by N. Saraven
She sounded furious, yet utterly restrained. She stopped only for a short moment.
“But … I am not afraid, or too proud to admit, that I need help defeating Indrek and his minions. So every one of you who would like to join me can tomorrow.”
Stunned silence swallowed the garden, which made the air so cold, ice seemed hot.
“I will not deny that IF somebody will join me, it means war. Varomor, with only me or with others, will raise an army and face Indrek. We will not stop until that … man pays for his wrongdoings to us with his death!” Neila’s commanding voice completely captured her audience. “However, I do not want anybody to risk their lives for something they don’t believe in. So, if somebody would rather leave, they can, freely, without any ill thoughts. They can leave Varomor, and nobody will think less of them. I only ask that tomorrow morning only those shall remain here who are ready to pledge their lives to this cause.”
Neila fell silent for a moment, regarding everyone who gathered there.
“Well, this is all that I have to say. I ask everybody not to take this decision lightly. From the ones who decide to stay, I demand utter obedience and loyalty. Otherwise we cannot bring justice to Indrek. I now thank you all for coming and hearing me. We’ll see each other tomorrow morning after breakfast.”
The Master stepped down from the bench and returned to her room.
For a few moments after her departure, all who gathered there just stood in their place, completely frozen. They could hardly comprehend what they heard. When it had somewhat sunk in, everybody burst into excited chatter. If somebody did not hear clearly what she said, another now explained it to them. The air was filled with baffled questions, disbelieved snorts, or stunned silences.
The companions too, could not do anything but blink for several moments. Even when everybody else started to discuss the situation amongst themselves, they just stared at each other, puzzled. Then they started to draw attention, as some tried to understand their position in the matter.
The situation slowly escalated without control. Before it could really get out of hand, Veilon stepped forwards. He asked everybody to remain calm and obey the Master’s wish about thinking through this thoroughly. So they all should just go and continue doing whatever they want, or need. Have dinner, then get some rest in their rooms.
When the crowd started to break up, the companions turned to each other.
“What … where did this come from?” asked Agony quietly as he glanced at a small group passing by. They eyed them questioningly, obviously wanting to ask what they knew about the situation.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, but maybe we should discuss this somewhere else …” suggested Rita, when all the looks started to get to her.
“Agreed.” Veilon nodded, and with a few words, they all found themselves in the girls’ room. All but one, as it turned out—Enargit stayed in the garden. He probably tried to regain order amidst the shadows and maybe to convince some of them not to choose war only to ‘try it out’ …
Agony sat down on Kira’s bed. Talek and Rita occupied the other one across from them, while Veilon leaned against the table at the window.
Rita broke the momentary silence.
“Soooo … what shall we do next?”
“I would start with asking Neila where this whole craziness came from.” Agony looked at the Ruler, who shrugged.
“It would be completely useless to do so. Most probably I wouldn’t be able to get in to her room now.”
“For once …” muttered Talek sharply, with what he earned the mage’s angry look.
“I ask again … WHAT SHALL WE DO?” snapped Rita, who seemingly had had more than enough of the bickering.
“I don’t know.” Veilon sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He truly seemed exhausted and confused as never before, which made a chill run down the friends’ spines.
Nobody liked to admit it, but the thought that at least one of them knew what was going on, or what they must do, somehow made them feel safe. Even if this person was who he was … Maybe they did not like the results, or how it was done, yet everything seemed to stay under control.
At the moment, however, even that person seemed just as lost as they, which meant nothing but bad. They had no idea what might come, or how they could stop it. They worried about everybody, mostly for Neila.
“There’s nothing to think about. We need to stay with Neila,” announced Talek, as if it were a fact nobody could deny.
“This is all very lovely, but do you know what you’ll take upon yourself?” asked the paragon with such a tone that it made the soldier freeze.
“Maybe now is the perfect time to remember your word and be a team player,” rumbled Agony grimly. “What exactly will we take on?”
Veilon looked at him, obviously measuring his options. He could deny the actual answer; everybody knew that. Yet he seemed to decide to tell the truth. He did give his word, so now he must do as he promised.
The kobold answered gloomily, as if he would deflect if he could.
“Where shall I begin …? You all remember the end of the Dragonwars, when Neila made a little show?”
“Yes, both times, in both wars.” Agony recalled the memories. But after this start he seemed unsure whether he wanted to know where this headed.
“Well, if you can, try to imagine that her powers are much, much stronger now. At least double, but I’m guessing more, and it grows even as we speak. Enargit mentioned that her powers come from Setal himself. But as far as I can tell, the God put barriers in her, which broke when they last met. So imagine an almost godlike-powered mage who loses control, letting those powers go on a rampage. Without … any … chance … for control.”
The paragon looked around at the others’ horrified expressions.
“Yes …?” whispered Rita, quivery.
“Now imagine that in the middle of all this stands you.”
“No, thank you!” moaned the girl and buried her face into her hands. The mage only nodded, as if he understood the struggle within her.
“THIS is what you take on, if you stay,” finished the mage softly. Even he seemed terribly grim.
Silence fell on the room. Stunned, heavy silence.
“So, where shall we begin?” asked Agony, bringing everybody back to the present.
Veilon glanced at him inquiringly. He never thought that the friends would actually choose this path. He hoped, but could never know. This, however, filled him with hope—that he must not face this alone, even if those would be his companions who would be.
A moan drew his attention, so he turned to Rita, who fell back on her bed. She obviously became upset, as did all of them, yet she also seemed to be relentless. Certainty shone in her eyes, as if she would never back down just because something was dangerous. Even if it was so dangerous.
“This is all fine and dandy, but what can we do to prevent this from happening?” asked Agony, reminding them about the many, many plans they drew up before.
Veilon only shrugged.
“We need to wait for everybody to decide. We must know where the others stand. Otherwise we cannot move forwards.”
With this, he considered the matter finished, so he stood up and left the room. He needed to rest as much as he could, which became more and more difficult these days. He even got a strong tea from the kitchen, which helped him to sleep and relax. He truly wanted to have a silent night, instead of wiggling around worried and awake.
Yet he could hardly elude the extreme tension which occupied the Tower since Neila’s announcement. Beside the dark mage, almost nobody could say the next morning that they had a good night’s sleep. Most of the inhabitants struggled with their swirling emotions, looking at the choices they had.
Nobody took the decision lightly. Everybody was aware of the fact that this was something they had to work out for themselves. Nobody could let themselves be swayed by anybody, not even by their best friend, if they had such a person.
Ju
st because others decided to stay, it did not mean that they should.
It was an extraordinary opportunity, IF one was musing on leaving Varomor. In normal circumstances, choosing a caste was a permanent decision, meaning that they could only leave it with such a bad reputation that no other school would ever consider overlooking. These things could not be kept a secret, no matter how hard one tried.
However, this situation was different and so unique that no honest Master could just assume that everybody would follow blindly. Nobody could demand loyalty in such a way.
Neither did Neila. She offered a choice, as honour demanded.
On the other hand, if somebody decided to stay, from that moment they belonged utterly and inevitably to Neila. There were no roads backwards, just forwards, on which only Death could bring freedom from this bond. From that moment, one law existed—Neila’s word. She became the Ultimate Ruler, whose orders were absolute. Whom nobody could ever oppose again. At least, not one who was ‘only an apprentice’, like most of them.
Furthermore, this meant that whatever relations or bonds they might have with the outside worlds were to be terminated, effective immediately. Normally they would not have to do this, although most who joined Varomor had no bridges to burn behind them because they already struck the fire-steel. They still could choose to leave the caste, which every one of them could survive, if they had a strong enough personality.
On the other hand, if they stayed in this situation, this grim choice would disappear, leaving no way for turning back.
As dawn closed upon the Tower, tension began to thicken in the air, almost becoming alive. When breakfast came, most could hardly eat. Some forced down their meals; others only drank some tea or not even that. But whatever they decided to do, they did it in complete silence. Nobody talked or whispered. Not even a peep could be heard anywhere. Friends stayed apart as they waited for the Master to appear. Even the shadow dragons were silent; they crouched patiently in the garden.
When the time came, everybody gathered the same way as yesterday. Fear and worry, mixed with endless tension, filled the air, which grew even stronger when the companions arrived. Eryn placed the bench before the door again for the Master, who arrived shortly after.
Yet this time it was not the Sunleader, who led armies to victory all those circles ago, who stood before them. Nor was it the Master, who always had her strict rules, although she was understanding, and who always tried to lead her students in the right way when they got stuck.
This time, it was the Warrior.
The Commander, whose words became absolute, demanding infinite loyalty. Whose gaze nobody could stand, and whose decisions were considered rules, which she made sure everybody followed to the letter.
“I welcome you again in this beautiful morning!” Neila started with a strong, booming voice. She glanced around, but everybody dropped their gazes when those unbreakable golden eyes fell on them. “I hope you all made your decision. I now ask anybody who will NOT stay in Varomor to leave. Now! I repeat, nobody should make them feel less about themselves, or even think ill of them. If one does, they have to face me.”
Neila looked around firmly. Nobody gave even a slightly louder sigh.
“Please, anyone who wants to leave, do so,” she repeated, then stepped down from the bench.
She closed her eyes as she faced the warm sunlight. She did not want to make anybody feel obligated to stay, just because she watched. Not that she would doubt the others, yet she did not want a weak link.
As she waited, enjoying the warmth of the Sun, she heard the whooshing sound of wings as the dragons flew away. She thought before that she might get upset about it, but when it happened, she stayed remarkably calm.
Neila honestly did not care how many stayed, if any.
When silence fell on the garden, she looked up again. Her gaze showed true astonishment as she glanced around. She stepped on the bench.
“I thank you all, truly and honestly, for staying and agreeing with me. I cannot say what this means to me …” Her voice broke.
“Master, if I may.” Eryn stepped forwards. Neila nodded, so the wraith continued. But before he spoke, he quickly glanced at the remaining apprentices and mages—all of them.
“I think I can speak for anybody when I say: we will stand beside you, Master, whatever the future may hold for us. You may never doubt our loyalty, ever!” He bowed deeply as a respect, a sign which every single one of them followed. Even the staying dragons lowered their heads.
Neila looked around, deeply touched by all of this. Yet her gaze became firm, her features hardened.
“Thank you, and I will never let you down. You can always rely on me and my protection, whatever danger you may face. You will never have to do it alone. You can count on me every time you need to. I promise!”
The apprentices and dragons smiled, seemingly deeply moved.
“Now then,” she continued, “please return to your duties. Continue wherever you stopped. I will inform everybody of my plans in time. I wish you all a nice day!”
Neila flashed a smile, then stepped down. As she passed her friends, she stopped for a moment to glance at them. Then she continued to her room without a word, although she wanted to say so much. She felt extremely happy to see them stay. They almost made up for the fact that Halgor still did not show himself anywhere.
“Sooo … what about Halgor?” asked Rita after Neila left them at the door.
“I am more worried about Nighthunter,” muttered Enargit as they also started for their rooms. “I can only hope that Lexénia will bring both of them back safe and sound as soon as possible. But I need to leave you know. My dragons need me to find them a safe place.”
So the Leader left the companions behind. All of them mused upon the same thing—what might change when Halgor returned? They were all sure that the elven would come back; the only thing remaining a mystery was when.
38. “Be a good little elven”
Halgor felt as if he were choking in a thick, black mist in his dream. He tried to fight against it, to get to the surface for air. However, no matter how hard he struggled, he never got closer. Some air got to his lungs, yet not nearly enough. The more he fought, the more he felt like choking.
Abruptly, something tore the mist apart, so he could emerge. He sat up in his bed as if he were stung by something, heavily panting, trying to get rid of any trace of this severely uncomfortable dream. He buried his face in one hand as he took deep breaths. But his whole body was shaking, and he felt sick. However he tried to erase the dream, it crawled back, holding his mind tight. Pictures swam before his eyes, flickering to make him pay attention to them. It seemed they wanted to be put together, reminding the elven of their meaning.
So Halgor gave in and focused on putting them in order. But somehow it was difficult to do, as if the memories decided to behave as troublesome as they could. They hid, ran away from his mind, shattered in the last minute, and so on, making the mage’s job almost impossible.
Regardless, something whispered that he should not give up.
He could remember what happened in the girls’ room, when Veilon explained what he knew about this whole situation with Neila. Then Enargit’s arrival meant the finishing incisions in the wax.
It really seemed that Neila could lose control of herself, of her powers in any moment. So the friends thought they should watch her all the time, which gave the perfect opportunity for him to actually do something. Halgor volunteered for the job, of course, mostly because it could be the last chance for him to win her back. He had faced his fears and knew what he must do next.
However, he never actually reached Neila’s room.
Halgor frowned as he recalled stepping out from the girls’ dorm, then climbing the steps upstairs. Then …
The elven shook his head.
Then something incredibly dark covered him, as if somebody dropped a black cloth on him. He trembled again as he remembered that moment. It felt terrible and s
cary, even for him. Then he glanced around in his room, not having any idea how he got back.
He tried further to recall the happenings.
The horrible darkness covered his mind and his body, making them feel … foggy … as if somebody would submerge him in that pitch-black water for real.
Halgor shook his head. His sick feeling strengthened as he remembered. The whole experience reminded him of Death and mortality.
When he finally came around from that unknown something, he could remember a place. Not in details, he had a sensation that it was not important. Only one thing caught his attention in that landscape—a completely black fountain. Its every stone, or drop, was made from something pitch-black. It was very uncomfortable to look into that water, but he had to, although he could not remember why. Something still clouded his mind, not letting this information through.
“Well now … was our little meeting so stressful? Let me help then,” he heard a deep woman’s voice in his head say, which made sweat break out all over his body. Suddenly all of his suppressed memories erupted to the surface, flooding his mind completely.
Halgor moaned in dismay and fell back to the pillow. Incredible pain and bitterness washed over him, which almost seemed too much to bear. Before they could swallow him completely, the elven started to soothe himself down, making his mind clear, his feelings calm. When he somewhat succeeded, he went over the memories again.
He could recall exactly how lost he felt when he looked around in the strange place. He had no idea where he was or how he got there, not to mention the ‘why’. But then a deep-black smoke started to billow beside the fountain, which made Halgor turn to it. A few moments later Lexénia emerged from the mist, gorgeous as ever.
He only met once with the Goddess, who now strolled to the fountain. She looked tall, majestic, and magnificent. Even in his eyes, she could be the most beautiful woman ever, if there was not something … different about her. Something that made a chill run down his spine and allowed Fear to close up on him.
Halgor tried to look steady as he watched the Goddess’ smile. He knew that he was her Chosen One, although what that meant, nobody knew. He never talked or met with Lexénia since the end of the Dragonwars. She had never asked for anything, nor appeared in his dreams. Nobody from the Four had ever had anything to do with him during the time since, which made the mage doubt their seriousness. But now a sick feeling overcame him that maybe he had judged too soon.