Giving a shrug to the Shaper, Arderi leaned over and swiped his shirt from the ground. Jogging to catch up with the Commander, Arderi fell in step behind and pulled his shirt on, tying the front lacing. The blood-soaked tear in the side dangled at an odd angle.
This shirt is ruined! Yet, I have no way to replace it.
He followed Clytus out of the camp, past the small brook where he had washed the day’s dishes, and up onto a small, steep hill that overlooked much of the surrounding land. The sun hung low in the west and dusk would soon settle upon the land. Without warning, the Commander spun and grabbed Arderi by the shoulders with a ferocity that made his heart jump and stick in his throat.
“What in the Nine Hells were you discussing with that Shaper?” Clytus’ voice stayed low and quiet, yet dripped with malice.
In the face of the man’s wrath, Arderi’s voice fled. Standing there with his mouth gaping, he had never been so afraid of any one man in his entire life.
Clytus shoved him back a step and turned toward the setting sun. The man stood there for a span with—to Arderi’s terror—his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. When he turned back, his face was once again calm. “I am sorry, yet I need to know. What did you say to Sier Deln?”
Arderi glanced down at the man’s sword. “Nothing, Master Rillion, sir. Well… nothing of what you forbade me to speak of.”
“Then why was he explaining the workings of Melding the Essence to you?”
“I am not sure why. He schooled with my brother at the Academy in Mocley. He also said he felt—” Arderi’s voice caught.
Cocking an eyebrow, Clytus put his hands on his hips. “Aye… He felt?”
Arderi was trapped.
Stupid! I asked, and he knows. I am going to die here!
Reaching out a hand, Clytus placed it on Arderi’s shoulder. The man bent over a little to look into Arderi’s eyes. “He felt the Essence in you. Is that what he said?” Letting out a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. “You are forcing my hand, boy! With that damnable Shaper here, I an running out of options.” The Commander was no longer looking at Arderi as he paced in a small circle. Arderi was not even sure the man was speaking to him either. “I cannot let you continue like this. Yet, my only option is unthinkable! I do not know if it has ever been done.”
Without warning, tears flowed freely from Arderi. All of his emotions released in a torrential flood, washing over him in waves of agony. The failed Test, the grief his folks must now be feeling with his sudden disappearance, the fear of this place and the creatures from last eve, and now the knowledge that he was going to be abandoned—or worse—by this man. All this slammed down on Arderi. His knees buckled from the weight of it all. Collapsing to the ground, he buried his face in his hands and cried.
Clytus knelt down next to him. “Tell me, please, so I may help.” The compassion in the man’s voice cut off Arderi’s tears. He looked up into the man’s face and told him everything. Of the Test and his failure. About his brother and his message in which he spoke of the power he had felt within Arderi. Of Jintrill’s comments to the same effect. And last, he told him of his shame as to what he had done to his parents. How worried they must be, losing their son with no knowledge of what has happened. Through it all, Clytus listened, asking simple questions occasionally which helped Arderi keep on track.
When Arderi finished, Clytus was slowly nodding his head. “Son, there is nothing we can do at the present to fix that which you have done to your parents. I only hope you get the opportunity to do so. Still, I can help you with the rest, I think.” He sat down next to the boy.
“What I am about to tell you can never be repeated. Not to your friends or family—especially not to your brother, the Shaper. And, especially not to the Shaper down in our camp. Do you understand?” He waited for Arderi to nod his head before he continued.
“I also grieve for what I am about to tell you. You should not be given this information at your age nor in this manner. What I am about to tell you may cost you your life before you are even given the chance to embrace what it means. Yet, I feel I have no options left to me.”
“I will, at least, give you this. I have the answers you seek. I will tell them to you if you wish. I need you to understand that once I tell you, there is no going back. Your path will be set and only death will release you from it. I will ask you only once. Do you wish me to give you answers?” He raised a hand to forestall any response. “Do not answer this question lightly, son, for it is more important than you can possibly know.”
The sincerity with which the Commander spoke frightened Arderi. The memory of last eve during the fight, the man’s ghostly eyes peering into his very core. The only answer he knew beyond doubt was that this man could kill him. He felt that in his very bones. Gazing out over the horizon, the words of the old priestess he had met in the chapel of Saphanthia the eve before he ran away came back to him.
We could choose a path and be led to ruin, or be thrust into something that may lead us to greatness.
Master Rillion looked at him with a puzzled look. “What?”
Arderi had not realized he had said the words aloud. Yet, in saying the words, an odd sense of tranquility fell over him, and he nodded slowly. “Something an old priestess once told me. It did not make sense to me then, and I am not so sure it does now.” He reached up and wiped the last tear from his eye.
If I am to be the Plane’s fool, so be it. I must know.
“Aye.” He was happy to hear that his voice sounded strong.
Master Rillion stared into his eyes. When Arderi did not avert from his gaze, he nodded once. “Aye, I think you may be stronger than I gave you credit.” Getting to his feet, Clytus drew his sword. It was a slim gleaming piece of steel about a pace in length, with a slight curve to it. Arderi saw no adornment on the blade nor its worn leather-wrapped hilt. “The name of this blade is Dorochi. I have carried it for over thirty winters. It was a gift, as all Tur’ganas must be.”
Motioning for Arderi to stand, Clytus unwrapped the leather from the sword’s hilt. A gleam of red spilled from the handle as its covering was removed. Nestled in the center of the hilt, imbedded in the steel that continued unbroken from pommel to tip, sat a red Crystal. Sharp jagged angles of red light slashed out to gleam upon the surrounding terrain. Instantly, Arderi recognized the similarity the Crystal had to the Ka’ilyth that the Grand Master Shaper had used during the Test, and took a step away.
It is exactly like the lights from the Test! Only red instead of blue.
“You failed the Test for the same reason a Shaper can feel power within you.” Clytus’ tone remained level. “Because you do have the power within you to manipulate the Essence. It is simply different from that the Shapers possess.”
A chill passed over Arderi. “Aye, yet what kind of power. Sier Deln said that the Essence was in things, yet I saw you freeze everything! You stopped time itself!”
“Nix, lad.” A smile crossed Clytus’ lips. “What you saw was me slowing down the reality of the Essence.” He held the sword between them, horizontal to the ground. “There will be time for your questions. First, we cannot continue until you have been bound.”
The Crystal embedded in the hilt pulsed. The violent flashes of red light dazzled Arderi. The brightness of the beams stabbed through his eyes, forcing him to raise a hand to block some of its intensity. His heart pounded in time with the pulsing. He felt it pumping in his chest. The throbbing seeped through him, saturating every fiber until he could feel himself oscillating in rhythm to the Crystal. Reality dissolved around him. Sky, mountains—the very ground he stood on—all washed away by the red glow that enveloped him. He floated in it’s void. Mesmerized by it’s life, it’s being, it’s…
It is pure Essence!
A voice spoke. Far off in a distant realm. A disembodied being attempting to pull his attention from the only thing that
existed—the only thing that mattered. Arderi ignored it. He lost himself in the warm red glow of reality. Nothing else could compare to this.
Yet he heard and understood. Knew what the voice said even as he disregarded it. Its meaning burned in his mind. He heard a monotone voice speak and recognized it as his own. Knew what he said, for he had said it for all the eons the Plane of Talic’Nauth had existed. Knew that he would say the words forevermore. He listened to his words. “I shall never utter an untrue word. I shall protect the secrets of the Tat’Sujen Order. I shall be faithful to my duties and never waver. A vow which passes my lips shall be broken only by death. To these, I allow my Essence to be bound by the Melding of my very being to that of Ka’gana.”
Existence snapped back, and he slumped to the ground at Clytus’ feet. Arderi, covered in sweat, gulped in air as if he had run a league. Raising his arm to wipe his brow, he found he did not have enough strength to complete the task.
“It is done.” Clytus knelt down. “I have never heard of any of our Order being bound without understanding the full meaning of what they did. My heart grieves to know that I may have condemned you to death by my actions.” Reaching out, he helped Arderi sit enough to be propped against the nearby boulder.
The weakness that filled Arderi soon fled, and after a quarter aurn, he felt merely tired.
I could sleep for a full tenday, I think.
The cool breeze wafting over the land helped him regain some of his vigor. Raising a hand, Arderi brushed his hair from his face and looked up at Clytus. “What just happened?”
A look of pain cascaded over Clytus’ face. Taking a deep breath, the man turned his face up to the sky. “I am sure at some fair or festival you heard tales spun by some bard of the Tat’Sujen?” He smiled at the boy’s reaction. “Not all of them are tales, son, for the Order does exist. Having told you this, I should now have to kill you.” At the startled look from Arderi, Clytus raised a hand. “Settle. I will explain.”
“Your brother and the Shaper are both correct. You do have a power within you. We call it the Sujen. It is much like what the Shapers use, yet in the manner that men are like women. Two sides of the same coin, as it were. Except, where the gift to Meld the Essence is rare, the gift of Sujen is down right unheard of. Mayhaps four or five in a generation will have it.”
“So I am a Tat’Sujen?” Arderi’s head spun.
Clytus let out a small laugh. “Nix, boy. You have the power of Sujen, this is true. Alas, that does not make you a Tat’Sujen. Call it a prerequisite, if you must.”
“Normally, when one is found with the gift of Sujen, they are taken away to be trained in secret. If, during their training, they are found to be unworthy to join our Order, well… knowledge of the Sujen is not allowed to get out.”
“Unworthy?” Arderi did not like the sound of that. “Then why do you tell me this, sir?”
“You have pushed me into a corner, lad! I had hoped to leave you washing pans until I could find some way to spirit you off to be apprenticed by our Order. Alas, the Shaper puts a kink in that plan. I could kill you, yet that would weaken our Order by your loss.” Again, it seemed as if Clytus smiled at the discomfort his words caused Arderi. “And how would I be able to explain killing a farmer boy to my troop?” He laughed. “Nix, my only real option is to start your training myself.” Clytus grinned. “Besides, I can always kill you later if the need arises.”
Arderi shuffled his feet on the rocky ground. His mind raced as this new information seeped into him.
This is what Alant felt! The odd feelings I have had my whole life, the Test—it all makes sense!
“Do I now need to hide from Sier Deln?”
The red streaks of light vanished as Clytus wrapped the hilt of his sword, Dorochi, once more in its leather housing. “Nix, lad. That is one of the benefits of being bound to Ka’gana. A Shaper will no longer be able to sense anything from you.”
Still too weak to stand, Arderi rested his head on the boulder. “Ka’gana. I have heard that from somewhere. Yet, I do not recall where.”
For some reason this seemed to amuse Clytus. “Ka’gana is the true name of the Essence. The Essence is much greater than the Shapers of this Plane believe it to be. They see it more as a science. A way to Meld with physical items and change them. Yet Ka’gana is so much more. You have much to master prior to learning of such things, however.”
“So what happens now, sir?”
“Now?” Standing, Clytus reached out a hand and helped Arderi to his feet. “Now you go help Master Grith prepare lastmeal for the men. Then, I would suspect that you will have more dishes to wash.”
Looking at Clytus with a puzzled expression, Arderi could not tell if the man made a jest. “I do not understand. How is that training, sir?”
Clapping a hand upon Arderi’s shoulder, Clytus looked into his eyes. “Every action we make in life has consequences. You are a stowaway, lad, and you will be treated as such until the time comes when you earn a place among us. I have come here for a purpose, and that purpose is my top priority. Training you will happen when it happens.” Turning, Clytus strode back toward camp, leaving Arderi standing alone on the hillside.
Why is it I feel the only one who received any satisfaction from our talk was him?
Alant Cor awoke to a gentle shaking on his shoulder. For a moment he was unsure where he was. Looking up, he stared into what, in his groggy state, seemed to be the face of a goddess. Brilliant, jade-green eyes, like the clearest emeralds ever shaped by a master jeweler, held him in their embrace. A smile, formed from lips as lush and dark as the finest chocolate, bathed him in their warm caress. Dark black hair, seeming softer than the finest silk, tumbled around the edges of her dark-skinned face, framing it in a radiance of shimmering light. He did not move for fear of breaking the spell.
Gracefully, she stretched out her thin, supple hand. It floated across his field of vision like a gentle breeze. Pain shot through his chest as she poked him hard with a finger. “Do you be ill?”
Startled into action, Alant rose hastily, only to stumble backwards over the bag on which he had been sleeping. Embarrassment flooded through him as the fog of sleep lifted from his mind.
“Aie!” The girl hurried forward to help him up off the deck of the Mistbreeze Trader. “I do be sorry if I did frighten you.”
“Frighten!? Um… N-no, I just…” Alant glanced around the boat trying to give his brain time to catch up to what was happening. Giving her a weak smile, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head sheepishly. Reaching up, he pushed at a lock of brown hair that fell across his eye. “You did kind of sneak up on me, I guess.”
The girl put a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Her green eyes sparkled at him, and Alant experienced an odd tingling sensation deep in his chest. She stood tall for a girl, only a hand or so shorter than himself. A plain, yet elegant white robe covered her slim frame, accentuated only by the golden rope tied about her waist. Soft gold-colored slippers covered her feet. “I be looking for someone who traveled on this ship. A Shaper Initiate from Ro’Arith by the name Alant Cor?”
Her accent was strange, and she spoke so fast he had trouble understanding her fully, yet he felt he grasped the majority of what she said. Looking down at his dingy woolen shirt and pants, he realized he looked more a part of the crew than a passenger. Swallowing hard, he tried to answer, yet found his heart stuck in his throat. He stood in silence gaping at the girl, feeling his face grow hot and red.
Smiling knowingly at him, she giggled once more. “That be all right. Someone else can help me.”
She turned, as if to search for another crew member, and he reached out to touch her arm. “Nix! I… I am Alant Cor.”
“Oh! Well…” Her knowing smile turned into one of amusement as she looked him over.
She looks at me like I was a mouse, and her the fastest cat in the stead!
<
br /> “If that be the case, I be Shaith Ku’rin, Initiate at the Chandril’elian here in Hath’oolan. I came to escort you.” Shaith pointed to the bag he had tripped over. “Do those be your belongings?”
“Aye, well…” His stammering caused his face to grow even hotter. Mentally he kicked himself, then bent down and plucked the bag from the deck, staggering slightly under its weight. When he stood, he gave the girl another weak smile and motioned for her to lead the way.
Not a good start to my great adventure!
Even though it was just past midday when the Mistbreeze Trader arrived at the docks of Hath’oolan, dusk now settled over the island, casting deep shadows over everything. The two wound their way through the congestion of the dock area, and Alant still marveled that he saw nothing except Humans. “Why do I not see any Elmorians?”
Shaith spun around to face Alant so fast he almost ran into her. “Do no let the Elmorr’Antiens hear you refer to them by that name! They do find it degrading.”
“Degrading? Why?”
“They be very sensitive to the Human tongue. They do know, in our tongue, we have a tendency to call a person by the land of their birth. You be Ro’Arithian. And I, Silawaian.”
Her retort puzzled Alant. “Aye, yet in the Old tongue, Elmorr’Antiens translates to the ancient people of Elmorr’eth. Is not that the same thing?”
“I did hear the Chandril’elian of Mocley be lax in its teachings, yet I was no aware how bad it truly be!” She gave him a sad look and shook her head. “Nay, no to the Elmorr’Antiens. Calling them the ancient people of a land be more respectful than calling them by a variation of the name of the land.” The raven-haired girl turned and hurried on. Alant stood for a moment staring after her.
She may be arrogant. Still, she is correct on one point, I am ill prepared if I do not even know what to call my new teachers.
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