by Kelly Carr
The Trevi of Torvain
by Kelly Carr
Copyright © 2019 Kelly Carr
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1-087-33295-6
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank all the people who helped this book finally see the light of day. Most notably, Mom and Mel who checked my work when I was in doubt about my commas, and Viv, whose enthusiastic and insightful feedback made the entire process so much more interesting.
The Five Kingdoms of Kailar
BOOK ONE
PROLOGUE
Many years ago, a number beyond counting, there was nothing in the world but air, water, earth, fire, trees as far as the eye could see, and magic. Time passed, and the world became lonely, so it drew together its magic to create a living being.
This being, a woman, saw how lonely the world had grown and wielded the magic of which she was made to create other creatures, many insects and animals, and a few people, similar in appearance to herself, who could also use magic.
These new people came to call themselves the Trevi and, over time, some of them chose to forsake their magic and live a simpler life, thus inadvertently creating the race of Humans.
For many years, the animals, Humans, and Trevi lived side by side, and there was peace and great prosperity. Cities were built, art and invention thrived, and nearly everyone was happy. But as time passed on, the Humans began to quarrel over money, land, and power over others.
War broke out, and the Humans flocked to the various tribes among the Trevi, begging for magical assistance. The Trevi cared nothing for the Humans’ petty conflicts and refused to get involved.
Angry at their refusal, the Humans turned their hatred and anger towards the Trevi, who found themselves forced to join the conflict in order to defend their way of life. Day by day, the land was ravaged by war. Trevi and Humans alike were killed, injured, or died of starvation.
Many of the Trevi tribes, never numerous to begin with, were hunted to extinction. Finally, only the most powerful elemental tribes were left: Sylphs who could control the air, Aidans who could manipulate fire, Undines who could control water, and Oreads who held power over the earth under their feet.
Seeing her people in such a state, the one who had created them, the ‘Mother of Magic’ as she had come to be known, could not stand idly by. However, she couldn’t bring herself to fight the Humans who were, after all, descendants of the Trevi.
For a time, the Mother of Magic attempted to protect her people, using all the magic she knew, but it was futile. In the end, she used all her power to raise vast forests and mountain ranges, separating the Human armies from one another. The trees were impervious to fire, and their number was too great for them to be cut down one by one.
The Trevi retreated into these safe havens and the Humans, left with no other option, halted their wars. Enough trees were cut through the forests to make passable trade routes, and what had once been a single kingdom known as ‘Kailar’ was split into five separate kingdoms known only by the names of their ruling families: Torvain, Karzay, Bethen, Marakai, and Lezar.
The Trevi were horrified by the actions of the Humans. When the war was over, they chose to remain hidden in the forest. They allowed no Humans to pass through their land except to travel along the roads that connected the kingdoms.
With less and less contact between the Trevi and the Humans, the Humans, who were short-lived and easily distracted, began to forget about the magic in their history. Likewise, over time, the intricacies of Human culture began to fade from the minds of even the most long-lived Trevi, though the atrocities the Humans had committed against them were never forgotten.
The Mother of Magic, whose power was not without limits, had grown tired after expending so much energy creating a safe refuge for the Trevi. With great sadness, she realized that she no longer had the strength to maintain her physical body. However, before allowing her magic to disperse, she assured the people she had created and lived side-by-side with for centuries that she would one day return…
Chapter one: Davu
The band of Humans had stopped for the night. Half a dozen men moved about, feeding horses and setting out bedrolls. Scattered about the camp were a few women with their children, none old enough to stray far from the comfort of their mother’s skirts.
Davu drew back as campfires were lit. The flames threw sparks and cast dappled shadows across his face where he sat in the branches of an oak tree. His bright blue eyes gleamed as they caught the light. His mouth watered as the scent of meat roasting over the fires teased his nose. He shivered, envying the warmth and comfort of the travellers below.
He had been watching them all day. Contact with Humans was strictly forbidden, but that had never stopped Davu from observing their strange habits and customs. His sister thought him silly for studying them, but he found them fascinating.
Below, one of the men knelt by the side of a woman who lay limply on a bedroll, breathing shallowly. The man stroked her brow softly and said something in a gentle voice. The woman gazed up at him and answered in words Davu couldn’t make out. Just then, his attention was diverted by a small child, a little girl with rosy cheeks and thick auburn hair. Her eyes, vivid green and bright with intelligence, were fixed on the very spot where he lay concealed in the shadows.
The girl turned and ran to the side of the woman on the bedroll, calling out excitedly. Tensing, Davu prepared to flee if any of the other Humans seemed inclined to investigate, but at that moment, the ailing woman cried out and began to convulse. Several of the Humans rushed to her side, hurriedly pushing the child out of their way. Several minutes passed, then the Humans drew back from their patient, and Davu knew it was over. Pale and still, the woman lay on the ground, her empty brown eyes gazing up into nothingness.
The child crawled over to the woman. "Mama," she said. "Mama!" She shook the woman's shoulder impatiently and began to cry. Finally, one of the men took her by the arm and attempted to draw her away. What happened next occurred so swiftly that afterwards, Davu was never quite sure exactly how it had all come to pass.
The ground began to tremble. Chunks of earth rose into the air, seemingly of their own accord, and started to spin in wild circles with no regard for any living creature that stood in their way. The campfire flared up, and flames lashed out of it like snakes. A sourceless wind whipped the branches of the trees into a frenzy. Streaks of light appeared in the air and grew brighter and brighter until Davu was forced to close his eyes against their brilliance. He flung a hand out to protect his face as debris pummeled his bare arms and head. Soot from the fire crept into his mouth, causing him to cough.
Davu didn't know how long he lay there, clinging to the tree with his free arm while below him, people screamed. At last, however, all grew still and quiet. Cautiously, Davu opened his eyes and gaped down at the destruction below him. Food and supplies were strewn across the clearing. The horses had broken free of their restraints and fled, and all the Humans lay senseless on the ground. All but one.
The little girl stood in the center of the clearing, sniffing back her tears and looking around her in confusion. Her arms were covered in small scratches, and her hair was so tangled and full of twigs and dirt, that Davu doubted even the most patient hands could ever set it right, but otherwise she appeared relatively unharmed.
Davu watched her in wonder. He had never seen such power. No Human had ever been able to do such things, nor any of the Trevi except…but it was impossible. There had been rumors for centuries, but none had ever proved to be more than wishful thinking.
He slipped gracefully down the tree trunk and entered the clearing warily, keeping an eye out for any sign of movement from the adult Humans. The
girl looked up, and her eyes went wide. Davu imagined she had never seen anyone quite like him before.
For the most part, Humans and Trevi appeared much alike except for a tendency the Trevi had for their ears to grow slightly pointed as they became older. However, Davu’s size was intimidating, even to some of the Trevi, and he had never seen a Human with skin that matched the midnight black of his own. He gave the child a friendly smile and crouched down in front of her.
“Hello,” he said, using the Common Tongue that all folk knew. “What’s your name?”
“Lydia,” the girl replied shyly.
“I’m Davu. I live in the forest. Are you alright?”
“I’m scared,” Lydia said, her voice almost a whisper. Her whole body trembled, and Davu resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and comfort her, for fear that it would only frighten her more.
“I won’t hurt you,” Davu promised, gently reaching out and taking her small hand in his large one.
“What happened?” Lydia asked, her chin trembling as though she might break into tears again.
Davu regarded her thoughtfully. “I’m not sure, child. Wait here a moment.” He stood and moved about the clearing, checking each of the Humans. Three men and a woman were dead, their eyes wide and glassy, and two of the children. The rest were unconscious and seriously injured.
Calmly, Davu located one of the traveller’s water skins and poured some of the liquid onto his palm. As if it had a mind of its own, it slid across his skin, cool and comforting. He laid his hand across the injuries of each of the unconscious Humans in turn, torn skin and broken bones healing at his touch.
There was a small gasp and Davu turned to find Lydia watching him. She reached out tentatively and touched the water on his hand, jerking backwards a moment later.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“That’s magic, little one. Would you like to see more?”
The girl nodded her head and Davu plucked a branch from a nearby tree. Laying it on the ground, he began to sing, the deep tones of his voice reverberating through the clearing. As he sang, the branch twisted and grew until it formed a ring and tiny pink flowers sprang to life around it. Davu stopped and reached out to lay the simple crown of flowers on the little girl’s head. She clapped with delight and tried to mimic the sounds he had just made. Davu chuckled until a branch from a nearby tree whipped out unexpectedly, and he had to duck to avoid being hit. He looked at the girl again and knew what he had to do.
“Lydia, will you come with me to see my sister? I think she would like to meet you,” he said.
Lydia shook her head. “I won’t leave Mama,” she said, clutching the skirts of the dead woman beside her.
Davu couldn’t bring himself to explain the truth. The child was hardly of an age to understand the concept of death.
“Your mama is sleeping,” he said kindly. “She won’t like to be woken. Let’s go now. We can return later.”
Lydia frowned, considering this, then nodded her agreement and allowed Davu to pick her up. Cautiously, she reached up a pale hand and laid it on his bald head where it rested like a single star on a canvas of nighttime darkness. She giggled, tears forgotten, and nestled into his muscular arms with a yawn.
There was a rustle at the edge of the clearing. Davu turned his head and saw one of the child’s companions just regaining consciousness. The young man’s eyes swept the camp, taking in his fallen companions, then rested on the child in Davu’s arms. The boy struggled to his feet.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Davu hesitated, then decided to tell the boy the truth. “This child has just produced an unprecedented display of magic,” he said, discreetly covering the little girl’s ears. “She may be a danger to herself and others. I’m taking her to my sister to ask her advice.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere,” the boy said, reaching for a dagger at his waist.
Davu sighed as the boy charged at him. With a grimace of sympathy, he struck the young man firmly on the temple and caught him with one arm as he fell to the ground, unconscious. He laid him down gently and glanced around to be sure no one else was watching before he stepped back into the trees, vanishing into the darkness with his precious cargo already asleep in his arms.
It was no short distance to Davu’s sister, Jina’s home in the Trevi city of Ozryn. He hadn’t intended to visit her for another week, but now the journey was unavoidable.
As he ran, he considered how to explain himself. Jina would not be pleased that he had spirited away a Human child, but though she was born to Human parents, she was clearly something more than Human, and even more than Trevi. It would be dangerous to leave her among the Humans with such raw power. Davu nodded to himself. Yes, Jina must see the sense in that.
Suddenly Davu let out a cry and nearly dropped Lydia in surprise as little orbs of light appeared around her. He took a step backwards, but the lights floated after him and began quietly pulsing in different colors. Davu gaped at the sleeping child as realization dawned on him: she was dreaming. Even in her sleep, her power was leaking out. He had to get her to Ozryn, and quickly. He took a deep breath and resumed his hurried pace.
It was nearly sunrise by the time Davu heard the sound of rushing water that signalled his arrival. Ozryn was built along the Mirator River. The city was almost invisible in the darkness. Few lights were lit at this hour, but Davu knew where to find the crèche, and he knew Jina would be there.
Among the Trevi, it was customary for children to be brought up in a crèche from a young age. The one in Ozryn was the largest and most diverse of any in the Erean Forest. Several dozen Trevi children between the ages of two and ten were fostered in Ozryn. They came from all across the world to live and learn in the capital city of the Trevi. Only the most magically talented children were raised there. It was the perfect place for Lydia…if they would take her. Luckily, Davu’s sister, Jina, just happened to be the healer assigned to the crèche.
There was a single candle alight in the nursery. Davu laid Lydia down on a pillow by the door and then picked his way across the room, deftly avoiding the outflung limbs of the children, asleep on the cushioned floor. On the far side of the room was a small infirmary for the children who injured themselves in their training, and just beyond that was the long hallway where the caretakers slept.
At the fourth door, Davu stopped and knocked quietly. He heard his sister’s muffled voice within and another person’s soft reply, then the door opened, and Jina slipped out into the hallway, hastily tying on a green silk robe.
“Davu? What are you doing here? Go away and come back after sunrise,” she said irritably and turned to return to bed without waiting for his answer.
Davu grabbed her arm to stop her. He shook his head, pressed a finger to his lips, and beckoned for her to follow him.
With a sigh and a regretful glance at her door, she complied.
Davu’s heart leapt when he re-entered the crèche and saw no more lights floating by the doorway. He scrambled across the room and found Lydia sitting up and looking around blearily. He breathed a sigh of relief and scooped her into his arms before Jina could get a good look at her.
“Davu, what’s going on? What is this about?” Jina asked when they were outside, but Davu shook his head and gestured towards the trees outside the city. “It’s too early for this,” Jina groaned, but she followed him anyway.
When they were well outside the city, Davu turned and revealed the little girl in his arms. Jina frowned, then her eyes widened as she took in the girl’s unusual clothes.
“Davu! She’s not—did you—? How could you—?” She couldn’t seem to decide how to reproach him first. Finally, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as though gathering all her patience. When she opened them, she looked him straight in the eye. “Take her back where you found her. Now. I know you have some strange fascination with Humans, but you have no right to kidnap their children, and a
Human child has no business being on Trevi land.”
“She’s not Human,” Davu said.
“Nonsense,” Jina said, glowering. “Where did she come from then?”
Davu felt Lydia’s little hands tighten on his tunic and stroked her hair soothingly. Suddenly he realized that they had been speaking in the Oread language as they usually did. “Jina, we’re frightening her,” he said, switching to the Common Tongue.
Jina took in the girl’s wide eyes and the way she clung to Davu and her expression softened. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said kindly. “I am angry at my brother, not at you. Here,” she waved a hand and swept the dew from the grass at their feet, lifting the droplets to eye-level and making them spin and dance until the girl relaxed, too distracted with amazement to be afraid.
“Lydia, this is my sister, Jina,” Davu said. “Jina, meet Lydia.”
Jina crossed her arms and frowned impatiently. “Davu, explain yourself, and quickly. The sun will be up soon, and if anyone sees a Human child here…” her voice trailed off, but her meaning was clear.
“I told you,” Davu said, “She’s not Human. Her parents were Human, but I saw her manifestation. It was the most powerful I’ve ever seen.”
Trevi children’s magical talents didn’t emerge until they were at least three years old. The manifestation was the first time a Trevi child used their power. Usually it was an accident, and it could be very unpredictable.
Jina raised an eyebrow. “What power did she manifest?” she asked.
“All of them. Even some that I’ve never seen before.”
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Jina said doubtfully.
Davu nodded. “I think she may be the Mother of Magic.”
“Really?” said a third voice from somewhere in the branches above them.