Esra

by Nicole Burr

  Esra turned towards her old blacksmith friend. “And what are ye the Keeper of?”

  “Actually,” Nadia offered, “Baelin is the only person ever known to be a dual Keeper. At first he was called forth to be the Keeper of Arms, after completing his first test. That was fairly obvious to everyone. I’m sure yer familiar with some of his work. His craftsmanship is unmatched by any in the Kingdom. He can work with any metal, any wood, any element, to create weapons and armor in perfection. ”

  Esra lightly touched the Great Wolf blade that was tucked safely inside her boot. She wasn’t surprised by this one revelation at least. “I see.”

  “The things ye’ve seen at Sorley are only a few of the items I can make,” Baelin explained. “I also had te be very careful that my skill wouldn’t bring too much attention. I make weapons fer all the Keepers, except those that receive them as a gift, like Fynn and Arland.”

  “That’s true,” Arland pulled out his greatsword and offered it to Esra. She stroked the flat surface of the sword hesitantly, the cold metal sending a chill down her spine. The blade gave off a subtle reddish hue, almost a glow like Fire.

  “So ye are the one I saw in the camp, surrounded by a group of Elites?” Esra thought back to the beautiful arc of a blade in the Firelight, the calm warrior overcoming his attackers with ease.

  “Aye, that was me,” Arland confirmed. “This is the Greatsword of Narajuv, which I received as a Gift fer passing my first test.”

  “Yer very skilled in yer weapon of choice, I must say. Ye should have been a Keeper of Sword.”

  He must have noticed the slight pause as she said this, for he offered her an explanation. “It does seem strange at first when ye hear that a Keeper of Charm would be in such an esteemed Assembly, I agree. Especially when ye see such battle ready skills like a Keeper of Arms and Stealth and even Earth. What is the use in being Charming, ye must wonder?”

  Esra blushed at his forwardness, but was inwardly thinking the exact same thing. He was undeniably charming, but she didn’t see how that could aide much in a tight situation. Unless you could woo an Elite soldier while one of the others clobbered him.

  “Well,” he continued, “to state the more obvious of my abilities, I can attract or distract people. That can certainly be an advantage, especially when I work with Nadia to get into or out of somewhere we shouldn’t be. As twins, our skills work together very well. But although Fynn will claim, jealously of course, that I am nothing more than a pretty face, that isn’t quite true. I have the ability to not only charm people, but influence them, and objects as well. I can bend something’s purpose or will to me as Baelin bends metal. I am also extremely lucky, so ye will find that just being near me will increase yer chances of success at most things.”

  “Sounds like very good skills to have handy if ye ask me,” Esra nodded, impressed.

  “Aye, I keep trying te get him te go gambling at the pub, but he ne’er will,” Fynn complained. “Claims it isn’t fair or such nonsense. And that Keepers should be honest. Blah blah.”

  Esra chuckled and turned her attention back to the greatsword as she ran her hand along the smooth blade, the intricately carved inscriptions running down its length. Although it was obvious that Arland was very fond of this weapon, it showed no signs of wear. She had not known a piece of metal could be so beautiful. “What are the carvings on the blade and hilt?”

  “They are the markings of my people, similar to the ones I carry on my forehead. As fer the rest of us here, Fynn is a skilled archer. The Longbow, as ye’ve already seen. Baelin likes to use a staff of his own creation. It has a dagger-like metal tip on one end and a spiked metal ball on the other. I daresay it is a heavy and difficult weapon to wield, but he has mastered it, and it makes him a formidable and intimidating opponent. I use the Greatsword of Narajuv and Nadia uses lances, or throwing spears. She also keeps a dagger fer up close encounters, but it’s rare that she is seen when she doesn’t want to be, or that she’d miss a target with her spears in the first place.”

  Esra had a flash of a man in the camp being pierced by a spear-like weapon. “Yer all very good warriors, then?”

  “The best, actually,” Nadia said proudly. “We have been training fer this fer quite some time.”

  Esra sat in awe that she was surrounded by such skilled sorcerers and warriors. Surely she had never met anyone like them. And to think that there were so many more of them. “But how am I supposed to be a part of an Assembly when I’ve exhibited no better talent than proficient reading? It just doesn’t make any sense. And Baelin, they said ye were a dual Keeper. So what is the other thing that ye are to keep?”

  He stared at her unwaveringly. “Ye, Esra.”

  XIII

  “Me?” Esra exclaimed. “Why do I need a Keeper?”

  “Well,” Nadia started, “he was in Sorley to protect ye. He’s yer guardian.”

  That explained why Baelin had arrived so suddenly in a town where he had no family or other reason to be there. Why a skilled blacksmith would want to hide away in the middle of nowhere. Esra could not keep her frustration from growing once again. Everything was becoming a lie. Was he even really her friend?

  “But why do I need a guardian? Why are Tallen and his Elites even after me?”

  “Maybe it’s easier if we show ye,” Nadia suggested. She held out her arms palm up to the center of the group. The others joined her, placing their forearms up against one another to create a wavy row of skin. They looked to Esra and she reluctantly turned her arms palm up and added them to the line. As she did, she felt a tingling sensation as the shimmering black text began to snake itself across her arms.

  “Although we must all concentrate on Cane, only one of us should be the main speaker so as not to confuse everything. Focus yer thoughts on trying to communicate with Cane. Baelin will tell him that yer alright.” The peculiar script felt like a spider that was slowly making its way across her skin, and she fought the urge to brush it off. This time the Tur seemed to be different from what Arland had shown her. The script was brighter, like a light shone from behind their skin, illuminating the dark moving lines. The lines soon came together, and she began to read the message:

  Hello, Esra, it’s Cane. I’m glad yer safe. I am also pleased to see that our studies of the Tur are coming into good use. Please trust yer new friends and make it back to the Stronghold soon. Yer mother and father cannot wait to see ye. And Esra, please do not be too angry.

  She jerked her arm away from the group and the writing disappeared.

  “Is that a joke?” Esra spat angrily. “My parents are dead.”

  “No, they’re not,” Baelin said quietly. The other three looked uncomfortably at the blacksmith, then back at Esra. She did not wait for an explanation. In one swift movement Esra was on her feet and running towards the forest. She was not sure where she was headed, but she did not want to be anywhere near those people and their lies.

  She ran hard, feeling the rage gain strength every time her foot hit the ground. She wanted to stay angry, to refuse to believe their ridiculous tales. But the running couldn’t erase what they had said. The words haunted Esra, and she ran even faster trying to escape them. Her breath came out in great heaving gasps and her legs trembled beneath her, whether from anger or the exertion she wasn’t sure. The space behind her eyes seemed to ache with this knowledge, and she resented not running back to Sorley the second she had awoken next to the Fire. They were all liars.

  Stumbling in her exhaustion, she fell to the ground, drained, as Meshok emerged from behind a Tree. The Great Wolf always seemed to know when she was upset. Esra buried her face in her one true friend’s fur and let out a muffled sob. Meshok tenderly licked her salty face, trying to calm the frantic mess on the forest floor.

  “I’m sorry, Esra,” she looked up to see Baelin standing over her with a pained expression. “I wanted te tell ye, but I couldn’t. Yer parents, they are Keepers. I understand how ye feel…”

  “Go away.
” She turned her head so that he could not see the streaks of tears that were running down her face.

  He hesitated, as if unsure if he should go to her, then finally turned and walked away. Esra could hear his footsteps retreating and she had a momentary urge to chase after him and tell him that it was alright, that it was all just a big mistake. But although this day seemed unreal, it was happening, and Esra could barely hold on to who she thought she was.

  If they all knew her parents were alive, then this meant her grandparents probably did as well. And that hurt her more than she thought she could bear. The story about her mother’s illness, her father’s hunting accident, it was all a lie. All this time her parents were alive. And waiting to see her. What were they like? Did they know she thought they were dead? Did they leave her with her grandparents because they didn’t want her, didn’t want to be parents? What were they doing at the Stronghold? What were they Keepers of?

  All these questions. She thought that they had begun to answer some of them earlier, but they had just created more. Esra lay down on the ground and sprawled out, breathing in the crisp air mixed with new Plants and old Trees, trying to clear her head. Meshok curled up beside her patiently. I am Esra, and I am strong. She repeated that phrase in her head, willing herself to believe the words. She was still Esra and she was still strong.

  Reluctant to move, she lounged under the canopy of Moss covered branches until her breath slowly started to steady. Unknown Animals scurried about in the brush, gently rustling the dry leaves. Taking another deep breath, Esra thought about how long it had been since she had been alone like this. She usually enjoyed spending time in the forest behind her grandparents’ home, sprawled about in the middle of so much life. It was as if she were watching it grow right before her eyes, could see the leaves of each Tree stretch out to claim its place in the air. A great deal had happened in the past few days, and she was afraid the forest would never be the same. That nothing would ever be the same.

  She tucked a stray piece of her long hair behind her ear and opened her eyes. Esra thought carefully about all of the things she had been told today, about how everything was starting to fit together with Cane’s long winded teachings. She would never have imagined such things had happened in the world, were still happening. But in truth, she was glad to be a part of it. In many ways she had always felt restless in Sorley, like there was more for her than life in a small town. She loved her grandparents dearly, but she sensed that they too were out of their element, like Birds in cages that were too small for them to fully stretch their wings. It had never crossed her mind that they could have lived a different life before, one far more exciting and dangerous than the one they had steadily and purposefully built for their granddaughter.

  Esra turned towards Meshok, who looked at her with concern. “But I’ve never done anything that would indicate I was skilled in magick. Then again, I’ve never tried anything resembling a spell. How does one even cast a spell? Had my…parents… known when they were my age that they were sorcerers?”

  Meshok groaned in answer to her friend’s inquiries. “Then there’s Lara. I thought that her serenity was just a strong character trait, not a force of magick! And what about Baelin? He’s been my closest friend besides Lara and ye. Does he know all that I do, everywhere I go? And more importantly, is he kind to me simply because I’m his “task”, an assignment that has to be completed?”

  Her heart knew that Baelin was a good man, that his words to her had always been honest and true, but her head fought against the notion that he was tainted by his training. Esra was an important package that needed to be delivered safely, and that was all. No, she could not believe that. She would not believe that.

  “What terrifies me more than anything is the thought of my parents. I know ye’d expect that news of them being alive would thrill me. There’d been so many nights that I’d lain awake imagining what I would do if I awoke to find my mother and father sitting at the kitchen table, how happy it would make me. But in reality I feel fairly angry. If the Keepers are so powerful and the Stronghold so secretive, then why couldn’t they have kept me there? Are the demands of a Keeper too much to have the time or energy to raise a child? I’d thought I wanted to know all about my parents, really know what they were like. But what if I don’t? What if they’re arrogant or cold or selfish? Or worse, what if they don’t like me?”

  She pushed these thoughts away for the time being, Meshok staring up at her with a reverent look. “Ye’re right, I need to remind myself that above all else, the Keepers seem to be a force of good. Cane wouldn’t lie to me about that. If he meant me harm, he’s had plenty of years to do it. And as much as I’m reluctant to admit it, I sensed it with the Assembly just now, their good intentions. As they were talking to me I was beginning to respect what they’re trying to do, even though we know little of their ways. Or at least we can certainly know from personal experience that the Elites are up to no good. They weren’t the friendliest bunch. And Cane’s a good person, isn’t he? My parents can’t be awful. I don’t think that a Keeper could be someone who is cruel or uncaring. And until we know more of the story, I’ll try to have an open mind. That’s what Cane would tell me right now, and my grandparents, too. Don’t worry about things ye can’t predict or control, it will only consume ye. Ye can only control yerself. Besides, I’m tired, and it just takes too much energy to stay angry.”

  After a long while, the light started to fade in the forest and she knew that darkness would soon force its way past every opening in the Trees. She woke Meshok, who was snoring contentedly at her side and they both rose leisurely to make their way back to the camp. Birds called out greetings to one another, signaling the end of a long day. It was a long day fer me, too, Esra thought tiredly.

  Reaching the edge of the clearing, she saw that Fynn was cooking supper as Nadia and Arland were in a discussion about what Animal they would like to talk to first if they were Fynn. Baelin sat quietly across from them on the other side of the Fire. Esra walked towards him with Meshok trotting expectantly behind. No doubt the smell of stew had reached her nostrils.

  “I’m sorry,” she took a seat beside her friend as the Wolf went to investigate supper. Baelin gazed at her with a look of relief and wonder.

  “I wasn’t sure ye would ever come back,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t say I’d blame ye. I lied te ye, Esra. When I told ye that I understood. Of all the things I had te learn, all the truths that were uncovered fer me, there was never anything as heartbreaking as being told that my parents were dead. Yer probably wondering who they are, why they left ye, why everyone would lie about it. I can’t even begin te understand what yer feeling, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not yer fault. I just needed some time alone. I know ye think that news like that should make me want to dance fer joy.”

  “No, I’d think it’d be confusing and upsetting. At least at first.” They sat for a long time in silence before Baelin began to speak again, this time so softly that Esra had to lean towards the Fire to hear.

  “My mother died when I was a baby and a few years later my father knew he too was dying and sent me away te the Stronghold. The Jade Gardens are all I’ve ever known as a home. My hands were holding small tools before I could even walk, and it was soon clear that I would be a Keeper of some type of craft. There was nothing I loved more than taking my hands and making something. I remember that even though I was surrounded by people jest like me with special gifts, I still felt alone. Many people had their families with them or they would leave te visit. I had a family in my fellow Keepers, but it wasn’t the same. Fer many years I vowed never te have children of my own. I wouldn’t risk putting them through the sorrow that I had experienced. I felt like someone who was on a path but still had no inclination of which direction I was headed, only that everyone else was going this way and that I was supposed te follow.”

  “I didn’t know,” Esra whispered. Strange that she had never thought to ask him about his fam
ily. He was her closest friend, and yet they had never breached such a topic. It was as if all this time they had avoided any serious discussions because of the unknown power it held. Esra had always been one to guard her secrets, her feelings, even when she was just a small child. Strong emotions confused her. She was never quite sure if she was feeling the way she ought to, or if she shared a small sadness or heavy thought with someone else, they might find her gloomy or petty. It was part of the reason why she refused to make many friends her own age, why she preferred to be alone. But the shadows of loss would still overcome her at indiscriminate moments, making her feel as if she could barely breathe. It frightened her, for she had not known her parents, and couldn’t possibly miss anything particular about them. She shuddered to think how she would deal with losing someone she knew well, like her grandparents. But growing up without her parents had still left a certain feeling in her, an emptiness. She didn’t know how to fix it, this feeling. And she was used to being able to solve problems, like a conundrum Cane plucked out of a book. But if she was experiencing an emotion she didn’t understand, she would rather ignore it than brood over it. To think that all this time she had someone to really confide in, someone who was going through the same thing. She looked at Baelin with a newfound sense of closeness. “I’m so sorry. I thought yer parents were jest in another town somewhere, perhaps where ye had lived before coming to Sorley.”

  “It’s not something I speak of often. Not because it is too painful but because it’s in the past. I respect it fer shaping me into the man I’ve become. I know my parents would be proud of the things I’ve done and the things I hope te do. Looking back, I feel foolish that I didn’t speak te ye about this sooner. Even if ye never said anything about yer parents and how difficult it was, I should ‘ave known. I went through it too and I could have helped ye, talked te ye about it.”