Chronicles of Galadria I_The Other World

by David Gay-Perret

  “Good morning, gentlemen. Can I help you?”

  “Hello. We’re protectors. This is Jeremy, and my name is Glaide. We’re looking for a school where we can learn to use a sword. Some books mentioned yours, and we’ve come to be enquire about it. We know nothing about this style, but we would love to study with you. Would you have the time to teach us a little?”

  “You want to learn the style of Murockai? Very good. My name is Gryth, and I am a disciple of the master of this school, who is absent right now. Unfortunately, I cannot leave these students alone at the moment, but would you have time to return this evening? We could discuss it then!”

  The two teenagers looked at each other, then Jeremy responded, “That would be perfect. We’ll return this evening. There is no rush.”

  “Be sure to have your weapons with you. I’ll need to study them.”

  “Of course. See you later!”

  With that, the two friends left. They were impatient for the arrival of evening; the man had made a good impression, and they wanted to speak with him. Plus, they had had the opportunity to glance at the students, and what they had seen had impressed them. None of them fought in the classic manner, face to face, with a fixed stance. No, their blades flew about the room; they held their weapons for a few seconds, before sending them flying overhead, then catching them, striking out with them, then throwing them into the air again. It required great dexterity, but also looked terribly tempting.

  The two adolescents rejoined the girls at the inn, and told them about the meeting set for that evening. The girls had presented themselves at the tower, only to be met by Vizc himself. He had looked pleased to see them, and had graciously agreed to answer their many questions. He had, however, warned them of one thing: he could offer no assistance concerning maggs. As a black mage, he knew nothing of white magic. The teens had moved directly onto the subject of eorens.

  Vizc first confirmed what the books had told them: eorens effectively permitted one to produce black magic. He then added that a powerful sorcerer would no longer use them, first because one had to have them constantly nearby, and secondly, because eorens represented a danger to Galadria if they were employed too much. The man declared that these objects were the fruit of much hard work from the ancients, whose goal had been to concentrate the flux in the form of a pure element, and to enclose them in some way, even if no actual container was necessary. They were successful.

  “Why did our ancestors do that?” asked Vizc. “No one has any idea. These curious objects represent much more than a simple way of using magic – they each represent isolated pieces of the earth itself. It is for this reason that in our time, it is necessary to avoid using these artifacts as much possible, at the risk of causing a disequilibrium. Actually, the flux that is used by white magicians and masterful black magicians seems to renew itself when they call on it, all very simply: when such a mage cast a spell, all of his concentration, and all of his physical energy, was transformed into flux. In a way, it recharges Galadria,” added the old man. “By contrast, using an eoren gives back nothing. Under these conditions, it is easy to conceive of the magical flux of Galadria drying up.”

  Glaide made the connection between that and what the two farmers had said, about the water eorens drying up the planet. He realized just what kind of situation Galadria found itself in: to all evidence, they no longer had rain, so they used water eorens, but such an intensive, though vital, usage would finally prove to be fatal.

  He shared his reflections with his friends, and Jeremy declared, “So in summary, inexperienced magicians use eorens to cast spells, while maggs and master mages use the flux directly. Any major use of these objects, such as is necessary for growing crops – and for survival, actually – creates disequilibrium for the planet. We don’t know whether or not this famous disequilibrium will turn out fatal, but everyone is apprehensive that one day or another, Galadria will be completely emptied, and no one really knows what the actual consequences of that would be. On the other hand, there has to be a reason that the rain stopped, doesn’t there?”

  “Yes, probably,” Emily replied. “But we didn’t ask that question.”

  “In any case, we’re at least a little more knowledgeable about this world’s current situation. Though that doesn’t really help us to know what we can do to help,” declared Glaide, his face somber. “I don’t really see how we can trigger the rain falling again.”

  “True, but as the king said, let’s first occupy ourselves with our own worries, before we try to take on everyone else’s. I think that Emily and I should train seriously, and the same goes for you two,” concluded Gwenn.

  They all agreed with a nod of the head. They finished their meal, then went once again to the library, until evening arrived. Glaide didn’t feel up to diving into the dusty volumes, and instead chose to spend his time looking out the window and contemplating the village, with all of its activity. The angle of the view let him approximate the actual position of the library within Shinozuka. The portal they had taken in the Tower of Dawn brought them to a building much further to the south, not far from the entrance by which they had arrived in Shinozuka.

  The young man soon became lost in his thoughts. Discovering all of the problems that oppressed the inhabitants of this world – who nonetheless smiled all the time, and who were always ready to offer their aid at the slightest request – all at once was quite a shock. He found such an injustice revolting. He had to admit, however, that situations like this existed on Earth, too, and that many people likewise lived in the midst of numerous problems. However, there he could never quite manage to pity them, as he could easily name who was responsible: mankind.

  Here, though, it was different. Whose fault was the lack of rain? Who was in charge of all of these monsters? Baras? Yes, he was partly responsible, but his motivation remained unclear. As the Guardian had said, many people called him the “God of Evil”, but Glaide remembered that the man had also cautioned that neither good nor evil existed. A human being was made up of both good and bad sides. “But does that mean that Baras is present in all of us?” asked the adolescent. And what is the role of Aras in all of this? This “God of Good” has been keeping a very low profile...

  Glaide had come to consider Baras the god of his enemies, more than as the God of Evil in general, and Aras as the god of humans – and other people, perhaps.

  Time passed, and the evening rapidly arrived. The two girls demonstrated an interest in accompanying their protectors to the meeting. No one opposed the idea, and the group headed towards the dojo.

  Chapter 20

  GRYTH was there, leaning against one of the pillars that framed the entrance. When he saw them arrive, his face broke into a big smile.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Oh!” he exclaimed as he noticed the young women. “And here are your maggs! I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Gryth.” The teens introduced themselves in turn. The boys were impatient to start, and the man must have realized that, as he suggested immediately that they move outside the village and begin their conversation. The young people were surprised at the suggestion, but in the end they agreed. The disciple acted as a guide for them through the labyrinth of little streets, all the while rapidly explaining why he wished to go outside. As his master was absent, he spent his days inside the dojo, so he wished for fresh air and space.

  “Plus,” he added, “the view from the hill to the east of the village at twilight is truly magnificent.” They went through a gate that opened towards the famous hill. Though much less impressive than the principal gate, it was similarly flanked by two watch towers, measuring several yards tall and wide. As they exited, they noted that the hill that Gryth had spoken of was the same one that they had noticed when they arrived at the borders of the city. It was imposing, but one could reach its summit easily enough.

  The disciple took advantage of the time required to climb the hill to explain the basics of the Murockai school. As they had noticed in observing the
students training, the Murockai style was very aerial – the goal was not to have a solid defense, nor to place powerful blows, but rather to not have to guard yourself at all, so that you could move rapidly, and attack repeatedly. It was necessary to develop your vision, and to anticipate the strikes of your enemy – as well as his speed and his skill – because with this technique, one’s sword was only rarely in one’s hands! It was important to always be able to regain it.

  Gryth admitted that it looked relatively difficult to throw and catch one’s sword at will, especially for inexperienced people, such as the adolescents. However, he added that the masters who had created the school – with Novak being the first, of course – had carefully reflected on the sequences that would allow a weapon to easily be caught. In that way, it proved very good training. Later, once the sword was better understood and had been conquered, the carrier needed to do nothing more than to create his own attacks and techniques.

  The man stated that the Murockai style was efficient against a single enemy – because of the number of blows it brought and the difficulty to predict them – as well as against multiple adversaries. He added, however, that in the latter case, the battle could last relatively long, as the attacks weren’t necessarily very strong, and a large number of blows for every enemy present would be necessary. However, the technique was also very good for keeping your adversaries at a distance, or for producing a diversion that would last for quite a while.

  At the cost of great effort – speaking with Gryth while also climbing was exhausting – the adolescents reached the top of the hill. Nothing could have prepared them for what awaited them: relatively high up, the knoll offered an unobstructed view of the entire city. The inhabitants, little more than black points, were moving in all directions. The mountains that flanked Shinozuka were now unveiled in all their glory. The cluster of them didn’t extend to the right or the left; they simply formed a protective half-circle directly to the north and west of the city.

  The scene on the other side of the hill was purely and simply breathtaking with its beauty: immense plains, sprinkled with rocks, woods, and forests continued as far as the eye could see. Nothing blocked their view, and the horizon was perfectly distinct. The teens thought they could distinguish a village far in the distance. Numerous paths and pebbled lanes wandered through the virgin expanses, and a few travelers could be seen following them. One of them appeared to motion to them, but none of them could tell for sure, as he was so far away. Before so much space, and so much majesty, the young people could do nothing but gaze about them, standing idly.

  “Have you never seen it before?” exclaimed Gryth, breaking the silence that had fallen almost religiously on the group. Then, noticing the clothes that Glaide – who had still never found the time to go shopping for new ones – wore, he added, “Mmm, actually, if you’re not from around here, that’s perfectly normal. I try to come here to look at the countryside every evening, since it helps me concentrate, and meditate.”

  “It’s... magnificent,” whispered Emily.

  “I apologize if I’m intruding, but if we want to head back before nightfall, we need to get started.”

  The friends shook their heads, as if to wake themselves.

  “Yes, yes, of course,” murmured Jeremy.

  “So, show me your weapons, please.”

  The two young men rapidly made their weapons reappear, drew them, and held them out to the man. He examined Glaide’s first.

  “Hmmm...” he said, seeming lost in thought. “Yes... difficult... yes.... interesting... that would be better...” He turned the blade this way and that, deep in concentration, all while murmuring about this and that. Finally, he paused and looked at the young man. “To be frank, this weapon is not well adapted to the school of Murockai. It is too long, too large. The handle is too short. You would have to develop a great deal of agility to be able to catch it during flight. The guard, because of its length, impedes the use of part of the blade. That being said, if you want to learn the style, you are welcome. Just know that it will not be easy. Of one thing I am certain, and that is that when you forged your blade, though done unconsciously, you were certainly not forging your weapon to practice this school of sword fighting.”

  “If only I had forged it,” thought Glaide with a bitter smile. Disappointment could be read in his eyes, and he was discouraged. He still intended to train and learn Murockai, but it seemed that any success in that would truly be a miracle. Gryth added something, nonetheless, that attracted the attention of the boy and reassured him.

  “Personally, though I don’t specialize in the technique, I think your weapon is much more adapted to the technique of Iretane. A blade, long and broad so that it can resist direct attacks well, a guard offering excellent protection for the hands in case of a frontal attack, and a grip that allows it to be used with two hands... Yes, if you practiced that style, it’s certain that your weapon would help you greatly to progress. But unfortunately, no one teaches it anymore... Now to your sword, Jeremy.”

  Gryth took up the weapon of the young man, and when he had barely even seen the blade, he exclaimed, “It’s perfect. It’s made for Murockai! Look well, friends: the grip is long, which allows the sword to be caught more easily. The guard, while perfectly efficient, is short. Nearly the entirety of the blade is usable, though it is not very wide, and thus won’t hinder the rapid movements that are indispensable in this school. Jeremy,” he said, addressing the adolescent directly, “You certainly forged this sword for this school. If you want to join, know that you will be very welcome.”

  Jeremy wore a massive smile. He’d finally found the right school for him! Glaide, though still disappointed, was happy for his friend – Jeremy would now be able to train and grow strong. The sun began to set along the horizon, and night would soon fall, but Gryth decided to train with them for a little while, nonetheless.

  The girls moved back a few yards, to better view the whole scene. If it was anything like what they had seen at Rackk, it promised to be vastly amusing! However, much to their disappointment, the training revealed itself to be much calmer and easier: the man simply proposed that they work on spinning the sword in their hands, so that the sharp edge of the blade was first up, then down. A few mistakes were made, and more than once a weapon found itself propelled several yards away, but overall, it seemed to be fairly easy, though Glaide – as Gryth had said – had much more difficulty than his companion.

  This first success motivated the adolescents, who immediately demanded that the man teach them more. However, he politely refused. The next step would be to learn to catch the blades once they were in the air. Not yet being able to train with wooden weapons would mean injuries would be a certainty. So, the first lesson ended there.

  The last rays of the sun flooded the hill as the small group tranquilly descended and headed towards Shinozuka. They reached it just as the heavenly body fully set. Still filled with the view of the magnificent countryside that they had just seen, and the words of their future master, they returned to the inn.

  That week was marked by training: the maggs sought to improve their powers, while the protectors began to discover the secrets of the school of Murockai. They had little time to return to the library, but the experience they gained was just as useful. Jeremy made great strides in his training. It was undeniable that the technique pleased him, and the weapon he carried did nothing but simplify things for him. The more he learned, the more his desire to learn grew. His motivation seemed to be without end.

  Glaide, on the other hand, found things immensely more difficult. This technique didn’t interest him very much. He preferred the traditional styles, such as Iretane. Adding to that the fact that the last master teaching the technique had recently left – and the fact that the young man still had a possible voyage of his own in mind – did nothing to motivate him. He couldn’t get the other school out of his mind. The little time he had passed with Uziere had filled him with joy. That man had seemed
resourceful and mysterious, and the adolescent hoped to find those same characteristics in the second master of Iretane – that warrior who now wandered the Known Lands. However, Glaide was conscious of the fact that crossing paths with that man in such a huge area would practically be a miracle....

  The end of that week was also a chance for the group to celebrate their first month passed on Galadria. When the boys announced that to their companions, they had to take a moment to realize that it had actually been thirty days since their arrival. It was true that their journey, which had lasted a week and a half, had taken up a big part of it, but – as Glaide had so judiciously remarked – journeys were a part of life in this world. They could represent weeks or even months. Unlike in the world from which they came, though, moving from place to place was not a simple detail – it represented real adventure and real danger.

  The four friends tried to imagine what their lives would have been like if they’d remained on Earth. At that moment, their summer vacation would have already been half over. In another month, they’d have started classes again. The two girls couldn’t stop themselves from imagining their families – who were living their lives as though nothing had happened, though the girls were no longer with them. And that would continue, but for how long? The questions that they had been asking since their arrival – and that had been gradually replaced by curiosity and activity – came back to mind, and brought with them their fair share of melancholy.

  To celebrate that Sunday, the teens decided to do nothing in particular, but simply walk about the village and its surroundings, to enjoy the sun and the fresh air, and to meditate a little. When evening came, they climbed to the summit of the hill and sat down to eat. They had asked for some tips for cooking food over a fire, and they succeeded in preparing a real feast. While they savoured the cuisine, the plains, mountains, forests, and all of the rooftops of Shinozuka before them slowly took on an apricot color. The more the sun set, the more the colors sparkled and gleamed, and Glaide began to hum a melody whose origins he couldn’t quite recall. It was a sad air, and soon he felt a breath of joy mount up in him, tinged with nostalgia and pain, before the scene in front of him that embraced his heart.