Without thinking twice, Sonea kicked him in the groin.

  “Arghhhh!” was all he managed to say before he doubled over in pain.

  “You damned bitch!” Rocol was possessed by rage.

  Uscor and Rocol lunged for the girl, who backed up to the desk. Uscor grabbed her by the arm, Sonea, frantic by now, gathered all her strength and punched him in the jaw. Uscor, surprised by the punch, fell backwards.

  “Stupid weakling!” Rocol muttered to the thin youth. “She’s nothing but a woman, you good-for-nothing. I’ll take care of her.”

  Sonea, was thoroughly scared by now. She turned and ran to the other side of the desk, using it as a barrier between her and Rocol.

  “You won’t get away from me!” he said threateningly, waving a small sharp silver penknife.

  Sonea was petrified. She knew Rocol was out of his mind and that he hated her irrationally, but she had never expected him to threaten her like that. Her life was in real danger and she had to do something fast ˗ but what?

  Rocol lunged with a couple of thrusts from the other side of the desk, which Sonea avoided by bending back. The unusual sensation she had felt in her chest when she was handling the grimoire returned, this time more intensely, as if Rocol’s penknife had pricked her. Just the thought of that action made that inner void grow. She looked at the open book, shining under the light of the oil lamp and in that moment of panic she decided the best thing to do was grab the grimoire and run.

  She reached for it.

  “Don’t you dare touch it, you whore!” shouted Rocol, thrusting his knife at Sonea. He got her in the arm just as her hand touched the grimoire.

  “Aaagh!” she cried when she felt the cut.

  She looked at her arm, saw the blood on her tunic sleeve and then her hand on the volume, over one of the symbols: that of the Guardian.

  Rocol thrust his knife again. He looked totally deranged.

  Sonea closed her eyes and held on to the grimoire. She felt all that strange energy inside her which she did not understand. The symbol of the Guardian appeared in her mind, followed by other golden symbols which she was unable to interpret. Without any explanation on her part, that inner energy and the grimoire were working together. The penknife cut her again, and she was engulfed by the pain. Instinctively she raised her hand to protect herself from the next lunge.

  And something incredible happened.

  A whitish, sinuous energy, almost transparent, like vapor coming out of your mouth on a cold February morning, surged from her hand and enveloped Rocol’s head. The apprentice of the School of War ceased in his attack and began to scream. Sonea could feel the arcane vapor consuming Rocol’s life. It was emptying it and devouring it. The symbol of the Guardian filled Sonea’s mind again, and the strength of the spell became more tangible. The young man’s screams filled the hall as he crumpled to the floor.

  “Stop it! For the Gods’ sake, stop it!” yelled Uscor.

  But Sonea did not know how to stop it. It was not her controlling the spell but the Ilenian grimoire.

  “You’re going to kill him!” shouted Isgor.

  Sonea did not know how to stop the spell. She could see Rocol’s face beginning to age, drained of life, his hair turning white. In a matter of seconds he had aged fifteen years and he was screaming in agony. If she did not stop this immediately Rocol would die, and his death would be a weight on her, on her conscience, forever. She could not kill him, no matter how much she might despise that vile apprentice.

  But how could she stop the spell? What could she do? What would stop the spell?

  The grimoire!

  She put her hands hastily under the golden covers and shut it.

  Sonea looked at Rocol with fearful eyes. The spell vanished in a moment and the mysterious vapor disappeared. The aged face of the now white-haired apprentice of the School of War relaxed, and his screams stopped at last. Sonea sighed with relief. The whole experience had been so intense she had not realized that her blood was staining the floor from the two cuts Rocol had inflicted on her.

  A deep, severe voice filled the hall.

  “What’s all this to-do? Someone tell me immediately what’s going on here!”

  Sonea turned round and saw the Grand Master followed by several members of the Council. Lugobrus’s face was contorted with rage.

  Isgor hastily pointed at Sonea, accusingly. “It was her, Sonea laid her hands on the forbidden book!”

  “She nearly killed Rocol with a spell!” said Uscor pointing at his friend’s face.

  Sonea knew then that she was in really big trouble, and that the consequences would be disastrous for her.

  Dangerous Passage

  The days after the incident with the crocodiles went by peacefully, with no more untoward events apart from the inevitable scrapes and scuffles of a vessel filled to the brim with people and goods.

  Living on board the ship was turning out to be particularly pleasant for Komir. He liked sailing down that endless river, carried by the swaying waves. Not even the scorching sun bothered him much. His tormented spirit soared as he felt the ship cut the calm turquoise water. It was gratifying to his soul, and he enjoyed it.

  He hoped the peace and quiet would not be broken again by any further incident, but mostly he hoped they would not be stopped by a Nocean
patrol. They had seen several warships pass them by, carrying troops and supplies heading North. If they were discovered, they would be hanged on the spot as spies. So Kendas had assured him, and he was an expert in the methods of the Nocean army.

  Captain Albatros kept order on his ship with punishing, iron-clad discipline. The slightest altercation ended with the perpetrator whipped at the mast. Two days previously he had ordered one of his sailors to be hanged for insubordination. Aliana had tried to intercede, but Captain Albatros had been deaf to the Healer’s pleas. He had the deck cleared, hen executed the man in front of everyone on board. Kendas had explained to the group that it was the law of the sea, relentless but necessary. It had to be respected by all, just like in the army. If the Captain had not hanged that sailor he would be risking a future mutiny through his own lack of determination. Discipline on a ship had to be exemplary, or else the ship was lost, and with it the passengers as well.

  Nighttime fell, extending her endless black wings, speckled with thousands of lights, over the ship. The cool breath of the gods blessed the passengers, but Komir, deep in his own thoughts, did not notice. Lost within himself, he was at the prow watching the ship’s progress along the silent river, as beautiful as it was infinite.

  A velvety voice whispered close to him: “It is impressive, isn’t it?” and his heart skipped a beat.

  Komir turned and saw Aliana standing at his side to contemplate the landscape unfolding ahead. The light of the moon scattered with silver reflections over the deck to the delight of both. There, enveloped by the night breeze and under the glow of thousands of stars in the infinite sky, they felt they were in an idyllic setting. All worries had been erased from their minds: the war, the Nocean soldiers, the amphibian predators of the river, the bandits of the shores… everything was swept out of their minds.