Calvin took out his shield and carried it proudly, “Malcor, you should do more to stand out. We don’t belong with the normal supplicants. See? Look!” Calvin pointed to a knight walking towards them on Calvin’s side. Mal thought about it and decided to not – “be unseen” stood out in his mind and he actually found himself wishing he could shrink himself. He adjusted his position so that Ora would block any of the knight’s gaze that seemed to be in a position to spot him.
The knight reached Calvin and greeted him formally. “I am R’Dar Hess, Order of the Shield proctor, and you are?”
“Calvin of Klenna, initiate to the knighthood!” and he stepped away with the knight.
Ora did not indicate she noticed. The Tor representatives following looked concerned until they saw no one taking Malcor. They entered the Grand Chamber. What could have been a life-sized replica of the Goddess in her dragon form reared up in glory at the opposite end. Her dragon heads circled around to look at a raised platform on which rested a throne and podium. The platform appeared to be held up by the hands of the Goddess in her female human form. The noise of voices merged into a din against which a chorus of children, already slotted into the priesthood, sang hymns. As other Temple workers moved about, they also sang in perfect time.
Just below the platform, a knight stood at attention, watching over everything. Malcor knew at that moment where he would go. He tapped Ora on the shoulder, “R’Dar Ora, I have business here and must honor the House of Tor. I also see where I must go, to be a paladin.”
She followed his eyes to the knight by the dias and then led them to a side room. She consulted with a priestess and then came back to them. “The Temple will enable questions. Tor will pay in silver, here.” They did so. A scribe brought them a parchment and silver traded hands. The Priestess returned.
“This is not an affair of the Goddess or the Temple. However, for Her Children, she grants this request to question the dead.” She raised her hands out over the corpse and prayed. Another acolyte entered with a paladin, who placed his sword above the corpse’s ruined face. The Priestess wound her arm through the air as if reeling in a line and then pulled. What could only be a soul tore free from the corpse, or returned to it. The difference felt key but Malcor could not tell on which side the difference mattered.
“Brother, we have questions. Why did you attack this boy?”
The soul looked around as if listening and then replied, “I received a message from our estate in Klenna. This boy will destroy the House of Tor. My brother’s words… “Should I die, the boy must die. Kill him.”
The soul suddenly appeared agitated, its eyes darting around the room. The priestess looked at the Tor representatives and said, “We cannot hold the dead very long, as you know. The jade god watches us. Be fast if you have any other questions.”
The man nodded and said, “Brother, did you ever discuss any other way besides killing Malcor?”
The soul’s agitation had grown to alarm and Malcor imagined it would have been backpedalling away from them if it could move. It shook its head and then whispered, “Don’t let this boy…” and then the whisper turned into a scream of horror. The priestess by the door quickly silenced it with prayer, and the head priestess cut the spell cord holding the soul present.
Malcor found his mouth had grown dry. The room felt darkened and several passerbys stopped and looked into the room was nervous glances. The paladin, his sword not having moved or quavered, swallowed. “That was close,” he said.
Malcor found the Tor man staring at him. While the Priestess cleaned the corpse for burial and did whatever else needed to be done, the man said, “Do you hold ill will towards our house?”
Malcor met his stare and when he did not answer, the man continued, “R’Dar Tor made it very clear that you were to be treasured and accommodated and incented to stay at the Armory, no matter the cost. I did not know of any decision to enforce that by threatening your life. With their deaths, I am now the head of the Tor House. They believed you would destroy the house. Will you?”
R’Dar Ora walked up behind Malcor and put her hand on his arm. “He could,” she said smiling. Her words smacked the man but he held his ground and looked waiting at Malcor.
“The Armory and the master smith Ishan… they are and have been my family. Even R’Dar Tor. I grew up there. None of them understand the business of the Armory outside the actual day to day work. Without a business person, it will surely be destroyed. Not by my hand though. Besides, I made my intent crystal clear to R’Dar Tor and even this one that I am to be a paladin, not a blacksmith, and certainly not whatever this is.” He paused and looked in their eyes and wondered if he should view them through The River. He added, “Unless it is the Goddess’ will that your House fall.”
That last part hit them again like a physical blow and before they could retort, Malcor drew in a deep breath and continued, “Consider this. R’Dar Tor, in the presence of the five dread lords, the King, and Dar Shara of the Temple of Glass plus who knows who else would be in such a place, sought to humiliate me. The KING ordered me to kill him. How can you put me in a position to defend myself from such humiliation and then also expect even a reasonable person to disobey Dar Rojo? Would you?” He breathed and let the silence stretch. “If House Tor is destroyed, it is because R’Dar Tor humiliated it beyond repair.”
Ora squeezed his arm. Malcor imagined he could hear their resolve breaking like glass shattering in slow motion.
The man slowly bowed and uplifted his hands, the traditional show of obeisance. “On my word, House Tor will not and shall not pursue you. In express keeping with the King’s command, the Armory shall remain Tor’s but under the leadership of your master. We will steward it to their benefit. In exchange, I ask that you absolve House Tor of these two attempted death threats. And any lingering resentment from what happened in your Aging.”
Malcor looked down at the man kneeling before him. It seemed like the kind of solution that would put this forever behind him. It felt off though and he could not explain how or why it felt that way. For just a moment, the River pulsed around him and he saw what looked like a hand sign flash from the man kneeling at his feet to the other.
He felt Ora step back and away from him as if jolted by energy. Against the magical silence of the room’s barrier to sound, only their words shared between them. But, he heard another voice – a woman’s voice and the same one that had told him to slay Tor – “House Tor is yours my son. Take it.”
As the words came to him, he felt his sword somehow appear in his hand as he stabbed it forward into the top of the man’s head. “…coming -” His sword speared through skull, brain, and into his neck column. A second later, he removed his sword “…undone. House Tor is mine.” The lifeless corpse dropped to the ground by his feet and he pointed to the other representative who had half-drawn a wand of some kind. “Tell your House Tor, it is my House. Let any who protest come and protest to me. I will be training. I suggest they come quickly lest they find themselves fighting against the Queen’s chosen.”
The servant, caught off-guard by the sudden violence, started shaking and murmured, “Yes…” put his wand away, and then fled.
Malcor wiped his sword on the man’s cloak and resheathed it to find everyone staring at him. The paladin spoke first. “How do you know the Talon Strike technique?” referring to the head stab attack. “Would you join my…”
“My lord," he interrupted the paladin. "The Queen calls me to a different order. I believe my business is done here. Ora?”
She stepped forward as if commanded. She seemed a bit surprised by her unquestioning obedience. “I owe a debt to you and your master. As a gift, I grant a tenth of the Tor House’s property to the shrine at Sai’s estate. Will you administrate my gift?”
Chapter Eleven – The Order of Water
Their business concluded, Ora wished Malcor good fortune as she pointed to the central podium and noted all the other paladins all throughout the
Temple complex. Malcor looked around at each, smiled and said thank you one last time. He had no interest in any of them except the knight standing atop the raised tower in the central chamber. He circled the tall podium so that he would not be in the gaze of the one near its top, watching as the guard’s head turned side to side. With the crowds, it took some time, but at last he reached the steps. He would need to wait for any distraction and then sprint. Only luck would get him to the top.
He meandered with the throng of worshippers near the stairs for many long minutes before a commotion near the entrance seemed good enough. He lunged taking the steps two and three at a time. The stairs wound round and round the tower, but he knew his luck would not last long enough. Almost on cue, he heard someone shout “Look!” Fingers pointed at him and he slammed into the fully-armored chest of a knight. The impact almost knocked him backwards and out into space, but the knight caught his arm and steadied him.
“No one is allowed here. Leave.” He immediately noted the guard must be female. He had not expected that.
Breathing hard, Malcor grabbed the knight’s breastplate and heaved saying, “No. I want to join your order.”
The knight laughed, too quietly for any to hear except Malcor. The knight lifted the visor on the armor’s helmet and Malcor gazed in the scarred face of what would have been a beautiful face. Realizing his own scars and the hypocrisy of that thinking, he put it out of his mind. Activity in the Temple stopped as everyone watched. “They wait for me to throw you to your death. Do you know what Order I serve?”
“I know you serve Takhissis.” He transitioned to the Temple language, “I pledge my life to Her Cause.”
Her eyes narrowed. The crowd had started chanting, “Throw him! Throw him! Throw him!”
Her hand turned from his arm to chest and then a force blast blew him backwards straight off the stairs out over the throng. It really hurt, but he did not fall. After the disorientation and the excited gasps of the crowd, Malcor looked back to the knight. Her arm twisted with magical energy like a snake coiling out to hold him mid-air.
She addressed the crowd, and Malcor saw R’Dar Ora step out to see, and also Calvin with the knight from earlier. They all watched him twisting in the air, trying to get some sense of balance. “This boy wishes to be a knight!” She squeezed and the coils wrapped around him violently, chokingly. “Tell us why boy!”
Shame for another public humiliation warred in him along with the same growing rage he had felt in the sand at Dar Rojo’s feet. He almost lost it. Somehow he fought it back. He could hear people in the crowd laughing and pointing. No one ever believed in him. Sure, the knights loved his work in Klenna, but while they shared their stories none had ever taken him seriously. “I am serious. I. Will. Be. A. PALADIN!”
“The Queen alone decides that, but for now, we might give you a chance! Why?"
"I have decided to follow the Queen, here, to you. To this Order. Don't make me fight – "
Laughter erupted. Finger pointing became clapping and wild cheering. "You would fight me?" the knight asked sarcastically. "You dangle above the crowd that wants to see you fall. Tell me why."
"It is my destiny!"
The knight signaled for quiet and in that sudden silence, the coils holding him relaxed and he felt the pull of magic bring him back to the stairs. “It has been more than a few years since any have sought out our order. What is your name?”
“Malcor.”
“Your father?”
“Dar Kell,” he said feeling it somehow right noting how she choked at the name.
His father’s name did not seem to phase the lady. She pressed, “Profession? Skills?”
“I trained as an armorer and weaponsmith. I speak and write Draconian. I see the River.”
Loudly for all to hear, she said, "Very well, you may try." Then, as applause and cheers began roaring out, she said more quietly to him, “You SEE The River?” The applause continued. “We’ll talk more away from here. Give me your sword and kneel.”
She lifted his sword straight in the air and a pulse of energy blasted over everything in the Temple. People moved their mouths still cheering and then looked around in alarm at the lack of sound. Kids laughed trying to scream but all had gone silent, except the lady knight’s voice. The knight’s voice proclaimed, “Malcor of Klenna. Kneel now, armorer by trade but rise up, Knight of Takhissis and initiate of the Order of Water.”
Malcor noticed her eyes dance along his blade as if she recognized it.
Chapter Twelve – Interlude of Kings
Unseen, a man in dark priest robes sat atop the statue head of the Queen. Below him, he watched Malcor stand and receive back his sword. “You are certain that this is the one to succeed you?”
Dar Rojo also watched and answered, “Yes Kell. Even Armageddon saw it same as I. Though Armageddon later met a small girl, who may be the other. Her name is Klara. She is special and was present at the ceremony, so the conditions of the prophecy could be true in her.”
Dar Kell nodded. “But the boy does not, yet, at least believe he can be king. I can see that he will be a strong addition to the Order of Water. It’s almost a miracle that any of them survived. Looking at him, I cannot tell who the mother was. How do you think he will react to me?”
Dar Rojo poured wine from a crystal decanter into Kell’s glass and some for himself. “He will try to view you through The River. No doubt. In his mind, he knows but any ideas he has of his father are likely warped. His adopted father was excellent by the way. He will want to understand if you are more than just a father, but a real father. He has a strong desire to please, but suffers from near berserker rage, like you. Kaia helped with that, a bit.”
Kell watched Malcor climb the podium with the knight. When they reached the top, she pointed to the Goddess statue, right at Dar Kell, and bowed low. Malcor followed though he did not see the two men talking atop the statue. “He will be very strong. Rojo, to be king of Tania, he must be ready before you ascend.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Instruct the Order to speed his rites, and then you are to take him to Bloodstone. If he is destined to fall in Bloodstone, let his fall be like the epic heroes of myth, and baptize this boy in the blood of heroes.”
“Immediately. To be clear, you wish Malcor baptized in the blood of heroes, as per the prophecies?”
Kell nodded his head. “…Let the blood of heroes flow forth and in them, shall LORD’s successor, be drowned to rise up. Brought forth by blood and serpent wings shall bear him back to life and to Her Love. So shall it be known that this is the one to lead the children to the last bright Temple.”
Malcor’s name had just been announced as Malcor Kell. The applause and cheering was deafening, likely audible down in the city.
“It’s been almost ten years since we had an initiate in the Order of Water,” Rojo noted. "The blood of heroes may be premature. Perhaps a different test first is called for."
Kell just stared. “I’d like to be kept informed of progress. You were right. He has an air of destiny about him. I wonder why he does not sense it. You know, the prophecy does not necessarily foretell your doom Rojo.”
“It doesn’t matter. My time here feels stretched. All I hear anymore is the Queen’s voice urging me into the next. When I stand on Her Throneplane as LORD, and the Lost Temple is reconsecrated, it’ll be a glorious day.” He stretched. “It is remarkable that your son went undiscovered for so long. Your doing?”
“No, Her doing. The sister too. Our enemies have hunted down and slain all the girl children before their Aging Ceremony. His mother must have either been a sympathizer, or someone placed in my rampage by the Queen for this very purpose.”
As they spoke, a light footfall and a whispered apology interrupted them. Without looking, Rojo gestured the newcomer forward. “So, you’ve already heard. Or maybe were waiting. Who else knows Daryx?"
“All of them my lords. I greeted the boys on the East West Highway. The other was o
f no consequence. That one though," pointing to Malcor, “deserves special consideration. Long have I waited for just the right type of paladin. If he is, it changes many things.”
Daryx stepped in line with Rojo and Kell. His shorter but more graceful elven features stood out against the blocky and grim features of the two humans. “He must pass a hastened initiation…” Kell said.
“…and the Goddess requires the blood of heroes.”
Daryx looked askance at them both. “How much hastened?”
“Before the first snowfall, he must be done and ready for Bloodstone. The time of prophecy draws nigh. I will not have time to manage the prophecy and fight the Jade God should it arise here in Tania.” Rojo looked at Daryx noting how bright and white his fanged teeth always appeared in dim light. “I ride for Bloodstone whenever the first snow falls here in the valley. You have until then. And Daryx…”
“Yes?”
“Do not interrupt his Order of Water training. He will need to be a full paladin, unquestioned in the eyes of both our allies and enemies.”
Daryx nodded. “My lords, by your leave, I will go and ready my teams and start tomorrow.”
Daryx gave a traditional farewell in Undercommon, answered in same by both Kell and Rojo. Rojo called back, "By the first snowfall Daryx. No waiting."
From the darkness, Daryx's words floated back with a touch of echo, "Even if he dies, it shall be done."
Kell looked back at Malcor where he walked down the platform. The crowd still cheered. For just a moment, Kell shifted to the River and looked at his son. "Do you know who the mother might be?" the king asked.
"No, but his aura is like Cor'tanos. The shadow dragons will be pleased. I wonder how the Mother will see it?"
Rojo chuckled, "She remembers. I can feel Her wrath whenever the topic of the shade dragons comes up. Should Cor'tanos submit and ask forgiveness, She will seethe but ultimately allow their return. I doubt She will forgive them though, ever. Their departure left our Mother too un-balanced against the Consort to truly seize dominion over all dragons. She hates Cor'tanos for that, even now."
Malcor's Story Page 11