“However, if the wound is too severe the stone can do little to help the wounded. It would require much more energy than you could supply to it. The stone will drain your energy much faster than if you were healing a wound by yourself, but it eliminates the need for you to understand how to heal.”
Traven pulled out the deep orange might stone and concentrated on it. Time stopped and the air thickened. He could readily see certain types of particles swirling around the stone. He guided them into the stone and watched as the stone let off light. The light began to change to white as he fed more energy into it. He stopped as he felt his strength being drained. The stone glowed for a few moments and then returned to its normal state. It seemed simple enough. He smiled and returned the stone to his pocket.
“That is all I have for now,” Eldridge said. “I think you should finish preparing for the journey, and then we will have an early lunch before bidding you farewell.”
Traven returned to his room with Studell tagging along and offering advice. Studell made him promise to deliver a message to the king about what they had found. He also made him promise to be careful so that he could return, continue his training, and tell him of his adventures. Most of all, he must not get killed. Traven readily agreed. Studell then bid him a safe journey and left for the library.
After Traven finished gathering everything he was taking with him, he paused to look around the room. It was hard for him to believe that he had only been here for less than two weeks. Although the room still seemed too fancy and spacious for him, it somehow felt more like home than anywhere he had been since leaving his grandparents’ house. He smiled at the room, hoping he would be able to return to it soon. He took one last look at the large comfortable bed and left. He knew for sure he would be missing it while he spent the next month or so sleeping on the ground.
When he arrived in the dining hall, he was surprised to find Eldridge already there along with seven of the guardians. Glancing at them, he realized that Darian was the only one missing. They all rose when he entered the room.
“We all wanted to be here to thank you and honor you for restoring the energy stone,” Eldridge said. “We wish you a speedy journey, success in your endeavors, and hope you will return to the keep soon.”
Traven was surprised by all of the ceremony. He had been there less than two weeks and hadn’t done much for those at the keep at all. They had been taking care of him. He felt like he needed to give thanks to all of them. He thought for a moment and spoke to all in the dining hall.
“I would like to thank all of you for your hospitality and support,” he said. “In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve come to feel like this is somewhere I belong. I hope to be able to return soon.” All of the guardians smiled, and Eldridge nodded his head, seeming satisfied.
“Now let us eat,” the ancient keeper said. “The sooner Traven leaves, the sooner he can return.”
Traven sat down next to the keeper and joined the others in eating an early lunch. He was hungry after working the ambience earlier in the day and was glad for the meal. He ate his serving quickly and sat quietly waiting for the others to finish.
“Go ahead and eat Darian’s meal,” Jorb said as he pushed a full plate of food towards Traven. “He won’t come down for some reason.”
Traven wasn’t sure if he should eat the elf’s meal, but after assurances from several of the guardians that it was fine, he decided he might as well satisfy his hunger if Darian wasn’t going to join them. He wondered if the elf was refusing to be present because he still held something against him. He felt bad if he had somehow offended the elf but tried not to worry. He finished his second helping and sat back contentedly.
“I think it’s time for you to set off,” Eldridge said as he stood up from the table. The guardians said their goodbyes to Traven and left for their various chores.
“Who will be coming with me?” Traven asked as he accompanied the keeper out of the dining hall.
“Jorb and Ethan volunteered to go with you,” Eldridge replied. “They went to get the horses and supplies.”
Traven was happy to hear that it was two of the guardians that he actually knew. The trip would be more enjoyable with the two of them. It would also be nice to travel with two others who were skilled with weapons. He didn’t expect to run into any problems along the way but was glad for the two guardians’ expertise just in case.
He waited patiently with Eldridge for the two guardians to bring the horses. He looked up at the clear blue sky and took a deep breath of the sweetly scented air. There was something undeniably special about this hidden valley. He truly hoped that he would be able to return soon.
“I cannot believe you did it,” someone muttered from inside the keep. “You’re really going to go through with this?”
“Where is your honor?” another voice asked tauntingly.
“You disgust me,” a third voice stated vehemently.
Traven and the keeper turned around and peered through the open door of the keep, wondering what was going on. At the top of the stairs, a cloaked figure with his hood up began to descend. He had a pack slung over his shoulder and he walked with purpose. Flanking him were three elven guardians. They all kept shaking their heads and expressing their surprise, horror, and disgust. It wasn’t until the cloaked figure reached the bottom of the stairs that Traven realized it was Darian. He wondered what the elf had done to warrant all of the attention and derision.
He watched with interest as Darian left the keep and walked directly towards him. The other elves all stopped at the door. He stared with surprise as Darian walked right up to him and knelt at his feet. The elf threw back his hood and stared intently at him with burning eyes. The black slash of a tattoo over his left eye had been altered. Drawn delicately within the black were patterns of metallic silver that matched the patterns on Traven’s own clothes. A gasp escaped from Eldridge.
“Master Wielder Traven,” Darian began in a firm voice from his kneeling position. “I devote my life to you. I will live, fight, and die for you. I am yours to command.”
Traven stared back at him in complete shock. What was Darian doing? He had no idea how to respond. He didn’t understand what the elf was saying. Eldridge cleared his throat and leaned over to whisper into Traven’s ear.
“The correct response is ‘I accept your devotion’,” he said quietly.
Traven wasn’t sure if he wanted to say that or not. It made him feel awkward and uncomfortable. However, seeing the way that Darian was staring up at him, he decided that he should follow the keeper’s advice.
“I accept your devotion,” Traven repeated, still feeling uncomfortable. A wave of relief washed over Darian’s face upon hearing the words. The elf rose to his feet, and after bowing to him, walked towards the stables.
Traven glanced at the other elves. All three gave him calculating looks before turning and walking back into the keep. He then turned with a questioning look to Eldridge.
“It is called the devotion,” the keeper said quietly. “I never thought I would see it happen. I am especially surprised that it was Darian. I never would have expected him to chain himself to a human.”
“What do you mean chain himself?” Traven asked worriedly.
“Not literally,” Eldridge replied. He then took on a lecturing tone. “When an elf feels the devotion to a wielder, he makes an oath to do whatever the wielder asks of him. Elves are incredibly loyal to their oaths. They would rather die than break them. Darian will now do anything you ask of him, even if he doesn’t agree with it. He would jump off a cliff if you told him to.” The keeper paused and stared intently at Traven, making sure he understood what was being said. “Before the Wielder Wars, many of the elves performed the devotion ceremony and followed the more powerful wielders. For the last thousand years no elf has chosen to devote himself to a wielder, until now. Consider yourself honored.”
20
Kadrak finished his nighttime ascent up the gradual slope
of the foothills. His army was camped outside of Beking and ready to march for the Pass of Banshi in the morning. He had climbed up into the mountains to visit with Shaman Azulk one last time before continuing his campaign into Kalia. He didn’t fully trust the galdak leader and wanted to make sure that the shaman understood exactly what he wanted him to do.
Kadrak stepped up onto a shelf of rock that offered a magnificent view of the land below. He glanced at the entrance of the cave that was set back against the mountain but sensed that it was empty. He turned from the entrance and looked out over the land below. In the distance he could see the city of Beking and just outside its walls, the many campfires of his army. All of it belonged to him. The country of Balthus had fallen even easier than he’d expected. The thrill of victory had left him anxious for more. Kalia would be next. Once it had fallen, he would turn his campaign to the southern countries. He wouldn’t stop until he controlled all of the lands.
He sensed a presence nearing the mouth of the cave. Turning away from the splendid view, he looked to the entrance of the cave once again. Soon he could see the lightly glowing yellow eyes of Shaman Azulk. The elderly galdak stepped out of the cave’s shadow and approached him. His dark red skin was wrinkled and splotched, and his hunched form made him seem shorter than he really was. The shaman bowed deeply to Kadrak with the stones and skulls that dangled from his neck almost touching the ground.
“You wished to speak with me?” he said in a raspy voice as he rose from his bow.
“That is why I am here,” Kadrak replied. “Tomorrow I will lead my army to Kalia. The Kalian Army is already in place at the western mouth of the Pass of Banshi and another contingent of troops will arrive there soon. The Kalian Army is rumored to be the most disciplined of any country’s army. I expect that they will put up a decent fight.”
He paused before continuing. He still debated whether it was the right time to reveal his army of galdaks, but he also wanted to be certain that the clash with the Kalian Army would end in a resounding victory for him. He didn’t want to leave anything up to chance. He had made his decision already and would stick with it.
“I have come to make sure that your warriors are ready,” he stated. “I believe I might have need of them soon.”
“We have been ready for many years,” Shaman Azulk whispered back in almost a hiss. “If I were to call them forth now, they would be ready to fight.”
“Good,” Kadrak replied with a smile. “I require that one thousand of your warriors be hidden in the mountains at the western end of the Pass of Banshi. They are to remain there, hidden, until I call for them.”
“As you command,” the galdak said. “They can easily be in place before your human army arrives. Are you certain that you only want a thousand?”
“Yes,” he said. “Hopefully they will not be needed.” He noticed a tightening around the eyes of the shaman. “The time will come for your people, Shaman. However, the time may not be here yet. We shall see.”
“What signal should my warriors be waiting for?” the elderly galdak asked slowly.
“I will shoot three fireballs, straight up into the air. I will then create a lightning strike. Wherever the bolt strikes, that is where I want your warriors to attack. Do you understand my instructions?”
“I understand them perfectly,” Shaman Azulk replied curtly. “My warriors will be in place and waiting for your signal. Should you call them, you will not be disappointed with their skill in war.”
“Good,” Kadrak stated. Having given his instructions, he was anxious to return to camp and get some sleep. “If your warriors prove useful, perhaps the time for the galdaks to avenge their wrongs will be at hand.”
* * * * *
Shaman Azulk watched as the arrogant wielder strode away from him and began to descend the mountain. He clenched his fists tightly and tried to remain as calm as he could. His people had waited centuries to avenge themselves of the wrongs that had occurred at the hands of the humans. He would be patient. He would wait just a little longer. The time of the galdaks was swiftly approaching.
* * * * *
Kadrak swiftly descended to the lowlands and mounted his waiting horse. Every time he turned his back on the shaman, he wondered if the galdak would try and attack him. He supposed that Shaman Azulk tried to hide his distaste for him, but the elderly galdak didn’t do a good job at it. It was easy to see that the shaman had no love for him whatsoever. He wondered once again how long he should allow the old galdak to live. The shaman was dangerous but smart enough to realize that Kadrak was his superior.
He grinned as his horse trotted back towards the army’s encampment. The galdaks had already supplied him with a small fortune and now would guarantee him a victory against the Kalian Army if he needed them. As long as he could control them, they would continue to be a valuable asset. It would be interesting to see how well they would obey his orders. If the galdak warriors proved that they could follow his instructions in the coming battle, he would have many other tasks for them to fulfill.
As he rode closer to the encampment, his mind turned from thoughts of the galdaks to thoughts of his human army. Combining the rogue army with the Balthan Army had worked better than he had expected it to. Gilrod had done an excellent job in appointing experienced leaders within the ranks. There were still more skirmishes and fights between the troops than he would have liked, but overall he was pleased with the integration.
The march from Rankdra to Beking had been much better organized than the previous march in the opposite direction. He hoped that things would continue to run smoothly. The army had a long way to march before they would reach their ultimate destination of Calyn.
Kadrak slowed his horse as he approached the encampment. He didn’t want to have to kill any of his troops if he startled them and they accidently attacked him. As he entered the outskirts of the camp, his soldiers began to recognize him and bowed as he passed. Gilrod had suggested that he not go anywhere without an honor guard, but he had no use for one.
Everyone knew who he was. He didn’t need pageantry to announce himself, and he didn’t need any protection besides his own mastery of the ambience. When his people saw a tall, striking man with blond flowing hair, they knew who they were looking at. He would also often use the ambience to create a slight glow around himself at night. His soldiers could then easily see the power he possessed emanating from him. It affectively inspired awe amongst all who saw him.
He proceeded through the camp towards his tent as his soldiers continued to bow and show proper respect at his passing. As a child he had been small and skinny. Many of those in his village at the southern reaches of Balthus had called him runt. No one would even consider calling him that now. When he had finally hit his growth spurt, long after the other boys his age, he had grown to be taller than most. He had worked hard on his parents’ pitiful farm and had soon grown strong as well.
He then had paid every last one of the boys back for their teasing, taunting, and bullying of him. He smiled at the memory. Back then he had used the only two weapons he had, his fists. The boys of his village had steered clear of him after the beatings they had received. The following summer he had begun to realize that something was different about him. Soon he had begun to experiment with the power that lay inside of him.
His parents hadn’t been pleased when he had showed them the tricks he could do. They were a superstitious lot and had banned him from using any of his magic. His father soon thereafter had caught him practicing making fire. He still remembered the look of anger on his father’s face as he had thrown him out of the house and assured him that he would never be welcomed back.
Kadrak had made sure that no one would be welcomed back. Once his parents had left for the market the next day, he had snuck back into the house, gathered the supplies he would need for a journey, and set the place on fire. He had not looked back as he headed north with his childhood home burning to the ground behind him.
He wasn’t sure
what his parents had done after returning home to find their house destroyed. He had never worried or felt bad about it. They had gotten what they deserved. He had loved them and worked hard for them his entire childhood. How had he been repaid? He had been cast out.
He wouldn’t repeat the same type of injustice against his followers that his parents had committed against him. Those who opposed him would be dealt with harshly, but those who respected and followed him would prosper under his rule. He would have plenty of power to share with those who were loyal to him. He would reward them generously.
Kadrak arrived at his large tent and brushed past the two guards standing at either side of the entrance. He had considered staying at the small palace in Beking for the night but had decided against it. When leading an army, his place was with the army, in the midst of his troops. He wanted his soldiers to know that he would be fighting with them.
He prepared for sleep and lay down on his soft bed. Although he would be sleeping in the midst of his troops, he wouldn’t be sleeping on the ground like them. He needed to sleep well if he wanted to wield the ambience with as much strength as possible. He would go without certain things on the campaign into Kalia, but he felt no need to deprive himself of all luxuries. He had a nice bed, a sturdy desk, a skilled chef, and a special stock of his favorite foods.
A master wielder such as himself should be able to enjoy life no matter where he was. The long days of riding would be tempered by the small luxuries that he allowed himself. He closed his eyes and relaxed.
It would take nine days to reach the eastern edge of the Pass of Banshi. They would then march through the high pass in the mountains for five days until they reached the other end. There was currently still some snow in the pass, but he hoped it would all be melted by the time the army reached it. In fourteen days time, the Kalian Army would face the wrath of the Master Wielder Kadrak.
Wielder's Rising Page 19