The Spell Speakers

by Day Leitao

  Spell Speakers

  A Whyland Intro Novella

  Day Leitao

  Copyright © 2018 by Day Leitao

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  Cover design by Rebecacovers

  Cover illustration by Xilveroxas

  Contents

  1. Meeting fate

  2. A New Beginning

  3. Within Walls

  4. Training

  5. The Ball

  6. Sian

  7. Wrestling with feelings

  8. The Audience

  9. Cayla’s Resolutions

  10. Darian’s resolutions

  About the Author

  1

  Meeting fate

  Darian turned fourteen that day. He got something better than a party—a trip to a council of leaders. His village was small and isolated, in a valley surrounded by hills, and he rarely left it. His mother, Bianca, was the leader of the village, and Darian accompanied her for the first time, excited to learn what the leaders discussed. They traveled in a wooden boat, rowing through the currents of streams and then a river. Darian wore pants and a long-sleeved tunic in a light fabric, which kept him cool. On his neck, he wore a necklace his mother had given him with a yellow stone so bright it seemed to shine in the dark. His mother wore its twin.

  A whoosh in the sky made him shudder. A lift—a flying machine. It would have been a symbol of progress if it didn’t belong to the army, and if the army didn’t threaten villages like Darian’s.

  “Don’t worry. They didn’t see us,” his mother said.

  Darian remained alert, but as the hours went by and no other lift was heard or seen, he relaxed. They reached their destination at night. Darian’s big brown eyes opened wide, staring at the stars and the bright full moon in a cloudless sky. A hopeful sky. The air was hot and humid as was usually the case this time of the year.

  The forest seemed empty. “I don’t see anything. Where’s the meeting?”

  His mother put her hand over her lips and then walked in front of him, making no noise on the ground. He tried to do the same, but he still had no talent for silent steps. They followed the banks of the river, walking for many minutes, until they came to a large waterfall.

  She smiled. “You’ll have to get wet now.”

  Darian wondered if they were going to swim, but no. His mother went to the edge of the waterfall, and holding onto the rocks, moved towards its middle, under the main water drop. A protrusion in the rock shielded them from the main waterfall, but the spray was still enough to soak him. Well, it was hot anyway. Soon they came to an opening to a cave. Seven people sat around a fire either directly on the floor or on mats or pillows.

  A woman with long, gray hair spoke. “And Bianca’s finally here!”

  “I’m right on time,” his mother replied. “But I apologize if you expected the meeting to start early.” She pointed to Darian. “I brought my son.”

  Her voice was soft, soothing, like from the time she told him stories and made him sleep. But this time her voice didn’t make him want to sleep, it rather just comforted him and made him feel at peace. He wondered if anyone else felt the same.

  There were three men and four women. Five, counting his mother, who was the youngest there. They each spoke at a time, talking of the king’s army, and how it had been closing in on villages like theirs. Darian knew about it. His village was among the ones that preserved old knowledge and traditions, choosing to remain hidden or isolated with little contact with the larger cities of Whyland. They worshiped the forces of nature, the inner strength, and the strength of mind, personifying different forces with gods and goddesses. Not that it made a difference whether or not they were real. The truth had been broken into little pieces and translated into stories and metaphors because that’s how humanity understands the world.

  But the king had forbidden magic. Not only that, he accused villages like Darian’s of being rebellious and siding with Lylah, who he claimed was a powerful witch. She was in fact a deposed queen, probably already dead. All this talk about an evil powerful witch seemed only to be an excuse to justify extreme actions against innocents. Whyland’s army, instead of protecting its people, started to repress them. The time had come to plan a way to resist, a way to survive. That was what the meeting was about. Darian was eager to learn more and to understand what part he could play in all this.

  The leaders had similar ideas about union and armed resistance. The woman with the gray hair suggested independence. His mother heard them with calm eyes and attention to each speaker.

  Hers was the last turn. She said, “To fight is honorable. Not to fight is also honorable. I know our strength and I know we can resist the army, but I don’t know for how long. If we leave our villages and confront the king, we’ll be exposing ourselves. More than that, there will be bloodshed.” She glanced at Darian so fast it was almost imperceptible, but he noticed it. “And a dreadful future for our children. In the name of what? Pride?” Her voice was almost hypnotic, and Darian could swear it took shape and cast a sparkly, illuminating cloud in the room. “We can resist. But we can resist differently. Our beliefs are deeply rooted in our culture. They are deeply rooted in our way of thinking. We don’t need to parade them. We don’t need to defy the army, defy the king. We can pretend. We can hide our symbols. We can even pretend we are doing what they want us to do.”

  “Never!” A voice interrupted her. It was a bearded man, the oldest person there. His interruption was like waking from a pleasant dream. “We are not cowards.”

  Darian noticed the calm with which his mother looked at the man and how he seemed to have lost his speech. “I agree,” she said. “We are not. We are brave. And, yes, we are proud. Our day will come. The king’s reign is falling apart. One day we’ll be able to fight back. This is not the time. The army has been getting stronger, with more and more flying machines. If one of them decides to burn down our villages, we won’t be able to resist. If we want to fight them, we'll need bigger allies and a bigger plan. We’ll need to keep meeting and keep planning. Meanwhile, we wait. We bid our time. Our time will come.”

  The words kept ringing in Darian’s ear. Our time will come. He realized that was why his mother had brought him. He realized he had a part to play. He took a deep breath. His path, his future, all of a sudden, got clear.

  The leaders then voted by casting stones in a basket. A black stone meant waiting. A white stone meant war. His mother had been the only one who had proposed to wait. He was sure there would be an armed conflict. Each of the leaders put a stone in a basket that was placed in the center, with a small hole on the lid, so that nobody saw what was in there. When they opened it, there were seven black stones and one white. His mother’s plea had won by a large majority. The power of words, or perhaps the power of the way words were said, was one of the lessons he learned that day.

  The gray-haired woman said, “If that’s what has been decided, we need to plan our next steps.”

  Darian’s mother said, “I have an idea.” She smiled. “A few, in fact. We—” She stopped and perked up, eyes wide. “We need to hide,” she whispered.

  But it was too late. Sounds could be heard outside the cave. Darian’s mother approached him and handed him a dagger. “If necessary,” she whispered.

  His heart beat fast. He had no idea what was happening and who was coming. A few seconds later, five people traversed the waters of the waterfall. Their clothes were dark blue, the colors of the army, and three had fi
reguns in their hands. Those weapons, Darian knew, could shoot fire from a distance. They were pointed at him and the leaders.

  Darian’s mother stepped in front of him. “Stop,” she said. “We have more people than you.”

  “So what?” A woman from the army replied. “We are armed.”

  “Weapons down,” a thunderous voice said as a man in his forties with graying blond hair emerged from the waters.

  The soldiers obeyed.

  “We don’t care what kind of magic or witchcraft you are doing,” he said. “I don’t give a crap. We are looking for a gang of thieves.” He looked at his mother and the other leaders. “Perhaps you’ll be able to help us.”

  The gray-haired woman said, “Do we look like we keep company with thieves?”

  “No,” the man from the army replied. “But you could have seen something.”

  The leaders looked at each other, and then at the man. Some shook their heads. Bianca then said, “If we do see anything, is there a way to contact you?”

  “We’re flying around the area,” the man said. “But here.” He threw something in her direction. It was a silver disk. She caught it. “If you press it, it will open a communication channel with us. But be careful. And don’t travel alone.”

  “We will, thank you,” she said.

  The man turned to the other people from the army. “Out of here.”

  They disappeared as quickly as they had come.

  “Liars!” the bearded leader said. “They’ll come back with a bigger force. Or worse, they’ll follow us. We should have killed them all.”

  “No,” Bianca replied, “he was saying the truth.”

  The man snorted. “You’re going to defend them now? Maybe you told them our location. How could they have found us? We know how much you like men from the army—”

  “Shut up!” Even Darian was surprised at his shout. Everyone stared at him. “Maybe they are lying, maybe they aren’t. They must have seen one of us. We leave here, and if we’re careful not to be followed, we won’t have any problems.”

  The bearded man ignored Darian and turned to his mother. “I’m not going to be lectured by a bad seed like his father.”

  Bianca was serene. “You don’t have to. We were leaving.” She turned to Darian. “Let’s go.”

  He followed his mother out of the cave, wondering what the man had meant by bad seed. His father had died before he had been born. Darian knew near nothing about him and had always heard it didn’t matter.

  The night had cooled. Crickets chirped in the distance. As Bianca untied the boat, Darian gathered his courage and asked, “What did he mean? About my father?”

  “He was trying to offend you, that’s all. When people do that, the best way to irk them is to continue to be calm.” She laughed.

  “And you really think the soldiers mean no harm?”

  “I do, Darian. I saw no ill intent in them. If anything, they would like to protect us. Well, that’s their duty.”

  Bianca stopped, alarmed. Darian looked around. He didn’t hear or see anything. She sighed, but still seemed worried. She tossed Darian the silver disk, then whispered, “If something happens. There might be indeed thieves or killers in these woods. I’ll go take a look.”

  “No,” he said. “I’ll come with you.”

  She looked at him, seemed to change her mind, and said, “Let’s get on the boat and get out of here fast.”

  They had barely started moving the boat towards the river when a strong boom startled Darian. He looked around to see where it had come from and saw two men coming from the woods.

  His mother picked up a large branch from the ground and turned to Darian. “Run. Run away. Go to the river. Save yourself.”

  He wouldn’t do that. He ran towards her instead. Another strong sound was heard. His mother fell backward but got back on her feet. A third man was coming towards them. The men were dressed in brown and black leather and didn’t seem to belong to the army. Darian’s mother looked at Darian with calm but commanding eyes. “Save yourself.”

  Darian froze, then remembered the silver disk. He pressed it, unsure of what it would do. He wasn’t even sure if these men weren’t related to the army, considering one of them had the same kind of weapon the soldiers had.

  “Kill her,” one of the men said.

  “And the boy?” another man asked.

  “Also. Or he’ll recognize us.”

  Darian took the dagger his mother had given him, but everything happened too fast. Fast and slow, because each millisecond would be registered forever in his mind. Bianca swung the branch around her, keeping the men away, and keeping them from reaching Darian. He couldn’t move and help her with all the swinging she was doing. The firegun settled it, as another shot reached his mother. She stepped back. Blood dripped from her chest, but she stood her ground and turned to Darian. “Run.”

  At that moment, one of the men approached her and, with a knife, reached for her neck. She was fast enough to dodge it and to drop him to the ground. But that allowed another man to take aim at her. Darian tried to run towards him, but a different man dropped him to the ground. He had a knife coming in Darian’s direction. Another boom and the man fell over Darian. With great effort, Darian pushed the body from him and saw that four of the army people were immobilizing the two other men. His mother lay on the ground and said, “My son, my son, my sons.”

  A woman sat beside her. “Hush, don’t strain yourself.”

  Darian ran to his mother’s side. His sight was cloudy. He held her hand, which was a mess of blood and dirt. He wished he could have done things differently, that he could have saved her, that he could have fought.

  Bianca was calm and smiling. That gave Darian hope. She looked at him. “My son, my son. Go to your father. Find him. You need to tell him. Tell him I’ve always loved him.” She breathed out and then no longer in. Her eyes were lost somewhere.

  “Mom, mom, mom. Answer me.” Tears ran in Darian’s eyes.

  The woman from the army touched Darian’s arm. “She’s gone. To a better place.”

  That couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. He hugged his mother and sobbed. The light on his necklace faded, and the stone, which had been yellow until then, turned to black.

  2

  A New Beginning

  Since his return, Darian had stayed with a middle-aged couple, Larah and Saul. Their house, like most houses in the Northern hidden villages, was made of wood with a large common area in the middle and small bedrooms or other rooms surrounding it. Darian occupied one of these rooms, but he didn’t want to remain there forever. Perhaps he should go back to his house and live on his own or leave the village and start a new life. He just wasn’t sure where. He felt like a burden, a person without a place in the world.

  That afternoon the new leader, Leena, visited the couple. Darian pretended to sleep in the bedroom, knowing she’d come to talk about him. He went to the door and rested his ear on it.

  “The boy,” Leena said. “He can’t remain here with you.”

  Saul said, “Actually, we thought about it. He’s helpful and kind. We could raise him until he’s old enough to go on his own. It would be a pleasure.”

  “I know you’re attached to the boy,” Leena said. “Who isn’t? But this is not our decision. He has a living father.”

  Darian felt his heart beating.

  “Father?” Larah asked. “More like monster. She ran away from him for years. She hid the boy. For what?”

  Darian couldn’t believe those words.

  “This is not my choice,” Leena said, “but Bianca’s. I made her a promise.”

  “I see what you’re saying,” Saul said, “but the boy should be heard in this matter.”

  His mother’s last wish. It made sense now. Darian opened the door. Leena and the couple looked at him, surprised. He said, “Thank you, Larah. Thank you, Saul. I have no words to describe your kindness and love. But my mother’s last words,” his voice cracked, “were to
find my father.”

  Darian left behind everything he had ever known. The trip to the capital, Siphoria, was long. They had walked for days to the Great River and were now on a passenger boat heading south. Darian had been trying to get more information from Leena, but she offered nothing.

  “And you won’t tell me who my father is?”

  “Meet him first, then you can learn what he does.”

  There was another question—maybe he shouldn’t ask it—about something he’d heard. He had to ask it. “Why would Larah say he’s a monster?”

  “He and your mother didn’t get along in the end. Your mother didn’t want to see him. But that doesn’t mean he’ll be a bad father to you.”

  “And why didn’t my mother ever tell me?”

  “She would have told you. One day.”

  Darian sighed. It wasn’t anxiety or fear. He only wanted to know what he was going to do, where he was going to live, what his life would be like. Leena told him none of that. Like the river they followed, he couldn’t see where it led. And there was this emptiness in his chest.

  He touched the two necklaces with the black stones under his shirt. At least he was doing what his mother had asked. “Tell him I love him,” she’d said. A strange thing to say if she’d been hiding from his father for years.

  As they reached the Silver River and neared the capital, more and more villages appeared, but they were nothing compared to Siphoria. Darian had never seen anything like it. Streets, houses, and people spread further than his eye could see. There were flying machines in the sky and carts transporting people on the ground. He wondered where he was going in this great city, but they didn’t remain there. Instead, Leena led him to the other side of the Silver River, to the King’s castle.