“Do what?”She asked puzzled.
“Not meeting someone’s eye when you talk to them.”Ryan said looking at the crates.
Out of the corner of his eye he caught her glance in his direction before rubbing her hands over the cover of the book.“Because, I can’t.”
“Really? You physically cannot?”
“Physically I can.”She said flustered.“But I can’t risk meeting someone’s eyes. Bad things could happen if I do.”
“Ah. Something about your magic.” Ryan replied. He barely heard her whispered affirmative.“I think,”he began softly,“that you do not give yourself enough credit. You are the master of your magic, are you not?”
Kairevasigh shook her head.“No.”her voice was a whispered sob.“I thought I was, but I’m not. I already met Kindra’s eyes and formed a link.”
“Would it surprise you to know that mages on this continent can link mentally?”
Kairevasigh resolutely shook her head.“That may be, but can they take control of another’s mind?”Ryan raised an eyebrow at that.“I can.”
“Have you? Have you taken Kindra’s mind from her? Is she little more than a puppet at the moment?”
“Well, no. But I could.”
“Of course you could.”Ryan said shrugging. Kairevasigh stared at him. He purposefully met her eyes.“But I don’t think you will.”
Kairevasigh gasped and looked hurriedly away.“Why did you meet my eyes?”
“To make a point. Did you form a link with me?”The twelve year old blinked and searched her mind for the link that could be there. She didn’t find any. Ryan settled back against the wall.“Did not find it, did you?”
“No. Did you…?”
“No, you would have felt something if I had. You see, Kairevasigh, you must intend to form a link.”
“But I didn’t intend to form a connection with Kindra!”She protested.
“Easy. Have you ever thought that maybe Kindra wanted to form a link with you? And that your magic complied?”Ryan suggested. Kairevasigh had nothing to say to that. She considered that it may be possible, but she had never heard of it being done before. Of course, considering her people’s practice of silence, that wasn’t surprising. Ryan glanced down at the book in her lap. It was in old Arathin. He read the title out loud“The Three Swords of Power? Interesting book that you have there. Where did you get it?”
“Kaizir gave it to me. I read some of it in his time.”Kairevasigh paused wondering where she should start. The talk earlier about the prophecy had reminded her of what she had read earlier. There was a legend too, but how could anyone follow her reasoning if she just dove in? It was obvious that, to many here, Arathin was a myth. And Arathin was even worse. Coming to a decision she turned to Ryan who was waiting patiently.“Have you heard of the Three Swords before?”
Ryan’s golden eyes glimmered with secrets that she couldn’t fathom.“I have.”He replied simply.
“How much do you know?”
“I know there are three. I know the oldest was made roughly three thousand years ago. The others soon after. I know that the first forged was made by Arathin, the second by Pershara, and the third by both.”Ryan glanced at the book again.“The first is known as the Sword of the Blessed, the second as the Sword of the Created, the last as the Sword of Change. What did you learn from the book?"
“That, when they were forged, what they looked like, how they chose their owners, their powers, and their other names.”
“Oh? And what about them piques your interest?”Ryan asked
“Well,”Kairevasigh replied,“the Sword of Change has another name; the Catalyst.”
Chapter Twenty-Five - A Shattering Past
“Ah.”Ryan said.
Kairevasigh mused at how such a short utterance could convey so much. He understood why she was seeking answers in the book Kaizir had given her. Hadn’t Kaizir said that she would need it? Kairevasigh continued her thought“There is a legend where I come from about the Catalyst. Some have relegated the story to myth. Even I had for a time, but not now. Not after I have seen the Sword of the Blessed.”
“Kaizir had it when you went back in time?”
“Yes.”
“What is this legend?”Ryan asked.
“I’m going to tell you how I heard it.”Kairevasigh said. Ryan nodded for her to continue as he settled himself on the shelf.“Nearly two thousand years ago, when the Empire of Sheyestiva was little more than a dream, the Varcress House knelt to the Varsrea Kings. On equal standing with the Varcress House was another known as the Silrea.
“Power had been balanced between the two houses by the king. But that does not mean that the Houses coexisted peacefully. In court, they would put themselves in positions that could help their House gain power over the other. The Nirami, or the king, was adept at keeping both Houses on a level footing."
“I hear a‘but’coming.”Ryan said.
Kairevasigh nodded. “But the king had a daughter. A young girl whose name I can’t remember. She was beloved of her father, though. The head of the Varcress House at the time was a man named Tévdova Varcress. Tévdova saw the king’s daughter as an opportunity, but also as a threat. You see, the daughter was the king’s only child and he had showed no interest in marrying after his wife had died. And he had made it clear that the girl would be the one who would choose her husband.
“Tévdova sought the king’s promise that the girl would marry one of his House. The Nirami, no matter how Tévdova pled for him to see reason, would not relent. His daughter would marry for love, not for a man’s convenience. So Tévdova did what he could for his people.
“In war the Varcress were, and are, masters. But regardless of their skill, the king had one thing they did not: a Sword of Power. The Sword of the Blessed was not something that Tévdova could face and win against. He knew this. Even if he killed the Nirami, another whom the Sword favored would stand against him.”
“Would the Sword not go to him?”Ryan asked.
“Oh no, you see, the Sword was the physical representation of Arathin magic. Its other name was the Sword of Balance, balance between the light and the darkness, balance in discipline and raw ability. It would not go to the one who had killed its chosen owner. Tévdova knew this and thus did not make his move till he found something that would equal the field.”
“Another Sword of Power.”Ryan guessed.
“Yes, the Sword of Change. You see, the Sword of Change did not care exactly who held it, only that they would enact change in the world. Tévdova led his House against the Silrea House with the Catalyst in his hand. It was a terrible war, long and violent. Thousands, if not millions, died. Eventually, a chain of mountains rose between the two forces ending the war. That mountain chain still stands, known as the Nirami’s Grave.
“As the mountains rose, Tévdova attacked the Silrea who held the Sword of the Blessed. The Silrea was no match for Tévdova, Sword of Power or no. After all, the Sword demanded balance. The Silrea was too consumed with anger and the need for revenge that the Sword weakened. On the other hand, Tévdova was focused on changing his world, thus the Catalyst became stronger. The Sword of the Blessed shattered under the Catalyst.”
Ryan whistled low.“The two that were shattered will meet their Breaker and upon that Sword’s edge will faith be tested…”He quoted in a whisper to himself. In a louder voice he continued.“So Arathin fell because of the Catalyst?”
“According to legend, yes.”
“The prophecy says two were shattered. And if the Breaker is indeed the Catalyst, how did the Catalyst get back to Pershara to break the Sword of the Created?”
“That I don’t know. The legend has several endings. One says that The Catalyst became part of the shard of the Sword of the Blessed that Tévdova received. Both then became the Nitcassa. I don’t believe this one.” At Ryan’s raised brow she explained. “It just does not feel right. Another ending is that Tévdova threw the Catalyst into the sea so no one could use it agai
nst him. The third is he gave the Sword to the dark power which had originally given it to him. Honestly, I don’t know which one is closer to the truth or even if any of them are.”
Ryan looked troubled.“A dark power, you say?”
“Yes. In Sheyestiva, the symbols of night and shadow are very important. They hide what we do from others.”Kairevasigh looked at her hands.“You see, my people are very secretive. Knowledge is power, knowledge of another’s weaknesses gives the one power over that person. Lots of horrible things are done in the darkness.
“Because of this reverence, it is believed that Tévdova found someone with control of the shadows and made a deal with them; the destruction of Arathin for the Sword. Once the Empire of Sheyestiva was established, the Catalyst was to be returned if Tévdova wanted to remain the emperor. The reverence my people have make this dealing a beautiful piece of cunning in bringing Sheyestiva above its enemy. It was a source of pride. To honor the Catalyst for helping to bring about Sheyestiva, Sheyestivans stopped forging steel blades. Instead they made them to look like the Catalyst; black blades with brass hilts.” Kairevasigh looked away. “There had always been something about that story that disturbed me. I mean, Tévdova is a hero to us, but he used deception to win. At home, deception is honorable but seeing Pershara and meeting Kaizir and hearing about God, I’m not so sure.”
Ryan’s concern deepened.“The sundering of Arathin would be something the Darkness would enjoy. It would also mean Pershara was on its own. A thousand years or so after Arathin fell, Pershara also fell.”
“What?”Kairevasigh asked staring at him. Having been so lost in her telling of the story, she had missed what Ryan had said earlier.“You alluded to that, didn’t you.? I’m sorry, I’m slow sometimes.”
Ryan shrugged.“It happens. There was a chain of wars that people today refer to as the Dragon Wars or the Fall. Man and Dragons fought against the Dark Lord Maltacken as he tried to take Pershara for himself. He was said to wield a black sword. When the King of Pershara met him in battle, the black sword shattered the Sword of the Created. You see, the Persharan Sword demanded its wielder to have complete faith in God,”Kairevasigh nodded, recalling that detail from her reading,“But the king’s had been failing due to the hopelessness of the war. He still wanted to believe, but he had doubts. His doubts festered no matter what people said to him. No matter how they warned him.”Ryan paused for a second, his golden eyes dark with some nameless emotion. He continued.“On that field of battle, much as you said about the Sword of the Blessed, the Sword of the Created was shattered beneath the black Sword.
“Have you read what the Sword of the Created had been forged from?”He asked the raptly listening Kairevasigh.
The girl nodded.“The book said that it was made of steel surrounding the essence of a willing blade master. The hilt had been made of the wood from Birch and Oak. The Birch representing new life and the Oak symbolizing nobility. The Persharan dragons had also given one of their crystals to give the sword access to the magic they had been given by God.
Ryan nodded.“When I said the sword had shattered I did not mean physically like it sounds the Arathin Sword had. The physical sword remained intact. It has remained the sword of the Persharan Kings. Raymond has it now though Thomas should rightfully have it… Anyway, it was themagical essence of the sword that shattered. The Dragon Eye crystal fled and returned to its kind, the last known dragon, Kindra.”
“Kindra?”
“Yes, the Kindra you know. As for the essence of the blade master, I don’t know. It was last seen as a streak of light that disappeared in the distance.
“I’m not sure how it happened,”Ryan continued,“but the Catalyst also disappeared. You see, despite the fact that the Dark Lord of Shadow, Maltacken, had defeated the Persharan Sword, he lost control of the body he possessed.”
“What happened to the body he possessed?”
“The body is still alive. You know him,”Ryan said cryptically. Kairevasigh raised her eyebrows at him. She even met his eyes. Ryan’s lips quirked.“No longer fear looking into my eyes, huh?”
“Quit trying to change the subject.”Kairevasigh demanded, though she did look away from Ryan.“You say I know him. Tell me.”
Grunting Ryan replied.”Robert Kimbridge.”
“What happened to the Sword?”Kairevasigh asked. She was wondering about the one Robert had. She had mistaken it as a Sheyestivan sword, was it possible that it was in fact the Sword of Change?
Ryan shrugged.“The Catalyst was said to talk, like the other two, with its wielder. The sword that Robert has said nothing and I know it had been asked of him before. Some think that it is just a magic sword, Pershara has a number of those. Such a sword in a Dark Lord’s hand would perhaps be enough to destroy a Sword of Power. But the prophecy you told us suggests that the sword that broke the Arathin Sword is the same one that broke the Persharan. If that is, indeed, the Catalyst, the question remains. Where did it go?”
The two fell silent. Ryan puzzled over everything he had ever heard. Kairevasigh was deciphering through what he had told her. The Sword of Change looked an awful lot like Robert’s, but Robert’s sword was silent. She knew this from experience, for the sword had never communicated with her, though that could have been because she was not its true wielder. Kairevasigh understood the connection between the shadows that Tévdova had returned the Catalyst to could very well be the Dark Lord of Shadows, Maltacken. The prophecy that Kaizir had told her depended upon them finding the Catalyst. But where was it? And how were they to find it? Did the Darkness still have it, or had it indeed been lost?
“Oh, my head hurts.”She groaned.
Ryan rubbed her back.“Then let it drop for now.”After a moment, he got up from the shelf.“I think that Duncan and Trevor are ready to head for Riverdale. Are you?”
Kairevasigh was nodding just as Duncan and Trevor walked in.
***
Pershara- Riverdale
SergeantT’Serol scratched his stomach as he gazed at the old stone Monastery of Riverdale. He nodded his head in thought. It was true; people didn’t build things like the monastery anymore. The simple elegance was gentle on the eyes. Especially compared to the blocky construction of the edifices the king had commissioned just outside of Tharahsa, T’Serol’s own home city. Yep, it was a shame that the monk warriors who called the Monastery home had turned against the king. From what T’Serol had seen of them, they had been gentle folk. The kind that one would dearly want to have as friends. Kind of like their home, simple in need, strong as stone, with an elegant nature that was a natural part of their baring. What one may assume to be a weakness proved to be a Monastic Knight’s strength…. But, alas, the world had decided to drift in a different direction. A direction where they had to be enemies. T’Serol was a man bound by his oaths, be they to a good king or not. But still…
The sergeantsat down on the chair just outside his tent. Now when had he become so philosophical? He was a soldier not a philosopher who gave himself jelly brains trying to figure out the‘might have been’s or an understanding of the way of the world. He was a sergeant of the King’s Guard who just happened to appreciate architecture.
What SergeantT’Serol did not appreciate were the three shadows that slipped past him and into the monastery.
Chapter Twenty-Six -The Lady and the Owl
Arathin-On the road west of Ronrend, Marlhema
It rained.
Steadily.
And life was miserable. The drizzle had started as soon as the companions left the Keep’s Inn. Blaano seemed to have sensed the coming weather. He made sure that they were outfitted well. Terana silently thanked his thoughtfulness as she snuggled further under her hood. Kadrean had informed Liam and herself that the cloaks were magicked to resist water. He also recommended that Liam wear gloves and a normal cloak underneath the spelled one. Blaano had apologized for not having any conventional water resistant cloaks. Liam had waved the apologies away. He had only chuc
kled and said that he would be warmer and thus more cozy then the rest of them.
Blaano had also seen to it that they were well fed. Terana thought wistfully back to that hardy breakfast…Eggs, ham, fresh baked bread with jam and butter, warm goats milk, and hot honeyed scones. Too bad that had been half a week ago…
The going had been slow originally, but now it was slow and depressing. Rain was great when one was inside. Fine to dance in for a short time. But it was downright trying on the open, muddy road.
Slowly, it seemed in all the monotony, the purple smudge Kadrean had named the Vermillion got nearer. Then suddenly it jumped to right before them. And before it wound another great road, or mud path thanks to the rain. Kadrean called it the Vermair. He also said that it crawled along the Vermillion mountains from Razyan’s Keep all the way to the Timeless Sea.
They made their way north along this great mud path as the day wore on. Tivieis was having a hard time with the mud, so they decided to walk alongside the road in the grass. It helped a little. Liam smiled at Terana when she looked back to see how he was doing. She blinked, for a smile was the last thing she expected to see. Seeing her confusion, Liam smiled all the more. It made her feel like he was laughing at her, which made her grimmer then the gray, drizzling clouds.
“Oh, no need to reflect the weather, Terana.”Liam told her in his dreamy voice.
“And why not?”
“It makes it darker.”He replied with another smile.
“Why are you smiling?”She finally asked.
“Because I can. Because I am alive. Because I can tromp in the rainy mud without my leg bothering me.”
Terana blinked at him, and then flushed. She hadn’t considered that his leg would have bothered him. She had forgotten that it had ever been worst off. Ashamed by her grim mood, she hung back so she could walk beside Liam and apologize. She also wanted to know if he needed any help. At which point he laughed.
The Ways of Mages: Starfire Page 22