Prodigal Steelwielder (Seals of the Duelists Book 3)

by Jasmine Giacomo

  Kiwani offered a beatific smile. “I want what I have always wanted, Bayan. To go down in history. And I don’t know how I’m going to do that, exactly. Only that I’ll find a way.”

  Bayan’s brow furrowed. “And you don’t think that what we just accomplished is enough to tattoo your name on every Waarden child’s hand?”

  “I want more. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you when I get it. I expect you’ll be right next to me, one way or another. Now come, your distinguished guest is waiting.”

  Disconcerted, Bayan needed a moment to smooth his beads into order before he followed Kiwani into the great hall. He had ordered the dais and its surrounding benches to be constructed more inclusively instead of employing six separate sections, one per element. As he walked down an aisle between the semicircular benches, he spotted a figure on the black dais, his back to Bayan. His visitor studied the seals hanging on a large white ribbon on the wall.

  His visitor must have heard his approach, because without turning, he asked, “What does it mean, this highest symbol? Its significance eludes me.”

  The man’s affected lisp and accent shouted of the Corona, and his regal attire meant he could only be one man: Baltanarmo, Yl Senyecho himself. Bayan’s eyes flicked to Kiwani. “Are you trying to tell me that the emperor of the Corona just popped in, alone, for a visit?”

  Kiwani blithely shook her head. “No, darling. He brought a thousand guards, diplomats, petitioners, and servants with him. Calder made them all wait off the campus while I fetched you.”

  Bayan sniffed in amusement. “Calder is getting a little above himself, don’t you think, now that he’s walking around with a trapped sint in his pocket?”

  Yl Senyecho turned, and his official smile of greeting slipped into concern. “The scarred little man controls a god?”

  Bayan floated to the dais, and Kiwani joined him. “I won’t tell him you called him that, but yes. Why do you think we were powerful enough to defeat your casters?”

  Yl Senyecho nodded sagely. “Of course. The very gods fight for you. This explains much.”

  Bayan grinned. “Some of them, yes. Others, as you know, fought for your side, and still others tried to defeat us for their own reasons. And yet, here we stand.”

  Baltanarmo gulped as if suddenly realizing he shared the room with a pair of predators. “I have come on a mission of peace, I assure you. My conflict was never with the Academy of Duelism, but with your emperor.”

  “He is not my emperor any longer.”

  Baltanarmo bobbed his head. His front-heavy crown slipped down his forehead. “Yes, that is why I have come. I am hoping to avoid further conflict with you, since you have declared yourself an independent force, and one to be greatly respected. I will give you my word, and any tributes and assurances you require, that I shall never send my people against you or those under your protection. I will even furnish your Academy most generously from my own coffers and storehouses, with any exotic materials you require, whether they be building goods, foods, political associations, merchant connections, or more manpower. All I request in return is that you let the events of the past remain a subject for history books instead of table conversation.”

  Bayan met Kiwani’s gaze. She shook her head. He looked at the emperor again. “Are you offering me slaves? Servants bound to my will for life?”

  Yl Senyecho seemed to realize he had erred. He swallowed again and blinked several times. “No, no. Forgive me, this language, it is new to my inexpert tongue. I offer you paid employees with citizenship in my domain. If there is anything you require, let them take care of the matter for you. In any matters you wish to discuss with me, or those in my empire, they may be your emissaries.”

  “And will these individuals be casters?” Bayan asked.

  Baltanarmo hesitated. “If you wish it so, yes.”

  “Yes. I would like half a dozen of your casters to be permanently stationed here at my academy, under my employ. I want them to teach my duelists their ways. In return, we can teach them ours. I hope you’ll find this solution acceptable.”

  Baltanarmo’s full cheeks softened in surprise. “You wish to share magics?”

  Bayan gave him his blackest smile. “As a form of insurance against any future conflicts. Your casters may retain citizenship in the Corona, but they will be subject to the laws we establish here. And I would reserve the right to send any one of them home to you in exchange for a replacement should they fail to follow said laws. Would you be interested in hosting any of my duelists at your training facilities? I’m sure I have several students who are ambitious enough to set aside our differences and learn from the source.”

  Baltanarmo brightened and gave Bayan a gracious nod. “You are most generous and wise, Headmaster.”

  Bayan gestured toward the top, blank seal. “Forgive me. I never answered your question as to the purpose of the top seal. It is the seal representing the rank of hexmage, and it can be shaped to represent whatever the hexmage desires.” The silvery surface of the seal shifted, rippled, took on vibrant color, and sank within itself, resulting in a lifelike three-dimensional image. The view was low to the ground, with small gray stones in the foreground and a meandering creek bed just beyond them. In the distance, hills rose, supporting scrubby trees. The sun was high and bright, and the sky bore only a small swirl of thin clouds.

  Baltanarmo smiled as he examined the image. “In such detail! Truly, the skill of your magic is not to be compared.”

  Kiwani spoke. “Wait until you see what else he’s done.”

  Puzzled, Baltanarmo frowned at the seal. Nothing seemed to move for several moments, then a small, slender red insect skittered into view. It cowered in the shade of a nearby stone and scrambled to the next one. Its antennae flicked constantly, adding to its panicked appearance.

  “What is this? What am I seeing?” Baltanarmo asked.

  Bayan gave the emperor his full attention. “That little red ant is all that remains of the sint you know as Zahira. She is returning to Corona lands, but as you can see, she is small and short, and it’ll take her a very long time. I hope you’ll keep my generous mercy in mind when you make any decisions regarding my Academy. I do hope I’m being clear.”

  Baltanarmo’s tanned skin turned a sickly gray, and his eyes locked onto the terrified little bug. “Zahira. You have seen everything, Headmaster. My soul is laid bare. I… I will consider your advice… She came to kill you. Why did you spare her?”

  He honestly loves that crazy sint. “Because she is alone. She is one of the only sints alive who is not fanatically loyal to the Waarden Empire. In the last moments of the battle, when she did try to kill me, I chose to spare her because, in fact, she and I were, at that moment, exactly alike. Her loyalty is to you. Let it stay that way.”

  Baltanarmo’s eyes flicked from Bayan’s to the seal several times. “I… Thank you, Headmaster, for your mercy and your generosity. My offer remains before you. Please inform me at your convenience whether you wish to proceed with any of my offers, or if there is anything else I may provide for you. Again, a thousand thanks. Now, I beg you, let me take my leave, and I shall not darken your door again.”

  Baltanarmo’s last words were delivered with more haste than dignity, and the emperor gave Bayan a quick bow before fairly skittering down the aisle and hieing across the great seal.

  Kiwani took Bayan’s hand in hers. “Now, that’s what I like to see.”

  “What’s that?

  “A powerful enemy in retreat is a stronger deterrent than a thousand corpses no one will ever see.”

  Bayan took her other hand in his and squeezed. “It seems we may have a very, very long time on this world, Kiwani. Are you sure you want to spend it in these bodies, dealing with people who don’t understand who and what we are, what we can do? Are you sure, beloved, that this is what you want us to—”

  Kiwani kissed him gently. “You are what I want. I will stay with you as long as you stay with me. Let’s take our future togeth
er. You and me. All of us. We are the next rising wave, Bayan. Don’t you feel it? It’s calling.”

  Bayan clutched her hands against his chest. “I do see it. I can see every single instant of our future, Kiwani. I feel it coming with every breath I take. I know what it will do to us. And I don’t know if I want to change it.”

  Epilogue

  Kiwani stepped into the entrance to the hollow sphere hidden deep in the Shadow Canyons. She stood tall and straight, still, waiting for the sint in the prison to remember her. Or not.

  The girl of many skins. You return. Or did you ever leave?

  “Part of me was always here with you. You showed me that certain things were possible, when I did not believe. You helped me. Now let me help you.”

  No help. The eternity of wanting and never achieving. Such were their last words. I had done too much, too much. I would never do anything again.

  “But you did. You changed me. In a way, you showed me I could free myself. Let me free you.”

  No. No freedom. I do not understand it anymore.

  Kiwani clenched her teeth in frustration. She had hoped that the sint’s gratitude would earn her its loyalty, that she could match Calder's pocket god. But the pitiful creature was too far gone, too afraid of living, after having spent so much time not quite dead. She shifted her feet and took a deep breath. “Then, if you will not accept freedom, take my mercy.”

  Mercy? A frail, mortal concept.

  “The other sints had no mercy for you. They tortured you for millennia. You are very broken: they succeeded well. But you do not have to remain in torture forever. Let me ease your pain.”

  I believe you can, girl of many skins. This hope in me, it burns. End me, then. Make me stop.

  Kiwani braced against a sudden sorrow she had not expected to feel. Nothing deserved thousands of years of pain and madness. No sin could possibly be so heinous—and were not the sins of a sint darker than her own? Her heart fluttered at the hint of forgiveness, and she raised her chin, bringing her mind into sharp focus.

  A tiny boon? The question, the warning. I may gift, girl of many skins?

  Kiwani nodded. “Anything you wish to say, I will hear.”

  Our ambitions are twin. To touch the sky is to invite storm.

  Kiwani nodded, unsure if the sint was caught in madness or if that was all it wanted to say.

  Set me free.

  Electric fire shot down Kiwani’s arms. Her neck strained, and her hair streamed back. The walls of the hollow sphere writhed and rippled as she harnessed the magic that had formed the prison millennia ago. The prison resisted her but in such a way that she sensed it too was tired of existing. With a great, final crack, the canyon walls around her rumbled free of their ancient form. A shock wave hurled Kiwani down the tunnel, and she skidded, tumbling. When she came to a stop, she groaned and propped herself on her elbows.

  Smooth stone blocked off the tunnel’s mouth. She approached and pressed her hands against it, sensing with her Earth magic that the stone had collapsed and reformed, filling the gap the prison had once occupied, erasing even its shape from the world.

  “Be at rest,” Kiwani whispered. She sagged against the stone, pressing her cheek against its cool flatness, and listened to the calm silence beyond.

  Free. The word seemed to echo back in time. Or forward. Either way, it hardly mattered.

  Kiwani turned to go. As she willed passage through the maze of canyons, dark, bright thoughts formed in the back of her mind. The sints must see empires as playthings. The world is merely a beach upon which to scratch castles and maps, then chase the waves over it all and begin again. One day, we will be gods to a new generation of mortals. And I shall be their most beloved.

  Kiwani let her feet touch down at the entrance to the last canyon tunnel, where Bayan waited for her.

  “Is it done?” he murmured.

  “He was not ready for freedom. But he did accept my mercy.” She raised her eyes to Bayan, heedless of the startled expression that crossed his face as their gazes met. “The world is different now, Bayan. Let’s make of it what we can, while we can.”

  Her beloved’s arms slipped around her and held her close. “I will go everywhere with you, Kiwani. Even if your eyes are full of darkness and stars.”

  About the Author

  Jasmine Giacomo writes from Washington State, where she lives with her husband and two children. She graduated last millennium with a degree in English Literature from a college built atop a volcano.

  Though she's been writing since the age of four, she also enjoys history, science and games, and holds a black belt in Danzan Ryu Jujitsu. She particularly enjoys reading and writing fight scenes.

  Glossary

  Adrian de Hond: a warmaster in the First Tuathi War

  Akha: a duelist in Kiwani’s duel den

  Aklaa: a Raqtaaq realm on the eastern border of the Waarden Empire, conquered in battle some twenty years past

  Akrestan Scale: the musical scale used for physical transmutation songs

  Akrestan Scale Tower: the dormitory tower where Tala lives at the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies. All six of the Temple’s towers are named after different musical scales utilized in song magic

  Akrestoi: a person from Aeolis, Kallichon, or Pallithea

  Alchazzar: the royal castle of Yl Senyecho, imperial ruler of the Corona, located in Enchamanca

  Aleida Bogaard: a member ofTaban’s hex, she reaches the end of her training and receives an assignment to her first duel den. She marries a Tuathi and lives with him and his father, Iulan, in Katacha, a small border town in Aeolis

  Alini: the nearest village to the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies, it is nestled at the base of a nearby mountain

  Alton: title for a teacher at the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies

  Alton Bessia: Tala’s instructor at the Temple of Ten Thousand Harmonies. She conducts the Solo classes

  Amyntas Ithrakis: the Academy’s Shock Instructor, she holds the rank of Avatar Duelist

  Anakna: the Bantayan word for “daughter”

  Anima magic: a forbidden magic involving the control of living creatures. The Tuathi employed anima casters in their wars against the Waarden, but anima magic is believed to be untenable within the borders of the empire after so many centuries of elemental spells, as if elemental spell residue builds up and prevents the anima magic from coalescing

  Anneke: a noble girl a class ahead of Kiwani

  Antoon de Hond: a warmaster in the Second Tuathi War. His Natal Day is a midsummer Waarden holiday

  Anuq: an Aklaa rebel who was hunted down after his men failed to assassinate Emperor Jaap

  Ashawi: Kiwani’s brother, one of many siblings she didn’t know she had

  Autoglyph: a thumbprint in wax, a memento collected from celebrities by their gushlings

  Avatar: a magical creation formed from a single element. Once summoned into a form of the duelist’s choosing, the avatar will assume that shape every time it’s summoned. It can cast its own set of avatar spells at a duelist’s direction, more powerful than the elemental spells a duelist can create alone

  Avatar Duelist: the second rank at the Duelist Academy, achieved by less than half its students. Avatar Duelists can manifest all six elemental avatars and use them to cast spells, battling other duelists’ avatars instead of fighting directly with their own spells like Elemental Duelists do

  Avilacha: a valio in the northern Corona

  Azhni Bikonya: a Shawnash chanter, formerly in the employ of Wateyo tes’Eshkin

  Balanganam: Bayan’s homeland, containing mountainous uplands and broad, humid river deltas. Balanganam joined the Waarden Empire seven years ago, in 2005 IC, but most Balanganese still consider themselves independent of the empire

  Balang: common term for a person from Balanganam

  Balear: capital city of Valio Avilacha, home to the Altatura Museum

  Baltanarmo: given name for the emperor of the Corona

  Bantayan:
a hardy, social culture, spread across two realms: Balanganam and Pinamuyoc. Its people are characterized by their relatively short stature, social ties, love of food, and tenacity. In Bantayan culture, it is considered the act of a rude little child to tease or insult someone in any way

  Barbarian: common term for a Dunfarroghan, referring to their Tuathi ancestry

  Bas: a Potioneer Savant in Odjin’s cohort

  Battle of the Kheerzaal: a failed assassination attempt on Emperor Jaap by Hahliq and his men—including the emperor’s younger brother, Caspar—on Savitu’s orders. Bayan and his hexmates alerted the palace to the impending attack and were instrumental in saving the lives of Emperor Jaap and his family

  Battle pennant: a long, thin white cloth given to survivors of a duelism battle to mark them as having seen combat. It is attached above a duelist’s sigil flag on the flag stave

  Bayan Lualhati: Bayan is secretly a Duelist Savant. His pursuit of answers on how to handle his unusual magic lead him to further questions about his magic. Duelism’s lost history brings him and his friends both hope and sorrow, resulting in his exile. In the Corona, Bayan takes up with a circus, where he can showcase his exotic magics and meet other “freaks” of magic who challenge his already powerful skills

  Bayan Lualhati Day: the day of the Battle of the Kheerzaal, formalized into an annual holiday by Emperor Jaap to honor Bayan’s courage and heroism. Cancelled before its inaugural appearance on the calendar

  Bayan the Wanderer: Bayan's title as a performer at Cresconio’s circus, because he lost his last name in being exiled and literally wandered into the circus camp