Wielder's Awakening

by T. B. Christensen

  “I bet you are quite hungry, no?” she said politely with smooth words.

  Traven nodded slowly in the affirmative with a grin. He gathered his strength and pushed himself back up and into a sitting position. The maidservant immediately adjusted his pillow so that he could rest back against it and save his strength. She then laid the platter on his lap and pulled off the dome cover, revealing the source of the wonderful smells. There were several fresh rolls, a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, and a cup of hot cider. Traven eagerly dug into the meal as the amused maidservant watched. With every bite, he could feel a little of his strength returning. The food was delicious; the best he had ever tasted. He was amazed, however, when he began to feel full. He had not thought the small meal would be enough to even begin to quell his hunger. In the end, he left a small amount of soup and one of the rolls because he could not eat anymore.

  “Do not worry, young master,” the maidservant said as she gathered up the platter and readjusted his pillow so that he could lie back down. “I will be back in a couple of hours with more food. You will be hungry by then.”

  “I don’t think so,” Traven replied with one hand over his stomach.

  “You will be hungry. Trust me. Your stomach is just small, because you have not eaten for over three days. It will stretch back out.”

  He stared after the maidservant as she left the room. Three days! He had been sleeping for three days! He struggled to comprehend what had happened but for some reason couldn’t remember. Frustrated, he closed his eyes. At least wherever he was he was being treated like royalty. Royalty? The Princess! Everything came back in a rush; the capture, an escape, battle, the Princess in danger, and then immense pain. Traven slipped back into unconsciousness with the weight of the memory slamming back into him.

  “Traven, Traven.”

  He slowly began to regain consciousness once again at the sound of his name. Opening his eyes, he found Blaize standing at the foot of his bed with a large grin on his face.

  “You’ve slept enough. You can’t sleep forever!”

  Behind Blaize stood the maidservant with another platter of food. She brushed past him and helped Traven sit up. Traven was surprised to discover that in fact he was starving once again. He eagerly ate another helping of the delicious vegetable soup and several more rolls.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked Blaize between mouthfuls.

  “I just happened to be around and decided to see how you were doing.”

  “That is not true,” the maidservant said. “He has been stopping by to check on you several times every day.”

  Traven ate with amusement as Blaize playfully denied the maidservant’s allegations with mocked amazement. Looking back down at the platter, he realized that it was already empty.

  “I will bring you a larger dinner later,” the maidservant said as she carried away the empty platter. “Do not tire him too much, General.”

  Blaize chuckled as the door closed behind her.

  “I’m glad to see that you are finally awake. How are you feeling?”

  “My chest and leg are sore, but other than that I just feel weak,” Traven replied.

  “You looked like you had taken quite a beating when I reached you in the cave,” Blaize said. “In fact, at first I thought you were dead. You came extremely close to dying. You are lucky to still be alive.”

  “But what happened?” Traven asked.

  “I was hoping that you could tell me,” Blaize replied. “On our way out of the marsh, the Princess kept mumbling about a giant snake and then how it disappeared. She said that when she turned around, she found you lying there almost dead. At first I thought she was still a little delirious, but as I got more details out of her, I had to believe her. I was hoping that you would be able to fill in the rest.”

  Traven remembered the giant serpent; it hadn’t been a dream if the Princess had seen it too. He tried as hard as he could to remember what had happened. He had fought off their attackers at the entrance to the cave. He had then heard the Princess screaming and had hurried to her rescue. When he reached her, it was too late, and he was out of strength. He remembered struggling for the power to save her and reaching out. There his memory failed him. Something horrific had happened, but he couldn’t remember what it was no matter how hard he tried.

  “I think it had something to do with that stone you always wore around your neck,” Blaize said. “You know it wasn’t the first time that I had treated burns on your chest.”

  Traven reached his hand up to grab his stone and was startled to find it missing.

  “Where is it?” Traven asked immediately, looking around the room.

  “It’s gone,” Blaize replied very seriously. “It lay shattered in a thousand pieces across the cave floor when I found you. I don’t know what happened or how it happened, but somehow the stone must have exploded. Several shards were embedded in your chest, so it must have happened while you were still wearing it. The stone is no more. I think it’s for the best.”

  Traven shook his head in disbelief. How could it be true? How was it possible for the stone to explode? He knew that the stone had been a might stone. Philosopher Studell had said that the stones were indestructible. Traven had no idea what could have broken something that was unbreakable. He wondered what it all meant. At least now that the stone was gone he would no longer have to worry about it burning him. He had never been able to bring himself to get rid of it, but now that it was gone, he felt a sort of relief. He somehow felt liberated and more alive.

  “I think it’s for the best too,” Traven finally said.

  There was a quick knock at the door before it was flung open. In came Philosopher Studell. In his arms was a beautifully ornamented golden chest. Behind the philosopher, the Princess entered the room hand in hand with her soon to be husband. She was the epitome of beauty. She must have fared much better than he. She didn’t appear to be injured or even tired. Her beautiful smile graced her face. Traven’s surroundings vanished as he stared back into her shining eyes.

  “I am so glad to see that you have awakened, Traven,” the Princess said. “How do you feel?”

  “I’m all right,” Traven replied. “I’m glad to see that you’re once again safe, my Princess.”

  “I am safe on account of you,” the Princess said. “I want to thank you for saving my life. I do not know how you did it, but I know if it were not for you I would be dead.” Traven felt his face flush at the praise from the Princess.

  “We are in your debt,” Commander General Gavin added. “The High King also sends his gratitude. You are welcome here in the palace until you are fully recovered. The High King also offers you several gifts to show his gratitude. This golden chest is yours along with these.”

  The Commander General clapped his hands, and a servant entered the room with a large bundle. The bundle contained new boots, a new cloak, and several sets of the black clothes with silver embroidery that he so often had worn. Traven was speechless. The servant placed the new items of clothing in a large oak wardrobe where his sword and old boots lay.

  “If you need anything else, clap for assistance.”

  With one last special smile from the Princess, she and her suitor left.

  “Not bad,” Blaize said after they left. “You could sell that chest for a handsome sum of money.”

  “You cannot sell this chest,” Philosopher Studell piped in. “It is not just some chest. It is a relic from the age of the wielders!” Traven smiled at the philosopher’s excitement.

  “Where did it come from?” Traven asked.

  “It was in the cave where General Blaize found you and the Princess. It is covered in the old symbols. I deciphered them. They say that it contains a treasure only worthy of a wielder. We cannot figure out how to get it open.” Traven stared at the chest as the philosopher began to mumble under his breath and crinkle his forehead, apparently deep in thought.

  “Can I see it?” Traven asked, interrupting Studell�
�s thoughts.

  “Of course you can, boy. It is yours. Yes, it is yours.”

  Traven stared at the ornate chest as the philosopher set it down in front of him. He could not believe that the High King had given it to him! He placed his hands on the cool surface and tried to pull up the top. It did not even budge. As far as he could see there was no lock. Blaize shrugged his shoulders. Traven studied the chest harder, looking for some type of latch hidden amongst the designs. He saw none but suddenly a strange feeling came over him. He could some how sense that the latch was on the inside. He concentrated on the point where he felt the latch was. Suddenly there was a loud click.

  “What was that?” the philosopher shouted. “I heard something. What did you do?”

  Traven sat back in surprise as the philosopher yanked the chest from his hands and threw back the lid. Traven’s eyes widened with amazement.

  “You did it!” Studell exclaimed as he began to rummage through the contents of the chest.

  Blaize looked at Traven strangely before stepping over to the philosopher’s side. Traven was not sure what had happened but was eager to see what was in the chest. The excitement, however, was tiring him out.

  “What’s in it?” he asked.

  “This is amazing,” the philosopher said as he turned to Traven. “You will not believe what is in here.”

  The philosopher then returned to staring inside the chest. Blaize burst out laughing at the look on Traven’s face. He grabbed the chest from the philosopher and emptied its contents on the bed for Traven to see. Out tumbled two stones, pieces of jewelry, and an ancient scroll. Traven stared at the stones as the philosopher snatched up the scroll and began reading it. One of the stones was green with yellow streaks that were actually moving back and forth across its face. The second stone was a deep orange that was glowing faintly. Traven was sure that they were might stones.

  “It cannot be true,” the philosopher suddenly screamed in glee. “It cannot be true! I cannot believe it. Do you know what this is?” he said pointing to the opened scroll.

  “What?” Traven asked excitedly.

  “It is a map with instructions. It leads to an ancient keep. It states that whoever opens the chest must go there.”

  “What?” Traven asked once again.

  The philosopher suddenly became very serious as he looked directly into Traven’s eyes. He raised his finger and pointed at him.

  “You must go to Faldor’s Keep!”

  * * * * *

  Traven watched the commotion in the Grand Square from the open window of his room in the palace. The square was full of citizens waiting for the procession to begin. He had been invited to go down to the front of the palace but had decided that he would have a better view from his room. He was wearing one of his new sets of black clothes. The material was even finer than the original outfit his grandparent’s had given him. At his side hung his sword. He almost felt like a noble staring out of the palace window. It was a pity that he would be leaving the comforts of the palace soon.

  The anxious crowd grew quiet, and Traven turned his attention to the procession that was beginning to leave the palace walls. Commander General Gavin and the High Princess Kalista rode side by side at the head of the column right behind the High King. He watched the Princess with sadness. The next time their paths crossed, if they ever did, she would be married. Behind them, royal guards and army officers followed. Traven watched as the High King of Kalia pronounced a speech. When he finished, the crowd erupted in cheers as the party continued out into the square. He watched the procession as it headed toward the barracks. Blaize would be waiting there with the rest of the army. The soldiers would join the procession. After the traditional ceremony the High King would return to the palace and the rest would begin their long march to Candus.

  Blaize had stopped by the night before to say good bye to Traven and wish him luck. It had been sad to part with the mighty warrior once again. Traven felt that he should be waiting to march at the barracks with Blaize and the rest of the soldiers, but fate had chosen a different path for him. He turned from watching the vanishing procession and looked to the north. His journey would take him in a different direction than the departing party. He suddenly felt a strange feeling as if someone were watching him. He stepped back from the window but the feeling remained. Traven didn’t understand how, but someone was still watching him.

  * * * * *

  Kadrak walked down the grand hall under the vaulted ceilings. On the walls, the portraits of long dead empresses stared at their new ruler. The city had fallen quickly. At first the Empress had thought she could stop him. When she discovered that her armies were powerless against his might, however, she had wisely subjected her kingdom to him. The Empress of Balthus was now one of his servants. Kadrak had spared the citizens of Rankdra and then moved into the palace. There had been minor uprisings, but his army put them down quickly. The soldiers of Balthus who remained alive were now loyal to him. The capitol of Balthus was now firmly his. Kalia was next.

  Turning down a side hall, Kadrak walked over to the door that led to the wine cellar. As he started down the steps, a flame appeared in front of him lighting the way. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he continued to the back of the cellar where a silver dish held water. Letting the flame disappear, Kadrak concentrated on the screeing dish. He needed to know if Wraith was still in Calyn. Amazingly nothing happened. He grumbled under his breath when no image appeared. Wraith must have been killed somehow. Growling, he pulled up an image of Kalia and was amazed to find that there was no longer any fog.

  Concentrating, he focused on a pin prick of light in Calyn. As Calyn grew larger, so did the point of light. At last its source could be seen. Kadrak’s eyes narrowed with anger. A young man, dressed all in black, stood uncomfortably in a small room in the royal palace. Around him blazed the glory of the ambience!

  Look for Wielder’s Rising, the second book in the Wielder Trilogy

  About the Author

  T.B. Christensen is an accountant and a dreamer in his early 30’s. He has a wonderful wife and two darling children. He grew up in the hot desert and now lives in the cold mountains. You can learn more about T.B. Christensen and his current and future books by visiting his blog at http://www.tbchristensen.blogspot.com/.