The Wars Within (Servant of Light Book 1)

by Jeremy Finn

  “And if he doesn’t choose the Light?” DaNyang asked warily.

  “Then all the same you must keep watch over him, for it seems he could at least become a tool in the hands of the Darkness,” the Intercessor replied sullenly. “Now I must ask you to go. I have duties to attend to in the Hall of the Servants. Do you have any further questions?”

  “No,” DaNyang answered. “I will carry out this mission to the best of my ability.”

  “I know,” the Intercessor answered with a parental smile. “I trust you and I know you will not disappoint the cause of the Light. I will see you tonight at the feast. Until then, may the blessings of the Light be upon you, brother.”

  DaNyang gave a quick bow in the custom of the country and turned to exit the mysterious building. As he made his way down the steps of the Hall of the Intercessor, he saw Joe walking toward him from the direction of the guest cheebs in the pine forest.

  “Danny!” he called out and threw up his hand in a waving gesture. “I just put our guest to bed. How about a little bit of practice before our big contest tonight?”

  “Well, I’d hate to give you the advantage of learning my style,” DaNyang said with a smile, “but I suppose I could use a little warming up. No more than an hour, though, because after last night I need at least a couple hours of rest myself. I’ll meet you in the training hall in ten minutes.”

  Joe agreed to this proposal and both men went to prepare for a bout of sparring. The sun was spreading it’s warm rays across the tiled courtyard between the three main buildings of Hanasan Hold, and the air was fresh and crisp, as is typical in that region of the world in the late fall. It was going to be a beautiful day, and a day that few would forget, for more than one reason.

  THE FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS

  A light shines atop the mountain

  Heralding hope and joy for our village;

  But will its rays penetrate the cold streets below?

  Will it be but a memory tomorrow?

  -Haniang village head’s journal, 11th century

  James woke suddenly to the sound of a light rapping on the door of his little cheeb. It took him a minute to respond since he was in a very deep and restful slumber cuddled in the thick, warm blankets on the floor. His head swam as the realization of where he was and what had recently transpired began to fall together in his mind. Once he had his full senses about him, he responded to the sound.

  “Who is it?” James queried.

  “It’s DaNyang,” a familiar voice replied from beyond the sliding door. “I’m here to escort you to the festival.”

  James glanced out the window and suddenly realized just how deep and long his sleep had been. The pine forest outside his window was tinted with purples, deep blues, and grays betraying the hour just before the coming night completely extinguishes the light of the sun and the stars take control of the sky in force.

  He thought for a moment about the meeting he missed at work and how he was going to explain things to his boss, but everything here was so surreal and fascinating. He quickly pushed his worries to the back of his mind.

  “Oh,” James started, “yes, come in DaNyang. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

  The door slid open and DaNyang appeared with a broad smile that caused his slanted eyes to appear almost closed. He was wearing thick, baggy trousers and a similar blouse. Both were dark green, but had pale green edging on the cuffs and collar and fastening cords of the same hue on the waist and running up the center of the blouse. He held in his hands a neatly folded stack of grey clothes that appeared to be a similar outfit.

  “It’s good to see you had a sound rest,” DaNyang said. “I brought some clothes for you to wear to the festival. I sure hope you’re hungry, too.”

  “I certainly am,” James replied honestly. “Everyone’s been talking about the festival. Can you explain to me what it’s all about and what we are going to be doing tonight?”

  “Of course,” DaNyang said as he handed James his clothes. James began changing his clothes behind the corner of the room and DaNyang explained.

  “As you know,” he began, “the Festival of Lights is celebrated all over the world. Most people, though, see it as a festival of family and gratitude. While these are not unworthy things to celebrate, the real origin of the Festival of Lights has a much deeper meaning. After the first Dark Guardian’s army was defeated in the Great War long ago, the Servants of the Light held a week in remembrance of the blessings the Father of Lights bestowed upon them in their victory. The key figures celebrated during the festival are the guardian Mahae’el, who was sent by the Father and led the forces of light, and the Father of Lights Himself. Just like around the rest of the world, we celebrate for a week and hold the final feast on the Saturday evening at the end of the celebrated week. Unlike the rest of the world, the Servants spend the week in service to others. It is kind of a way for us to meditate on our purpose here – to serve the Light by serving others and thus bringing the Light to them. Once our service is complete, servants gather at their local hold and a grand feast is held together with brothers and sisters of the order. Many servants from all over this region have arrived over the last couple nights to join in the feast tonight. It has become a tradition that the best swordsmen in the order compete in a tournament before all the other servants. In addition to all this, it just so happens that today is the Intercessor’s seventieth birthday. So, the celebration is meant to honor him as well this year. But I see now you are dressed, and I hear the deep ringing of the summoning bell. Come, we must go at once, for I don’t want you to miss a minute of this exceptional event.”

  James followed DaNyang out the door of his cheeb and across the tiled courtyard to the Hall of the Servants. As they approached the hall, James noticed there were at least three times the number of people he saw before milling about the grounds and generally making their ways toward the great hall. Once they stepped into the doors of the hall, James halted for a moment in surprise and awe. Large, brightly painted paper lanterns the size of small couches hung from the rafters of the high ceiling. They displayed intricate images that appeared to be telling a story of battles with unheard of beasts and events he could not interpret. The light from the colorful lanterns filled the room with overlapping layers in pastel shades of color. Several long, low tables covered the floor of the hall, and servants were taking their seats on the floor in front of them. The only vacant space in the whole building was a circle about eight meters in diameter in the center of the floor.

  “Where are we sitting?” James asked.

  “I’m sitting over there in the corner,” DaNyang answered as he motioned to the right, “but you’ll be sitting up there.”

  James followed DaNyang’s gesture and realized he was referring to the elevated balcony overlooking the hall.

  “But isn’t that platform only for the Intercessor and the chief servants.” James asked.

  “Yes,” DaNyang replied, “and their guests. The Intercessor wishes you to sit with him during the festivities tonight. Don’t worry, he’s a wise and gentle man. You will have an opportunity to learn much about the Servants from him.”

  This reassurance did little to comfort James, but he followed DaNyang up the stairs to the center of the platform where a single long table stretched across the edge of the balcony and gave an excellent view of the floor below.

  “Intercessor, we come with the Light.” DaNyang greeted the aged but dignified man seated on the floor at the center of the low table. “I have brought James Huener to dine with you as you have requested.”

  “Ah, thank you DaNyang.” The Intercessor said cheerfully as he turned to face them. “You are dismissed. James, please have a seat. We are about to begin the ceremonies and the feast.”

  James nodded with a loss for words in the presence of this man who seemed both gentle and dangerous. Once he had taken his seat on a thin cushion supplied for him, he began to scan the room below looking for Joe or maybe GiSun, who he met in the
training hall that morning. Though he did not see either of them, he did notice a few other servants of his race. Most of the rest bore the marks of the indigenous race with yellow-tan tinted skin, straight black hair, and thin eyes.

  “There are foreigners in your order?” James said more as a way to open discussion than as a real question, since the answer was visually apparent.

  “Yes,” the Intercessor replied with a grin. “The Servants accept any race or nationality. It is the color of the heart which counts with us. In fact, though I and most of the chief servants are of local descent, there is one chief servant of the same nationality as you.”

  James nodded thoughtfully in reply and raked his mind for something else to discuss. Just as he was beginning to feel uncomfortable at his inability to come up with some witty point of discussion, a deep, resounding gong filled the air within the walls of the large building and interrupted the scores of conversations occurring between servants scattered about the hall. By the time the gong sounded a second time, most of the conversations ceased, and the servants were all making their ways toward one of the many long tables stretching along the floor of the hall. At the third and final gong, silence filled the room, and those who had not yet seated themselves were in the act of completing their tardy action with careful yet quick movements. Joe looked toward the Intercessor in expectation that he might explain the proceedings, but the Intercessor only returned his quizzical look with a gentle smile and rose to his feet.

  He looked silently about the hall for a moment, and then began an oration in deep, carrying tones of the native tongue. James did not remain ignorant of the message for long, however, as a voice speaking in his language suddenly whispered in his right ear from behind him.

  “I will translate for you, James,” the voice said.

  James turned his head to acknowledge the speaker and met eyes with a man of his own race dressed in the garments of a chief servant.

  “Uh, thank you,” was all James could mutter at the moment.

  “Greetings, servants of the land of contention!" he translated. "It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you yet again to the culmination of the Festival of Lights – the Dedication Feast. Many years have we held council here at Hanasan Hold, and many years have we met to celebrate the feast in good health and peace of mind. Again this year we have much to be thankful for. Let us praise the Father for His kindness and remember Him in our thanks. You will have before you tonight a banquet beyond compare, and a test of skill between your own brothers and sisters. But joy must be accompanied by memorial tonight. Let us remember those we have lost this year, and remain vigilant in the growing darkness this new year intends to bring us. We are the lone guardians of truth and light in this land, and we must not fail. Take heart in the face of the crimes the Darkness has brought upon us, and be courageous. We stand as brothers and sisters united as one. We will not fail.” A silence followed this remark, probably intended to let the gravity of the Intercessor’s words sink in. “Now, let us dine and commune in the fellowship of the Light!”

  At this invitation, doors opened in the rear of the hall and several men and women appeared with trays and bowls piled with unusual foods. James watched as they deposited the food on the tables throughout the hall. He noticed that each table had two round holes in the middle about the size of a dinner plate. In one, the attendants placed thick metal bowls full of glowing coals followed by a metal mesh dome over the top of the coals. In the other, they placed a large metal bowl which was divided into two sections by a curving wall running down the center of the bowl in an S pattern. On one side of the partition was a milky white liquid, in the other, a dark red liquid. Food came to James’ table last, which had him wondering until the Intercessor explained to him that, among servants, leaders were always served last. To them, there was a sort of honor in assuring all your subjects had sufficient sustenance before you indulged in your meal.

  Once the food arrived, however, it seemed as if there would be no end to it. Large plates and small bowls littered the long table in front of James until it seemed some of them would fall off if he even sneezed in the direction of the congested mass of plates. He noticed a bowl of finger-long rice cakes mixed with scallions and fish balls in a red pepper sauce, numerous tiny plates of pickled vegetables of various hues and consistencies, what appeared to be pork or beef pounded flat and deep fried in a crispy coating of egg and shredded tubers of some sort, bite-size cuts of raw fish piled high on a mountain of lettuce leaves with a small dish of red paste in the center, and a soup made with thick cuts of radish, mountain plants, and small, fresh water eels. There were four times as many dishes as this presented to them, but description is not necessary to explain further the luxury of the feast, the likes of which James never experienced before in his life.

  James looked down at the utensils before him. As usual in this country, he had a long spoon and two long, thin sticks. The sticks were called ga wui, and replaced the fork and knife he was more accustomed to using. He picked up the spoon and began with what seemed the safest dish, the ever-present bowl of rice, but was surprised again at the presentation of the routine dish. Usually, rice was served plain white in a small, covered bowl, but this rice had a purple tint to it and was intermingled with unusual nuts, beans, and grains that made it seem a work of contemporary art rather than the base dish for a meal. As he savored the first mouthful of mixed rice, James saw the Intercessor preparing to utilize the grill and coals before him.

  “Oh yes, James,” he said as he regarded his curious guest. “let me show you how to eat sot buel gue and sol lung jang.”

  The Intercessor reached across the table and procured a dish heaped with three kinds of raw meat. As he grabbed a slab of meat with his ga wui and placed it on the grill, he addressed James again.

  “This is sot buel gue, which is really nothing more than grilled steak, but the pear and apple marinade in this beef and the flavor of the pine coals that the meat absorbs will make this one of your favorites, I am certain.”

  Then, the Intercessor turned toward a large plate covered with a variety of foods on skewers. The foods were segregated and laid out in a pattern on the plate. They were all raw. James recognized shrimp, tofu, pork dumplings, little rice cakes, octopus tentacles and several vegetables all separately skewered on their own long sticks. There were also several other items he did not recognize.

  “This fine dish,” the Intercessor said as he picked up a shrimp on a skewer, “is sol lung jang. You rapidly cook the food of your choice in either the red pepper oil, or the more mild white broth made from boiled beef bones. Once your food is cooked to your liking, you can dip it in the peanut sauce here and enjoy.”

  James was amazed by the exotic offerings, but expressed his thanks for the opportunity to dine with the Intercessor before beginning to indulge his culinary curiosity. The meal that followed was amazing. He had been in this country for a couple months now, but never had the opportunity to go out to eat much. Most of his meals consisted of instant noodles and cereal prepared according to his humble culinary skills in his own apartment kitchen.

  After quite some time, there was a bustle of motion on the floor below, and many of the servants began to stand up and face the balcony where James was sitting. To James, this rightly seemed to signal the end of the meal. Although he was nearly full to bursting, he regretted the end of such an enjoyable adventure.

  “What are they doing?” James asked the Intercessor.

  He smiled at James in return and stood again without answering. “Friends and brothers,“ he began, “tonight we join in the fellowship of the Light and renew our dedication to serving together in the struggle against evil. As you all know, that struggle requires the keenest of skills and the sharpest of wit in many forms. As is customary, we will test the best amongst us tonight with that weapon which has served us so well as we remain the sentinels of the Light in this land. I call before you now the two who have crushed all other competition in today’s prelimin
ary matches, and earned their place in this hall as the best swordsmen of the servants of Hanasan Hold. Servants, take your marks!”

  At this command, every servant in the hall reached down in one accord and lifted as one all the tables in the hall. They quickly flowed to the borders of the large room and placed their tables against the walls, thus creating a large, open space in the center of the hall. At the same time, the doors opposite each other on each side of the hall opened, and a man issued forth from each bearing brightly colored garments similar to the one James was wearing and each grasping a bamboo training sword in his left hand, held at the waist. They wore simple helmets on their heads with a small metal guard extending over the eyes, small gauntlets on their wrists, and a leather breast plate that extended around the sides of their stomachs. As the two men slowly but stiffly made a straight line movement to the center of the room, James suddenly recognized the competitors.

  “That’s Joe!” he blurted out perhaps a bit too loudly in his surprise at seeing his friend in such an unexpected position. “And DaNyang!” he whispered almost to himself. His initial outburst met a silenced room, and brought some degree of embarrassment upon him.

  “Friend, you are very fortunate to have the acquaintance of the two best warriors in Hanasan Hold,” A voice said over James right shoulder. He turned to see who spoke to him and found the same aged man in the garb of a chief servant smiling delicately at him.

  “Oh,” James answered with hesitation, “I had no idea. What is the purpose of this competition?”

  “Well,” the chief servant began, “it is mostly a customary test of skill, but also awards the winner the title and position of chief trainer of Hanasan Hold. He will be responsible for training the servants who come here as they endeavor to learn the ways of warfare against the Darkness. Joe Senagi has held this position for five years now, and it is my guess he will continue to hold it for quite some time. Ah, but they are about to begin, let’s watch.”