The Wars Within (Servant of Light Book 1)

by Jeremy Finn

  “You are only here of your own choosing,” he spoke softly. “Should you choose to leave at any time, you may. But search your heart and know that there is much here for you to learn. Search your heart and make your decision based on the guidance it offers you.”

  Though James knew this would not bode well for his career, he could not help but give in to the curiosity of what this place was and why these people seemed so different. He looked into his heart, and decided to go with his gut impulse.

  “I will stay,” James answered with confidence, “but I have many questions I would like answered…if you don’t mind…Intercessor.”

  “Certainly,” the Intercessor said with a smile. “In due time I will be happy to entertain all of your curiosities and questions. Now, Joe will be your guide for a time. DaNyang, I must speak with you at once in private.”

  DaNyang and Joe both muttered replies, and DaNyang left through the door on the right with the Intercessor. Joe put a hand on James’ shoulder and motioned toward the double doors.

  “Shall I show you around, old friend?” he asked with a grin. “How about we start with the training hall? You will be spending a lot of time there if you join us.”

  Though all of James’ uneasiness had left him when he gazed into the Intercessor’s eyes, that last comment of Joe’s brought some of it back to him in an instant. Were they expecting him to become a member of this odd organization?

  James followed Joe down the front stairs and across the smooth, stone courtyard to the large building that stood on the opposite side. The sun had come up over the horizon, but was still obscured by the wall of trees running along the edge of the courtyard to their left. The air still held a crisp coolness, and James’ breath formed smoky clouds of vapor before him as he walked.

  “This,” Joe announced as they reached the large front door of the building, “is the training hall of the Servants of Light. It is where we come to learn and practice many types of fighting, both of physical force and mental acuity. Most importantly, though, we study the use of the sword here. The guardians call it rhema, which I guess would be the correct name since they have possessed them much longer than us. Have you ever heard of such a thing, James?”

  “Well, not exactly,” James answered, “Though I did see some sort of flash when DaNyang attacked that thing in the restaurant. Was that one of these blades?”

  “Yes,” Joe confirmed, “I’m sure it was. Let me show you one up close.”

  Joe opened the doors and led the way into the training hall. The inside of the hall was similar in appearance to the hall of the Intercessor, but without all the decoration and silk carpeting. The floor was wooden, smoothed like a river rock by centuries of servants’ bare feet dancing across the planks in swordplay. A balcony ran along the walls of the building only a meter or so in width, with a slightly wider portion on the left side of the building. In this wider space, there were three rows of benches with a chair in front of them. All of them were, of course, constructed of wood.

  “Ah,” Joe began as he noticed James looking at the platform, “that is where the Intercessor and the counsel sit when we have a big match or something of the sort.”

  “What kind of match?” James asked.

  “Why sword sparing, of course,” Joe said as his eyes searched the room. “GiSun! Come here for a second,” he hollered to a man standing in the corner inspecting his sword.

  “Joe!” The man exclaimed in a heavy local accent. “It’s been a long time! Good to see you again, old friend.”

  “Likewise,” Joe returned as he clapped GiSun on the shoulder. “I have a friend here. His name is James and he has never really seen a rhema. Could you show him yours?”

  “Sure,” GiSun replied eagerly. “There’s not much to it James,” he said as he turned to face James and held his sword up to him with the palms of his hands facing upwards. “These are given to servants when they complete their mission. Each servant’s handle is different.”

  James looked at the handle, which was carved from a dense, light colored wood. In the center of the handle, there was an image of a leaping deer. On either side of the deer were two large flowers. All of the images were stained in a darker color, and a border of silver metal ran along the top and bottom of the handle meeting at the butt of the sword where a silver cap bore the image of a sparrow in flight worked in gold. The blade guard was small and oval. It was made of the same silver metal, but cut and worked in a design of twisted vines.

  “What is the mission?” James asked as he ran his fingers along the carved wood handle.

  GiSun seemed surprised. “You do not know? It is the journey we must take once we have chosen the path of a servant. The mission is made to test us and show us where our strengths and weaknesses lie. Once our strengths are drawn out by the mission, a sword is forged that will draw upon our strengths and compensate for our weaknesses.”

  “Wow,” James replied in genuine awe. “And what about the blade? Is it also different for every servant?”

  “No,” GiSun answered. He ran his hand along the flat top of the blade which ran straight for about a meter from hilt to tip and ended in a reverse tanto point. “All of our blades are similar. They are forged by the Guardians of Light themselves out of a substance which humans have not yet discovered and is probably not even native to this world. Now here is where it gets a little unbelievable, but you must keep an open mind. This blade can pierce darkness. No other substance is able to do this.” GiSun noticed the look of bewilderment on James’ face and cleared his throat before continuing. “What I mean by darkness is the form of a Dark Guardian. Any other blade, firearm, or weapon of any sort is useless against them. And there is one other thing you should know about these swords,” GiSun said as he took his sword in his right hand and brought it down to the left side of his waist, tip down. “They become invisible when sheathed.”

  Suddenly James gave a start as the blade disappeared before his eyes, and GiSun held his hands up empty. “Nice trick,” James mumbled as he tried to straighten out in his mind what he just saw. “But when I saw DaNyang use his, it was just a bright flash of light.”

  “Oh yes, of course,” GiSun replied. “When the owner of the sword grasps the handle and unsheathes the blade, it glows with the light of purity. It will continue to emanate light whenever its wielder slashes or thrusts.”

  At this, GiSun brought his right hand to his left waist, grasped the air there, and pulled outward in an arcing motion across his chest. James stepped back as a blinding crescent of white light shot out before GiSun.

  “Well, I think that about covers it,” GiSun said as he sheathed the glowing blade.

  “One more thing,” James added. “When I was attacked on the subway a couple nights ago, the guy who tried to kill me had something that looked like this blade, but it was slightly curved and oily black almost like liquid tar.”

  GiSun had a look of deep concern and, could it possibly be, fear on his face. Joe saw that GiSun was in a mild state of shock, and answered for him.

  “That was a dark blade, James. Certain Dark servants carry them - pretty much those possessed by Dark Guardians. They are much like our blades in many ways, but also completely the opposite. Dark guardians use the same material to make these blades, but taint them with innocent blood. When they are making the swords, the new owner must provide the blood of a human who was sacrificed to the Dark One to quench the blade. Thus, the metal is infused with evil and serves to amplify the darkness of its bearer, just as the shining blades amplify the noble strengths of their bearers. If you are ever pierced by such a blade, there will be little hope of avoiding death.”

  After a moment of silence, Joe smiled and said, “Shall I show you the training yard out back, James?”

  “Uh, yeah, I guess,” James replied unconsciously. “Thank you, GiSun.”

  “No problem,” GiSun returned politely, though he was looking at James with a bit more wariness in his eyes than he probably knew he was show
ing.

  James followed Joe to the other side of the building and out a small door leading to a large cleared area behind the training hall. There were all sorts of obstacles, training dummies and even a small mock village in the far left corner. There was a man walking slowly along the side of one of the buildings in the cluster of plywood houses. As he came near the corner of the house on his left, he dropped his right hand to his belt and drew a wooden sword straight up over his head. Then, he rounded the corner by sweeping his right foot forward and pivoting on it while bringing his left foot back behind him. This action left him facing the wall of the house on the other side of the corner, and he quickly brought his sword down in a slashing motion using only his right hand.

  “Good!” A woman in a baggy, dark red skirt and blouse shouted from the doorway of a nearby house. Her hair was silver with age, but her eyes seemed to burn with the fire of youth. “Much better than last time. But I think you could have been a little bit faster with the foot work. Watch my feet.”

  The woman demonstrated the same routine at the corner of the house where she was standing. Her rendition of the move, though, seemed much more fluid and lightning quick.

  “Ah,” said Joe, “She is one of our best teachers. She has retired to Hanasan, and works with young students to hone their swordsmanship and concentration. She even taught me a thing or two when I first came to this place. I would introduce you, but she’s not too keen on interruptions. I’ll make sure you meet her tonight at the Feast of Lights.”

  James gave Joe a courteous nod and gazed around the yard. It seemed he had so many questions to ask before, but now he couldn’t seem to remember any of them.

  “Well,” Joe said and placed a hand on James’ shoulder, “There’s one more place you need to see before I show you to your cheeb to freshen up and get some rest.”

  “I do hope it involves food.” James groaned as he finally overcame his politeness and gave in to his gnawing desire to fill his belly with something. “I mean, well, not to be rude, but it has been quite a while since I ate anything. I think that climb took a lot out of me.”

  “Oh, of course!” Joe replied as he directed James around the outside of the training hall and back to the tiled square. “I forgot to mention I’ll get some food for you when I leave you at your cheeb.”

  James smiled awkwardly and asked, “Joe, what is a cheeb? I am assuming it’s a room or something, but I haven’t heard that one before.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Joe apologized. “It is kind of a room, but not really. It’s more like a tiny cottage, but it is constructed in the traditional style. The roof is tiled and comes to points at the corners. The walls are wooden with sliding paper doors and windows, and a little porch runs along the outside. On the inside, there is a room just big enough for sleeping, a bathroom, which is basically just a hole in the floor, and an entry room that doubles as a kitchen and warming room with a coal pit in the center of the floor. All of the visitors’ cheebs are on the other side of the little bridge we came across this morning, you know, in that pine forest. There are several larger ones, though, beyond the assembly hall, which serve as dwellings for the counsel. Speaking of the counsel, that’s what this building is all about.”

  The two men had crossed the tile courtyard once again, and were standing before another large building. The sun was peeking over the roof, and the air was starting to warm gradually.

  “This third building is where the chief servants meet and hold counsel along with the Intercessor.” Joe explained as he opened the broad, ornately carved door and motioned for James to enter. “You can see the twelve small tables laid out neatly before you. These are where the twelve chief servants sit during discussions, debates, and selections. There is quite a bit more ceremony to it than I prefer, but I guess it’s been done that way forever.”

  “What kind of ceremony?” James asked.

  “Well, for one,” Joe began, “you see that smaller table on the left, in front of the rest? It is where the Intercessor sits. The table has a small slot on the right side where he slides his sword so it is standing perpendicular to the ground. This symbolizes his attention to the direction of the Light, or something. As soon as he has dropped his sword handle in there, all the chief servants lay theirs on the table in front of each of them, but they lay theirs flat with the handle facing the Intercessor’s table. By doing this, they show their deference to him, and state their willingness to look to him for direction.”

  “Makes sense, I guess.” James mumbled.

  “Maybe to you,” Joe answered with a hint of irritation in his voice, “but it’s just the tip of the iceberg on a system that seems far too ritualistic for me. There is a lot of abuse that goes on in this hall. Hunger for power and ambition can change people.”

  James was taken aback by Joe’s sudden criticism and attempted to clarify his discontent, “I know I didn’t get to spend much time with the Intercessor, but he seemed like a pretty good leader to me. I mean, he didn’t strike me as arrogant or anything despite all the formalities we had to abide by.”

  “Oh, well, he’s different,” Joe conceded. “Not everyone sees things the way he does.”

  Feeling a little uncomfortable with Joe’s change of attitude, James struggled to think of a way to change the topic, “Well, uh, how are these chief servants chosen, and what do they do besides discuss and debate?”

  Joe seemed to realize he had been rambling and cleared his throat before answering. “Sorry…they are chosen by the servants of the region. It’s a popular vote, in a way, but everyone always seems to have a good idea who it will be anyways. They are usually those strongest in the Light and wisest, which everyone seems to think means oldest. Though these days…” he trailed off for a moment, “Well, at any rate, as for what they do, well, as I mentioned they discuss and decide things, routine things such as how to care for the grounds and sometimes important things regarding our work against the Darkness. They also spend their time instructing younger servants and sponsoring new converts.”

  “What are new converts?” James asked a bit nervously. He couldn’t help but think he was expected to somehow fit into this category.

  “Guys like you,” Joe answered concisely. “Or should I say guys like DaNyang want you to be. I’m not saying DaNyang is a bad guy, but he’s a bit maniacal about bringing new people into the chosen. You do realize that’s why he has been making such an effort with you, don’t you? He thinks you will choose to be a servant.”

  “Yeah, I kind of guessed that,” James said with a small sigh. “But what about you? What do you think I should do? I mean, this all seems pretty outlandish to me right now, but there also seems to be a lot of attraction to what you guys are doing, that is, if this doesn’t all turn out to be some huge practical joke on me.”

  Joe smiled in a knowing way and answered like a parent talking to an older child. “Yes, I felt the same way you did when I first came in. I was very excited and really felt like I was going to change the world. It didn’t really all turn out that way. Not yet, at least. You’re probably better off just going back to what you have. You know we really make a good life for ourselves in our industry, my friend.”

  James began to feel a little distanced from Joe at this point. Up till now, he thought he knew his friend pretty well, but the shock of learning he was a servant unsettled him. Now, Joe was showing a pessimistic attitude. He had always been the optimist, and had pulled James out of a lot of emotional slumps before. James quickly felt like he wouldn’t mind a meal, a bath and some time alone to think.

  “Joe, I appreciate the tour,” James said gratefully, “but I’m quite tired. Would you mind showing me to that cheeb so I can get a little rest before the dinner tonight?”

  “Sure,” said Joe. “Follow me.”

  Joe led the way back across the courtyard and over the small stone bridge they crossed earlier in the morning. Once they crossed the bridge, James saw about twenty little shelters spaced about fifteen meters apart
under the canopy of pine boughs overhead. Although the sun had climbed a little more in the sky now, the pine branches interlaced overhead caused this small village to remain shady and full of shadows. Joe opened the door to one of the little cheebs and motioned for James to step inside. There was hardly even enough room inside for both of them to move about comfortably, so Joe gave him an orientation from just inside the front door.

  “This is the entry room and kitchen,” Joe began. “This small metal bowl in the floor doubles as the house heater as well as your stove, should you wish to cook something.”

  As he said this, Joe lifted a heavy, black metal lid off a hole in the floor, revealing a deep container of coals. The hot coals cast an orange glow about the room, and James could feel the warmth against his legs.

  Joe continued, “The stove is connected to metal rods running beneath the floor. This causes the floor to heat up and warms the cheeb. It’s really quite a nice way to stave off the cold since, as you can see, you will be sleeping on the floor.”

  As he said this, Joe pointed at a neatly folded pile of blankets and pillows in the left corner of the main room. There appeared to be just enough space in the cheeb to lay out the blankets and create a bed on the floor. Three windows with wooden lattice screens occupied the center of each of the walls running along the main room.

  “Oh yeah,” Joe said as he turned to the right, “Here is the bathroom. It is quite modest, but sufficient. The toilet is in the floor, and if you wish to bathe, you just use that large wooden bowl with the soap and wash cloth in it. You can fill the bowl with water from the stream and wash up right here in the bathroom. Don’t worry about the water. The floor is sloped so it will all run into the toilet.”

  James’ face showed a little concern at this last piece of instruction, and Joe suddenly realized what he was thinking.

  “Oh, right!” He remembered. “Most people just take cold baths, but I know you probably aren’t used to that. Just take that brick over there and place it in the coals with those tongs for about twenty minutes. Then, once you’ve brought the water in, drop the brick inside the bowl. It will create a lot of steam and the water won’t be so cold anymore.”