The Exercise Of Vital Powers

by Ian Gregoire

  “What was your mother like, Master?”

  The instant the words left her mouth, Kayden knew she had made a mistake asking the question. The pained look upon Fay’s face made apparent she had touched upon a sore subject for her master. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly, “I didn’t mean to pry, it’s none of my business.”

  “There’s no need to apologise, Kayden,” said Fay. “The truth is, I never really knew my mother. I only met the woman twice—very briefly on both occasions—so there is little I can tell you about her.”

  Kayden picked up on the hurt, anger and regret in Fay’s tone. There was obviously more to the story than Master Fay was willing to tell, but she had no intention of digging up that part of her master’s past. What she needed to do was change the subject. She certainly had several other questions she wished to broach with Fay, though she suddenly found her thoughts drifting to another aspect of Fay’s personal life.

  “What is it, Kayden?” queried Fay, glancing at her. “You have that look telling me you’re thinking of asking a question you aren’t sure you should ask.” The words were another demonstration of Fay’s ability to read her. “Don’t be afraid to ask me anything.”

  “In that case, Master,” she said. “I was just wondering if you are a mother yourself.”

  The query seemed to catch Fay off guard.

  “No,” she replied after a brief hesitation. “Ren and I never did have any children.”

  “Can you even have kids?”

  She blurted it out before she could stop herself. If she hadn’t instantly realised how incredulous her tone made her sound, she could tell from Fay’s facial expression.

  “Why did you ask like that?” asked Fay, looking quizzically at her. “It sounds very much as though you find the idea of me having children highly improbable.”

  “I didn’t mean to suggest that, Master. It’s just that…” Kayden paused to consider her words carefully; she didn’t want to put her foot in it again. “Last night, Master Ari mentioned how old you are, and women your age can’t bear children.”

  She hoped Fay wasn’t one of those women who was sensitive about her age.

  “But, obviously, you aren’t like most women,” she added quickly, “you still have the appearance of a thirty-year-old.”

  “I believe there was a compliment in there somewhere,” Fay said in mock indignation, returning her gaze directly ahead. “But in answer to your question, I know of no reason why I cannot have children, someday.” She glanced back at Kayden inquiringly. “So, what else has Master Ari been telling you about me,” a wry smile curled her lips, “other than my old age?”

  Kayden had already decided she wasn’t going to let on that she was now aware of Fay’s infamous past. There was no obvious reason why Fay needed to know that she knew. But the question was a fortuitous one; it would allow her to bring up matters that might otherwise raise red flags if she broached them without prompting.

  “Well, for one thing, Master Ari told me the reason why you look much younger than your actual age,” she said. “He informed me of the existence of a fourth grade of Sanatsai—far fewer in number, but more powerful than the three known grades—who possess attributes and abilities not possessed by any of the others. He said both you and he are of this elite group.” She looked intently into Fay’s eyes. “Master Ari also mentioned your belief that I may also be one of these Elite Sanatsai.”

  “There is no doubt in my mind about that,” declared Fay. “But protocol dictates we cannot seek confirmation before you are inducted into the Order.”

  Kayden noted the certainty on her master’s face and in her voice. Fay was not trying to stroke her ego; she really believed what she was saying. That conviction weighed heavily on her. If true, not only had the manifestation of her Zarantar given her power that few men and women would ever wield—even among her peers few, if any, would know the burden of responsibility that being so powerful entailed.

  “If you don’t mind, Master Fay,” said Kayden, “my time in Temis Rulan, especially my experience with Master Ari last night, has left me with numerous questions about the extent of my abilities—assuming you are right about me. Until yesterday, my arrogance convinced me I had little left to learn given what I have already mastered, but now I’m left wondering if I’ve only tapped into a fraction of the power I possess. I’d love to hear any insights you can give.”

  “My time is your time, Kayden. Ask your questions.”

  Things were off to a good start, thought Kayden. She could think of no one better to whom she could address her questions; she was sure to learn a great deal from Fay in the time it would take for them to walk back to Antaris campus.

  “My first query is in relation to the abilities I have already mastered as an apprentice. I can’t help but wonder if I have yet reached the limits of what is possible for me, or can I still push beyond what I have been taught thus far? To give you an example of what I mean,” she held a hand out in front of her, invoking Sinjaydan to generate an illumination orb, “whenever I create an orb, by default it takes the form of a sphere. I can increase or decrease its size.” She demonstrated to illustrate the point. “But why are we apprentices not taught how to alter the form our orbs take? There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be able to manipulate an orb into different shapes, is there?”

  “For you…? I know of nothing preventing you from altering the form of your orbs,” Fay replied. “But none of your instructors are capable of teaching you how to do so, any more than your peers are capable of learning; they will never be as powerful as you.” Again, Fay’s tone conveyed her certainty about Kayden’s status. “However, even if you did master this ability, what purpose would it serve,” Fay raised her eyebrows at Kayden, “other than to show off?”

  Kayden nonchalantly extinguished her illumination orb.

  Showing off was no longer a motivation for her. She was thinking back to the encounter with her black clad doppelgänger in the Forest of Revelation. The rogue version of her had manipulated an incendiary orb to take on the form of a Zu’tayral—a huge, winged creature from Zenoshanese mythology. She recalled how that demonstration of Zarantar had caused her to turn on her heels, and run for her life.

  “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of intimidation,” she said. “Imagine a scenario in which I’ve been tasked with apprehending a fifty-strong group of bandits who have been raiding the convoys of royal tax collectors in Mirtana. When confronting them, the sight of the Order’s uniform may not be enough to discourage them from resisting. But witnessing me transforming an incendiary orb into a giant sized fire phoenix, making it soar above their heads, would more than likely scare them into compliance.”

  “That’s an interesting supposition,” said Fay. There was a ‘but’ coming, Kayden was certain. “But you may find that while such a demonstration is effective at terrorising ordinary people, the same may not be the case when facing adversaries who also wield Zarantar.

  “Besides, you’ll never be tasked with apprehending thieves. It would not be a productive use of your time.”

  Not to be discouraged, Kayden continued.

  “Even so, Master, there is no harm in expanding my repertoire to include the ability manipulate the orbs I create into non-spherical forms,” she said. “So, how long would it take me to master if I was to receive instruction?”

  “As you have already demonstrated both the requisite skill and control necessary, during the ‘capture the box’ exercise—when you assaulted Master Zalayna,” a look of disapproval appeared on Fay’s face, “I imagine you could accomplish it in a day.”

  Kayden felt a pang of guilt at being reminded of how she had beaten up the female Sanatsai two nights earlier, violating her mind by invoking Barmityanzak to erase her memory of the attack as she lay unconscious. But she was more confused by Fay’s claim that, during the incident, she had demonstrated the skill and control necessary to shape her orbs into the kind of monstrous form her rogue doppelgänger
had unleashed against her.

  “Master Fay, I never did inquire about the condition of the Sanatsai I assaulted,” began Kayden. “How badly hurt was she?” The contrition in her voice was genuine.

  “Zalayna was fortunate not to be more seriously injured, given the ferocity of your assault,” said Fay. “But you need not worry, her injuries were quick to heal, although nothing could be done to restore the memory of the attack you took from her mind.”

  Just when she thought she couldn’t feel any worse about the incident, that was the last thing Kayden wanted to hear.

  “Master,” she said, “if possible, I would like the opportunity to say sorry face-to-face.”

  “That won’t be necessary. But I will convey your apology at the earliest opportunity.”

  “I’d appreciate that, Master.” She didn’t wish to dwell on her past transgressions for longer than necessary. She wanted to get the conversation back on track. “Going back to what you said a moment ago, I’m at a loss to understand how I supposedly demonstrated the skill and control that would allow me to alter the form of my orbs, during the ‘capture the box’ exercise.”

  “Create another illumination orb for me,” Fay instructed.

  Doing as ordered without question, she invoked Sinjaydan, creating an illumination orb that floated ahead of herself and Fay while they walked—its pale blue glow even more muted in the bright light of day.

  “Now,” continued Fay, “transform it into a lightning flash orb.”

  Though she failed to see the point in doing so, Kayden was content to humour Fay. She wielded her Zarantar again, invoking Kiraydan, and the pale blue orb gradually metamorphosed into a crackling, brilliant white sphere.

  “Very good!” exclaimed Fay, sounding suitably impressed. “You did the exact same thing during the assignment the other night.”

  “Right…” Kayden still wasn’t certain what Fay was trying to impart. “But what does that have to do with manipulating the shape of an orb?”

  “Well, transforming one type of orb into another is very similar to what you want to accomplish. In fact, it is harder. Yet you have clearly demonstrated your mastery of this ability, though you have received no instruction—not to mention you make it look so easy.”

  Kayden hadn’t realised she had done anything out of the ordinary, but Fay’s praise of her power filled her with pride.

  “And as trivial as it may seem,” continued Fay, “it is not something any of your peers can do. So…” She halted in her tracks, prompting Kayden to do likewise. “If you can do that, you’ll have little difficulty learning to do this.”

  She watched in silent awe as Fay assumed control of her floating lightning flash orb. The brilliant white sphere instantly metamorphosed into a fiery incendiary orb, rising rapidly into the air—increasing in mass as it did so. At about a hundred feet up, the large flaming sphere stopped and swiftly took on the form of a large, mythical fire phoenix.

  While she observed the winged creature circling overhead, Kayden was even more impressed by Fay’s demonstration than she had been of the similar feat performed by her black clad doppelgänger. Suddenly, the fire phoenix swooped into a steep dive, heading straight for them. It came within twelve feet before it blinked out of existence when Fay extinguished the altered orb. Kayden let out the breath she was holding, then turned to stare at her master. It wasn’t until that moment she fully appreciated what a fearsome sight must have confronted all the people who faced the Rogue during The Great War.

  “What’s the matter, Kayden?” queried Fay.

  “I’ve just realised how grateful I am I will never have to face you across a battlefield, Master,” replied Kayden. She found it hard to comprehend how Fay could have been defeated all those years ago.

  Fay smiled. “Well, that makes two of us.” Her tone was more light-hearted than Kayden was accustomed to hearing, and her demeanour more relaxed. “Let’s keep moving.”

  She kept pace with Fay as they resumed their walk. “I guess it’s true what they say about you, Master,” she commented. “You really are the most powerful Sanatsai that has ever lived.”

  “Who says that?” Fay replied with a chuckle.

  It was apparently a rhetorical question but Kayden elected to answer it anyway.

  “Everyone!” she said, as though it were a self-evident truth. “It’s one of those things that is always whispered on campus when people see you.” For good measure, she added, “I know Master Ari believes it to be true.”

  “Nonetheless, I cannot confirm the veracity of what ‘everyone’ says. And even if it is true…there’s no reason to believe this will always be the case. It’s inevitable someone more powerful than myself shall emerge, eventually.” Fay glanced intently at her. “Maybe that someone has already appeared.”

  After a fraught silence she returned her gaze to the path ahead. “So, what other questions did you want to ask me?”

  Kayden tried not to dwell on Fay’s less than subtle insinuation that she might be the ‘someone more powerful’ who would emerge. She still had several pressing questions to which she wanted answers; indeed, the conversation had just conjured up another one she hadn’t previously thought to ask.

  “Since you brought up the ‘capture the box’ exercise, Master,” she said, “I do have a question in relation to it.”

  “Go on,” prompted Fay.

  “On a number of occasions, now, you have made it clear you know every move I made during the assignment. You haven’t said how you know, though my assumption is you invoked Raytandushay so you could follow us unseen.” There was just one problem with that supposition she could not resolve. “However, my ability to sense Zarantar should have allowed me to be aware of your presence irrespective of you being invisible—but that wasn’t the case. I have subsequently come to realise how you managed it.” She recalled how the rogue doppelgänger had punished her arrogant conviction she could anticipate any attack during their duel. “Somehow, it is possible for you to conceal your Zarantar from the senses of those who ordinarily can sense the presence and use of it.”

  “Perhaps,” said Fay, but her tone was non-committal. She glanced quizzically at Kayden. “How did you reach that conclusion?”

  Kayden wanted to tell Fay about her encounter with the black clad assailant she had erroneously assumed was the Rogue, but she was mindful of Master Ari’s exhortation not to tell anyone.

  “Through painful experience,” she replied cryptically. “But I can’t really talk about it. Master Ari advised me against speaking about my experience last night. He seemed pretty adamant about it, actually.”

  “Fair enough,” conceded Fay. “And, yes, your assertion is correct. I can mask my Zarantar from the senses of others when the need arises, as I did the other night to observe your group during the ‘capture the box’ exercise.” She looked pointedly at Kayden. “You are the only person who knows this about me—not even Master Ari knows—so consider it one more thing you cannot reveal to anyone else.”

  She might have been perturbed by the exhortation to secrecy, but the reason for concealing this knowledge was a compelling one: the ability to mask the use of one’s Zarantar was an obvious advantage to have when facing a Zarantar-wielding adversary who could sense an imminent attack—even more so if your opponent was unaware that such a feat was possible.

  “As you wish, Master,” said Kayden. “So, is this an ability that is unique to you, or is it something I can do also?”

  Fay was staring straight ahead as she replied, “It is my hope you can and will master it as I have.”

  It dawned on Kayden that if Fay was the only member of the Order who possessed the power to mask the use of Zarantar, then the obvious implication of the reply was that Fay herself intended to teach her how to do it.

  “Does that mean you plan to teach me, Master?” she inquired.

  “If you keep the promise you made to me, then yes.”

  What promise had she made? Kayden suddenly wondered. O
h, that’s right! To make Fay proud of me.

  “Once you are inducted into the Order—which may be sooner than you think—you’ll be ready to learn all those things your fellow apprentices will never master.” Fay glanced sideways, gazing fixedly at her for a silent moment. When she spoke again her voice assumed a wistful cadence. “I have so much I want to teach you.”

  Kayden wasn’t sure how to interpret the look Fay had fixed upon her when uttering those words. Something about it was just so reminiscent of the way her mother used to look at her. It made her heart flutter.

  “Thank you, Master,” she managed to say. “It would be an honour to be instructed by you.”

  While holding Fay’s gaze, she realised that something had just passed between them—something more than confirmation their relationship would never again be characterised by antagonism. She didn’t understand fully what that something was yet, but she felt the need to kick-start the conversation again before the silence became awkward.

  She returned her focus to the trail ahead. “I have another question, Master.”

  “Ask away.”

  Once again Kayden recalled the duel with her doppelgänger the previous night. Her adversary was able to disappear then instantly reappear somewhere else, at will. She had never read or heard of any Sanatsai utilising Zarantar in such a manner before, and mastering such ability wasn’t on the syllabus back at Antaris campus. At least, not as far as she was aware. Yet she was certain the things she witnessed in the Forest of Enlightenment were in some way prophetic. That at some unspecified point in the future, she was destined to possess all the powers displayed by her doppelgänger—abilities she strongly suspected Fay already had mastery of.

  “Would I be correct in believing your Zarantar allows you to disappear from one place then reappear in another, in the time it takes to blink?”.

  When Fay glanced at her to address the question, Kayden noted the mischievous smile slowly curling the woman’s lips. Then, all of a sudden, she felt Zarantar just before Fay disappeared from view, reappearing almost instantly, some thirty yards further ahead. She halted in her tracks, awestruck.