The bikes pass underneath a natural bridge eroded from the rocks around us. The terrain becomes more arboreal; the grass turns to a shade of gold.
“Sure there’s the luxury,” I affirm as my arms stay firmly wrapped around him. “But there’s the responsibility. Imagine that you’d have to not only abide by every law in your nation, but you’d have to uphold them as well. You also cannot venture where you please without constant supervision. And most times, you must marry for powerful alliances instead of love.”
He glances back and our eyes meet as I conclude, “Tell me, Tálir. Does that sound as grand as you thought?”
Tálir doesn’t respond for a few moments. The bikes move into a single file as we pass through a small cave that marks the exit of the ravine. We’re now in an open field of teal grasses, wildflower bushes, and sporadic trees. Our bikes pick up speed now that we’ve exited the ravines.
I can sense an aura of misgiving coming from Tálir, but he also doesn’t want to show aggression. “I suspect the cons out weight the pros on that one,” he says after a moment. “But why did you forsake everything? You could’ve taken some of your riches and lived a comfortable life elsewhere. Instead of working in the lower reaches of Z’hart City.”
“That would seem like the operative course of action,” I admit. “But my father taught me a very important lesson before he died. True royalty is not inherited, it is earned. It’s part of our nation’s interpretation in the faith of the Arc. They say that the Sage God blesses acts of honesty and integrity, so Z’hart thrives on earning their luxury.”
Tálir glances back at me again, his wavy, brown hair flows in the wind. “That reminds me of a lesson I learned growing up in the Pyrack. Work hard and you get to eat.”
I nod and give him a faint smile. “I wanted to know what it was like to live off the bare essentials. To work for my earnings, and to spend them frugally. Learning to brew ale was exciting and different. I fancied the rougher clothes of a brewer as opposed to the regalia of a noble. I’ve never had too much direct faith in the Arc myself. But in a way, I wanted to see if honest work was worthy of the Sage God’s blessings. While it was for my own selfish reasons, I did learn more about the common life than I ever could have in the Citadel.”
“That right there is why I think you’d make an excellent ruler, Sarina,” Tálir says, taking his right hand off the handlebar and pats the top of my knee gently. My heart beats rapidly.
It lasts for a moment, and then he hurriedly places his hand back atop the handlebar. “But I suppose that’s what makes us different,” he says. “Our upbringings taught us to value that which we don’t have.”
I look off into the sky as we ride over the plains. The blue sky is nearly packed with white clouds and the sun beams from above. “Yet, we may not be as different as you think, Tálir,” I say soothingly.
As we ride over the top of one of the hills, I see something I thought I’d never see in all my life. The Night Sea.
◆◆◆
Spanning for countless kilometers, the Night Sea passes far into the horizon while varying terrain elements dot its perimeter. Canyons, forests, and even light variations of bamboo jungles. Despite the awe I feel, the unnatural color of the Night Sea ebbs the euphoria I feel. The murky waters glow bright with neon algae and the sands of the surrounding beaches are black. It’s an eerie thing to lay eyes upon, despite its enigmatic appearance.
We ride for about another kilometer, turning slightly north in order to go around the body of water. It doesn’t take long for us to find our target, though. In a grove surrounded by oaks and pine trees, it sticks out like a sore thumb. We’ve found the willow tree. The trunk and branches are slender and pliant, forking like a lightning bolt. Its leaves are elongated and serrated.
Our repulsorbikes slow as we approach it. Planted within a small clearing within the trees, the willow almost has its own patch upon which it grows. Evening light penetrates through the surrounding trees and illuminates the willow’s branches and leaves. As we all disembark our bikes for a break, Tálir and I approach the willow tree at the center of the grove. The Tome in Tálir’s hand glows all the more brightly as we stop a few meters from the tree. I hear a slight hum.
“This thing is vibrating,” Tálir says in astonishment.
I look closely and see the device wobbling rapidly. Another sound catches my interest: a slight chirping originates from the tree. Scanning it fervently, I search for any sign of where the noise could be coming from. We both prowl around the willow, listening intently as the chirping gets louder. It reaches a fevered pitch, and then I see it.
Embedded within the pale bark of the tree is a small, cube-like protrusion. Looking at it more closely, I see esoteric lines etched into the protrusion that faintly glow blue. Carefully, I grasp the cube and with a light tug, I pull it from the tree. Surprisingly, cool metal meets my fingers and I examine the azure lines along the pale surface of the cube. It’s another device!
Tálir hovers close to me with the pyramid in hand. Both objects hum and chirp in an almost musical symphony. Almost in synchronization, Tálir and I both activate the devices and each opens to reveal several new images. The pyramid shows a canyon beyond the forest while the cube reveals a temple-like structure beyond the same canyons.
“It’s not just a guide,” Tálir says in awe, his hazel eyes widen. “It’s—”
“A puzzle,” we both say simultaneously. Our eyes meet and we both smile.
“The pyramid Tome led us to the tree,” I say after a moment. “Now the cube Tome shows us our next target.”
“And the pyramid is showing us how to get there from here,” Tálir concludes as the devices deactivate.
“How much you want to bet the next Tome is a sphere?” I ask devilishly, using my hand to brush my hair behind an ear.
Tálir makes an absurd gesture of doubt. “Bet you it’s not.”
“You’re on,” I wink.
We both turn to see the others all crowding around us with curious expressions on their faces. Abrax a few meters from us with a wide grin on his face. “One beacon down it seems,” he grunts with a sly smile. “And I believe you two know where the next one is.”
The old man points towards the far side of the Night Sea. Despite its breadth, I can faintly see the terrain east of the sea. A massive canyon that spans into the far reaches of the world beyond—the rocks are the color of deep burgundy. I hold up the cube Tome in the direction of the canyons, and imperceptibly it starts to glow.
“The Marün Canyons,” Vivían says in revelation.
Abrax nods. “We are on the right track, laddies,” he says with a hint of glee.
I smile back, and I can sense determination rising within the group… and in myself. For it’s not the discovery of the new Tome that makes me feel this way. It’s Abrax’s sudden confidence that truly pushes me to believe that we can succeed. Even if it is just a simple beacon, I have a hint of faith that we’ll find our way easily.
Chapter 36: Tálir
The Itinerant Mind
I FEEL CLEAR.
It has been a while since I’ve felt this way, and it’s difficult to describe. It’s as if I’ve resurfaced from underwater, breathing fresh air and escaping the pressure of the sea. I’m no longer drowning, I’m floating.
A few days after passing the willow tree, we had continued venturing north in order to avoid the Night Sea. After those days, we managed to reach the Marün Canyons that span for six hundred kilometers into the east. It will take us almost three days before we clear these monstrous crags. But the silver lining is that another Tome is supposed to reside not far from these canyons.
Based on what Vivían has said, the temple might be located in one of the Outlander territories. Which means that after the Marün Canyons, we’ll begin entering the land of Asi: the true home of the Outlander clans.
It’s early in the morning as my training continues while Abrax and Sarina observe my progression. Abrax thinks it’ll
be helpful for someone else to distract me as I attempt to focus. While Sarina observes merely out of curiosity, I believe Abrax is aware of her influence on me. I have to remain much more vigilant in my focus with her there. Yet, there’s also strength to her presence like she’s making sure I don’t pass into emotional focus.
In the weeks that have passed since the battle in the swamp, my sessions with Abrax seem different. Not in just what I’m learning, but because of our newfound respect for one another. It seems easier to absorb the lessons taught by someone I respect as a teacher. He no longer teaches as a drill sergeant, but as a peer.
Away from the group, I practice in one of the smaller ravines that branch off in the crags. A muddy pond is nearby and patches of dried grass litter the sandy ground. The ravine walls barely exceed ten meters, so it’s easy for us to climb in and out. Moving freely, my armored boots step from the dry ground and into the muddy water.
Abrax and I are sparring again. Except this time, we’re not at each other’s throats. Learning through experience is his new method of instruction. Sarina sits off to the side atop a large outcropping, sharpening her spear.
Focusing on objects or fixed positions in my surroundings is a way I concentrate my magic output. Drawing my attention to a patch of grass, a sinewy tree, or a crack in the ravine wall helps most of the time. But the tiniest distraction can break my focus. It’s the most exasperating aspect of this power. With Sarina’s added presence, my distractions have increased tenfold despite the new adrenaline I get with her around.
Discus has been consistent and yet a struggle. Remaining above 50% Output Charge has been a constant battle particularly because the magic must be harnessed, contained, and then thrown. It’s easy to lose focus once the energy has formed into a disk or orb—leading it to dissipate. Trying the Blaze Form is going to be an even more arduous task.
Movement for Form III is relatively simple since all it really requires is a throwing motion. Forward, sideways, underhand, and back-handed swings each generate the magic. Usually, I prefer sideways throwing. Appearing as emerald fireballs, the Discus impacts the rocky ravine wall. Scorching green flames gyrate around the impact spot as it dissipates.
“One: Discus can cause more serious injuries like burns or even broken bones,” Abrax is saying as he uses Stream to quickly deflect another Discus I hurl at him. “It’s not lethal, however. Two: Discus can only be deflected by another Discus… or a quick Stream. And three: As you’ve probably noticed, Discus does not stop until it hits something. Once released, there’s no altering its trajectory unless you hit it with something.”
“How can Stream deflect it but Shield can’t?” I call, ducking under a Discus thrown in retaliation.
Abrax shrugs slightly. “Stream doesn’t actively deflect Discus. It just nudges its trajectory enough to send it elsewhere. It’s more along the lines of redirecting.”
My HUD indicates a 68% Output Charge as I strain to focus. I try to keep my head clear. But another vision flashes before my eyes. It’s one of the earlier ones. Sarina in a vast blackness, meters away from me. Her back is turned to me, but she begins to slowly turn around. I see her face, and her eyes are grey. Blinded. Fear grips me as I snap out of the vision.
The Discus soars from my hand and towards the old man, but he sidesteps from it. I’m too slow to react to his counter. A Stream hits me directly in the chest and I’m flung backwards into the mud.
I swear under my breath. Not just from the damned sting of the energy, but my constant struggle to maintain focus. Why is this so damn hard?
“You know,” Abrax says, pacing behind me as Sarina sits up strait in interest. She refrains from laughing at my failure. “Most of the Suzerains believe that all se’baus are victims of the Itinerant Mind. Your mind is never at rest, and emotions cloud everything.”
“Itinerant Mind?” I repeat, retracting my helmet. “That sounds like some philosophy for monks or—”
“Or ancient warriors?” Sarina comments, extending her spear and examining it. “It’s not like you’re learning the culture behind said warriors.”
“Thanks for the clarification, Sarina,” I retort snidely, sitting up in the muddy water. “I’m just curious as to why a warrior culture needs to apply philosophy to their methods.”
Abrax approaches me and extends his left hand. Grasping it, he raises me out of the muck. “It’s an ideal that dates back to the early eons of the Old World,” Abrax says as we walk out of the water. “Warriors of old were always strong in their hearts and minds when it came to battle and discipline. They believed that a human mind naturally wanders in thought, emotion, and memory. True focus came from having a calm mind. An Itinerant Mind.”
I wipe some mud off my pauldrons and look at the old man’s dark face. “How can anyone have a calm mind when there’s so much activity everywhere?” I ask with a note of frustration. “My mind and heart are always going to be full of emotion. I can’t change that.”
Abrax scratches at his beard, which needs some measure of trimming now. Wiry strands of silver hair poke out from the tangled mess.
“A Maven knows their heart,” he says cryptically.
My face contorts in bewilderment. “What do you mean?” I ask, glancing down at my armor. “A Maven knows their heart?”
“If one knows their mind and their heart, they can find true serenity,” Abrax affirms. “If you are one with your mind and heart, you will have no inhibitions. This requires no distractions. No anger, sadness, fear, or happiness. You must be empty to find that level of peace.”
He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Forget about all distractions,” the old man says calmly. “Just breathe. Focus on that.”
Slowly, he walks a few meters in front of me and reloads his gauntlets for another sparring match. I do the same, but I pause after placing fresh kryo shards into my gauntlets.
I marinate on his lesson for a moment, calming myself in the process. I try to clear my mind of all the things around me. Instead, I listen to the running water, the insects chirping, and the whistle of the wind. Breathing slowly, I listen to the armor—the low hum that vibrates in my chest and the faint cackle of energy.
The heat within the armor feels like it’s sinking into my bones; the metal is almost like a second skin. I can feel the magic running like water through it, and the humming fluctuates as I focus on it. Slowly, I start reaching my arm out and think about nothing except the energy.
I feel nothing. I think about nothing. It’s just me and the armor.
There’s a rush of energy, stronger than anything I’ve felt before. My heart pounds slowly but firmly, and I hear it echo within my mind. I open my eyes, and focus my attention solely on the old man in front of me. Like blood in my veins, I let the energy naturally flow towards my palm.
Activating my helmet, the HUD reads a 75% charge and climbing. Yet, I contain my excitement. I keep my attention on the energy surging within my armored hand. I feel nothing as I extend my palm and unleash the energy.
Though weak, a Blaze erupts from my palm and speeds towards Abrax. Surprise is etched in the old man’s features as he employs a Shield to block the attack. However, he underestimates the strength of my Blaze.
Shattering like glass, his Shield crumbles upon being hit. I cease the output so that the energy doesn’t strike Abrax. My goal has been reached.
Sarina starts clapping slowly from her perch as Abrax recovers from the blast. He gives me a nod of pleased approval. “Congratulations Tálir,” he says. “You’ve learned the four Forms of a Maven Knight.”
◆◆◆
The early morning sun peeks out over the walls of the canyons as my session comes to a close. I feel proud. I’ve learned the four Forms of kryo magic, even if I haven’t fully mastered them yet. Something tells me my training is still far from completion, but I savor my triumph nonetheless.
As the three of us prepare to return to the others, something dawns on me. In the swamp, Abrax had mentioned that those from
his Order knew far more about Maven culture than I did. And I wish to know why. Who are these people?
“Abrax,” I say suddenly, drawing the attention of my two companions.
“What’s wrong, Tálir?” he replies, grasping his arms behind his back.
I look at Sarina who still perches upon the boulder a few meters from us. Almost like she knows what I’m thinking, she nods her head. And I know why. This is the same Order that kidnapped her and wishes to take control of her nation. Of course she’ll want to know.
“I think it’s about time you explained what your Order is, Abrax,” I say, adjusting my bracer. The look on his dark face sours. But he knows it’s time. “You and Remus were both a part of it, and now they’re our most prominent threat. You told me they know much more about Maven training than I ever will. So, we need to understand what they’re about if we’re to beat them.”
The Maven Knight (The Maven Knight Trilogy Book 1) Page 28