Something happened and Calvin felt a warm embrace wash over him, removing the pain in his leg and face. It energized him and he stood back up on increasingly firm legs. He saw a young priestess, barely his age if that, praying hands pointing towards Calvin. Too fast for his eyes to follow, the instructor’s blade pierced his throat and severed his spine through the back of his neck. He barely had time to register shock, surprise, or even the pain when that warm embrace started and then abruptly ended as the young priestess collapsed into a seizure. The next healer in line prayed for Calvin and as the instructor’s sword pulled out through his neck, he felt his body reknitting itself. He wondered where Malcor was and if he had to go through this test too.
This time, Calvin immediately attacked and almost scored a hit. The instructor parried and made several obvious attacks of his own. Calvin defended those easily enough but again, that kick to the face got him. This time the force of it spun him around in a circle and he fell back off the stage. Before he hit the ground though, the warmth of healing cushioned his body’s impact. He leapt back into combat and after several minutes, Calvin’s mentor took the instructor’s place. All around them, mentors engaged their pupils in combat.
It was nothing like any of the training Calvin had experienced back in Klenna. The Rite continued relentless and cruel. With some grim satisfaction, Calvin noted several of his classmates collapse. Their mentors dragged them off and then joined combat with others lacking mentors. Calvin fought through hunger and dire thirst. At some point, he felt his sweat stop and his body began cycling through hot and cold flashes he knew meant dehydration. Someone nearby said, “It is called the Rite of Pain because, for healers, to enable someone to continue fighting like this, causes them pain.”
Calvin shook it out of his head and renewed his attack against his mentor. He tried everything he had ever been taught but felt too slow and sluggish to make any of it work. He wondered how Malcor fared. His instructor slapped his face with the flat of his sword. It made Calvin’s head ring. His master said something about a drink. He could not tell. A cup pressed into his hand. It was water. He drank it greedily but a sword cut his hand in two through the cup. He barely noticed his ruined hand, only the waste of the water where it fell mingling with his blood. The healing spell that began pulling his hand back together barely registered.
At last, Calvin fell to his hands and knees. Everything swam. He felt ponderous and yet could barely feel his sword in his hand. His body, as if not his own, did strange things. He felt himself lift up and watched with disconnected fascination as a pile of blood vomit poured from his lips. “I… must… fight….” The words sounded like a scream to him. He lunged forward slashing wildly with his sword. And then blackness.
He came to no idea how long later. A healer leaned back and said, “Well done Knight of the First Rite. Well, almost.”
His mentor put down a goblet of wine and looked at him as if appraising an item of questionable value. “You did well Calvin. You could have done better. But still, all things considered. Over half your group was sent to the Soldier’s Keep for military assessment. You still have a chance at becoming a paladin. How do you feel?”
The room swam and he felt so hungry. “I’m starving. I never imagined it’d be like that. Is that what combat is like?”
“No, it’s worse. Eventually, the healers fall and a knight who cannot recognize his and his team’s boundaries will also fall. When that happens and there is no healing, you die. The empire does not invest much in dead men walking. When even the healers fall, there is no return. There is only failure. You must not let your pride cause your team to fall. No forgiveness. No atonement. No afterlife. No glory. Do you understand?”
Calvin nodded. “Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Your understanding will be tested. See that you pass. You did well today, but don’t let it go to your head. You still have much to learn.”
Calvin sat up, eating and looked around. His quarters had changed. “You’re in the initiate barracks now,” his mentor said. “You get your own quarters and an increased food ration. When you get to a mirror, you’ll see that your Rite of Pain has caused you to lose a lot of weight. Until you’re healthy, you’ll be reviewing doctrine and history and eating like a king. I’ll see you in a few days. Regain your strength.” With that, Calvin found himself alone.
His new quarters were about the size of his old room back in Klenna. Not much bigger than a normal bed but with privacy and a closet. His shield gift from Kaia hung proudly on the wall by the door. His clothing and armor had all been cleaned. He noted a new outfit, similar to the robes and breeches worn by lower level Temple workers but bearing the Order of the Shield’s blaze. He stood but found vertigo too hard to overcome and sat back down.
“I wonder how Malcor is doing. I haven’t really seen him at all since the Temple. No matter, I did it!” He steeled himself and stood. Once dressed, he stepped out into the corridor and heard the sounds of a busy mess hall just down the way. The smell of cooking lulled him there and he entered recognizing a few of his former classmates. Most looked down-trodden, beaten, and skeletal. He caught a glimpse of himself in a reflective window and realized he looked the same.
An orderly came over and asked him how hungry he was and took him to a seat. The girl he had sat by before the Rite was there and smiled coyly at him. Some kind of pastry bread had smeared along her face and she self-consciously wiped her mouth. “So you made it,” she said. She tried to smile and put energy into the comment, but it came out flat and exhausted sounding. She noticed and blushed.
“It’s okay. I feel the same,” Calvin said trying to smile and finding his face felt numb. “I’m Calvin by the way, from Klenna. What’s your name?”
“Seline,” she replied. “I’m from the Dutchy. Do you…”
“Yeah, I’m familiar with the Dutchy, but only from maps. Southernmost territory on the south wilderness right?”
His food arrived and they made staccato conversation back and forth as they ate. Eventually, a knight in full armor entered the hall and approached their table. “Lady Seline,” he said. “Your retinue is ready and awaits.” He bowed. “Doctrine begins in just under an hour.”
She looked sideways at Calvin and then nodded. The knight withdrew. Calvin watched the whole thing trying not to be impressed. “Lady… are you part of a noble house? My family…”
When the knight was some distance away and the mess hall’s din would mask their conversation she said, “Yes, you’re the Klennan mayor’s son right? My family used to be noble, but fell out of favor long ago. I’m the first to enter the knighthood since.”
Calvin thought for a moment and then said, “I remember hearing something about a trade dispute but that’s the only news to have reached Klenna about the Dutchy in ages.”
Seline laughed. “So word of this has reached Klenna. I’m not surprised. Though it was not a trade dispute. My great-grandfather led an expedition into the wilderness to verify rumors of ancient treasure. He found it. There was too much to bring back, so he brought back what they could and left guards behind. Before reinforcements could get back, the guards were attacked and another rival house laid claim to it. They also spread rumors that they had been the first. Long story short, my family lost the claim and were forced to pay reparations. But I am going to change all of that.” She stood and excused herself to go get ready for their doctrine class. “See you there.”
Chapter Thirty One - Instruction
Doctrine class focused on the Rite of Pain, healing, and how the Queen grants divine power to mend wounds, even overcoming death, to those deemed worthy. “In the absence of apparent worth, the Queen has entrusted the person’s “worth” to the healer. As knights, you will be assigned a healer. They will protect and heal you and you must protect them. Why does the Queen allow this?”
Several answers were given but they all centered on how the Empire’s purpose is to safeguard the dragons. Something felt wrong about that answ
er to Calvin but he could not quite say why. The instructor asked several clarifying questions about this answer and organized a debate. While different sides tried to explain this objective of safeguarding the dragons, orderlies brought food and drink. Everyone still suffered from the wounds and healing. But, as the conversation progressed, something remained about the objective that did not sit well with Calvin.
At last, Calvin could not take it anymore and he signaled desire to speak. The instructor allowed him. He stood and said, “Given that dragons predate humans, and that the dragon emperor has safeguarded us for millennia, how can our objective as an empire be to safeguard the dragons? The entire alliance for the Forsaken Islands was created by Emperor Alerius and set with the deity of the Isles. As such, the number of dragons are limited. Humans, and humanoids, and other monsters have threatened the empire in its history but nothing except the Jade God has ever actually threatened the dragons. Am I wrong? The objective in the Queen granting healing must be something besides protecting the dragons.”
“And, Sir Calvin,” the instructor prodded, “What do you think that objective is?”
“The only thing I can think of is that She allows it to serve as a reminder that She is part of our lives. Not just a Goddess watching us from Her Throne. Not just some disconnected Mother we talk about. She is here, with us. Other deities allow healing, even amongst those who serve the Goddess. So, even if the Queen took it away entirely and did not allow it, we could still find healing when and if needed right?”
The instructor beamed. “Well said Sir Calvin. At the heart of the Goddess’ doctrine is a core notion that we are preparing this world for the Queen. It is Hers. As such, we have a duty to serve as caretakers and stewards. Sometimes that means we build glorious Temples. Other times it means we engage in battle to remove stains from Her Throneplane. So, Sir Calvin, continuing with your idea… tell us. Why does the Queen’s claim of this world as Her own matter to the doctrine of healing?”
Though Calvin remained standing, Seline stood and spoke. “It matters as a function of math. The dragon emperor’s scripture notes that fewer than one in a thousand are capable of becoming paladins. One in a hundred of either wielding magic or divine might. The Book of Generations further noted that raising offspring surrounded by paladins, mages, or priests had no bearing on this. The dread emperor called it “Prebirth Destiny”, I think.”
The instructor nodded indicating she had the term correct. “So,” she continued, “for Prebirth Destiny to matter, Tania needs lots of citizens. If we want there be one thousand knights, we need a population of families having children that is one thousand times that. Healing helps preserve members of the population that would otherwise fall to disease or accidents. It also preserves the dragon emperor’s investment in the training we receive here.”
The instructor turned to the others and said, “Witness. This is the real reason why the Goddess allows healing. The dragon emperor’s intercession ensures the Temple and even paladins the ability to heal, even beyond death. While there are teachings about how various doctrines touch on other points of Imperic life, as a paladin, we want you to have a firm grasp of two things. The first is that you will hear teachings and variants of teachings that may not be correct. By decree, it is to be tolerated. As a paladin, you are to respect those differences. After all, you never know… maybe that person or priest's different understanding is actually how their Prebirth Destiny plays out.
"The second is the giving and receiving of healing honors you and the healer by continuing this great purpose. While training and skill and talent may help you overmaster your foes, each of us has foes far beyond our ability. Remember, your enemies are not just those you fight. You fight for the Empire, for Tania, for the dragon emperor, for the Goddess. As of right now, you can add the Jade God, its hellhounds, and all the enemies of Tania to your personal list of those who want to hurt and kill you. Receiving healing is not dishonorable. In point of fact, if a healer sees a knight in need and fails to heal them, the healer can be punished. The same holds true for a knight who refuses healing. It is a gift and a tool and a weapon. We will now have a demonstration.”
A priestess walked into the room. Her bearing and attire showed her high rank and when she looked over the room, her gaze drove home the point she said, “You are all beginners. You passed your first Rite - of Pain. Congratulations. Who cares? Half of your class failed and are now trying to impress the soldiers enough to become officer candidates. Think on that for a moment because there are other tests before you become a true paladin. I need a volunteer. It will hurt.”
A few tentative hands went up, but Seline stood and boldly volunteered. In that instant, Calvin knew that he should have volunteered. The priestess nodded and Seline walked down to stand by her. The instructor added, "This is Dar Niss, a high priestess who has come to see how you all fared with your first rite.”
Not missing a beat, Dar Niss continued, “Healing can work both ways. It can restore vitality. Reversed, it can take vitality. It is only limited by the imagination of the priestess.”
The instructor brought over a scroll and the priestess referred to it briefly. “I see you survived the Rite of Pain for seven hours and suffered mortal wounds requiring the healing skills of fourteen initiates. Impressive. Your name…?”
“Seline! Of The Dutchy!”
“Lady Seline, I apologize in advance. This is going to hurt.” She bowed her head and began praying in draconian. As she did so, priest initiates filed into the room behind her. The draconian words, often chanted by the priesthood, this time sounded dissonant – somehow wrong. A golden light enveloped her hands but crackled with gray-rimmed black lightning. A wash of heat lifted the priestess’ hair and she opened her eyes, which also crackled with gold and gray-black power. She made a hand sign and the energy cracked outwards like a broken tree and just barely touched Seline. For such a violent but glancing touch, the audience expected Seline to simply dodge. She tried but the whip touched her. Disproportionate to the apparent force of the blow, Seline fell backwards clawing at her face and skin. Her cloak and robes shredded into bloody gashes as her skin melted and boiled blood erupted through her skin. Her screams of agony and choking cries of pain brought fresh memories of the Rite of Pain to everyone present.
The priestess twisted her hands into another sign and Seline’s body convulsed in death throes, her seizures twisting her gory fingers into claws as she writhed on the dais. The sound of a bone in her body snapping resonated and echoed. Then the healing light from the priest initiates touched her, pulling her back by degrees to life. The room fell completely silent except for the soft prayers of healing that barely kept up with the priestess’ horrible spell. The priestess spoke. “Lady Seline, a true paladin would stand and endure the pain. Though it feels real, with healing, it is no different than an illusion. Push it aside. Conquer it. Call your sword and make me stop!”
Seline shook and trembled on the brink of convulsing again but knelt back, her fists supporting her on the ground. Though blood fell from her torn face, she drew her sword. Using it as a crutch, she stood. The priestess twisted her hands into a new sign. Seline choked as pustules full of slime erupted all over her body. She held her sword and took a step forward. Another step and the trail of blood following her advanced another to the priestess. If anything, Seline appeared to strengthen. Another hand sign and the flesh withered from her body, skin stretched across bone cracked and tore. She lifted her sword point, palsied though it was, to the priestess’ throat.
The priestess ended the torrent of pain and caught Seline as she fell. “Well done child!” Behind her, all but two of the initiates collapsed, utterly drained. The priestess noted the two standing and said to them, “Excellent!” Her hand brushed Seline’s ruined face, strands of her once beautiful hair sticking in clumps. The priestess helped her stand and lifted her head to her classmates. “For Takhissis, there is no sacrifice too large, or small. The Goddess will use us as she sees fit
. This one – Lady Seline – will be continuing her studies at the Temple. For those of you with ambition, or talent, or even simple desire… remember this. The pathway to glory will not be found sitting out there in your classroom while others boldly volunteer to serve.”
The two remaining healers stumbled forward and took Seline. She blinked and looked around dazedly. The priestess leaned forward and kissed her forehead. From that kiss, skin mended and tendons and sinew branched back together. The snapped bone rippled and healed. By the time the priestess ended the kiss, Seline had fully restored with even her clothing looking new and clean. She looked at her hands in wonder and then dropped to her knees in formal salute.
The priestess kissed each of the two healers and restored them. Seline remained bowed. At last, the priestess came back to her and said, “Stand Lady Seline. You are advanced to the Second Rite. What is your current Order?”
“Order of the Rock my lady.”
“I am Dar Niss. I am lifting you into the Order of Fire. Are you familiar with this order?” Seline nodded. The priestess turned and asked, “Is anyone else here in the Order of Fire? Any of the elemental orders?” A young man stood. Dar Niss looked at the symbol on his cloak and said, “The Order of Earth. Very good. I expect to see you shortly.” She turned and swept the class with her eyes. “There are four elemental orders in the knighthood. Fire is the second most powerful. Acceptance into an elemental order is the prerequisite for advancement into the most elite of all the orders. Unless you each own your training and take a more active part down here, you will stay where you are. The classroom is a poor substitute for knighthood. There is no “classhood of knights”. Come Lady Seline of the Order of Fire. Be joined by your two healers. Follow me.”
Malcor's Story Page 24