by Mike Shelton
He passed by the sitting room and noticed that a book his mother was reading earlier that day was sitting out. His eyes welled up with tears again. He walked over, gently picked it up, and put it back in the bookcase without even reading the title.
Numbly, he continued on to his own private room and lay down on the soft bed without removing his white guardian’s robe or his soft leather shoes. He grabbed a lightweight silk blanket and pulled it up over himself, for comfort more than for warmth, then closed his eyes and fell into an immediate, deep sleep.
Hours later, Erryl woke up to the dark night. Still grieving for his mother and trying to understand the sacrifice she had so willingly given, he became determined to find out more about the Orb. Something wasn’t right. It shouldn’t be growing so big.
Being only fourteen years old, he couldn’t boast much in the way of life experience, but he was a curious boy.
Questions filtered constantly through his young mind: Why would guardians not be allowed to leave Celestar? Why did guardians of the Orb die? And, were the protectors protecting the guardians, or were they guarding them? These questions now reached a crescendo in his thinking.
Tonight, he decided, he was going in search of some answers. He got up from his bed and listened at the door. All was quiet. Then Erryl did something he had never done before. He changed into dark clothes, pulled a dark hood over his short hair, then snuck out of his room and into the night.
This close to the barrier, the air always held a glow. Overhead, the stars shone down in a moonless night. The glow from the barrier and the stars was enough light to help Erryl make his way through the streets of the housing complexes. His destination was the Orb.
Growing up in Celestar, he had been well educated. The guardians, apparently, worked better when they were intelligent. Erryl’s learning had brought an increased hunger to learn more—more about the guardians, the Orb, Alaris, and their place in the broader world.
He knew there were more kingdoms around them. Mahli and the other smaller territories to the north, Elvyn to the east, Solshi to the west, and Quentis and Tillimot to the south. He had been taught about all of them.
Peering around the streets and buildings, he once again got the feeling that the guardians were being guarded and held in rather than protected.
The guardians existed to feed the Orb as it protected Alaris. The Orb, however, had always been small, about the size of a large pumpkin. But it had grown in recent months and now even more so in the past few weeks – now the height of a man and almost as wide as it was tall.
Erryl heard the sound of footsteps and slid behind a large column on the front of one of the housing centers, his heart beating wildly. A lone protector walked by without even noticing him. The man seemed to be focused on getting somewhere, so Erryl wondered where. Why would a protector go somewhere with such purpose at this time of night? He followed.
Soon he noticed another protector, coming from the opposite direction, then another. It was becoming harder to hide, so he slowed down and stayed farther back in the shadows. He wiped his wet forehead with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. They were heading into the Orb building.
Among the protectors, Erryl saw Geran, the protector of his sector.
A group of at least twenty protectors entered the small hall next to the room housing the Orb. No one stood guard at the door. There was no need. Nothing bad or dangerous ever happened in Celestar.
Erryl slid in through the door behind the small group and then hid behind some packing crates in the far corner of the room. His heart pounded, and he wiped sweat off his face once again. He scrunched down as small as he could, pulled his hood over his face even farther, and then peered out from the shadows of the crates to where the men stood.
A man Erryl had seen only once stood up in front of the group. He was the head protector or governor of Celestar, as he liked to be called. Naylor Ellian was his name, a tall man with shoulder-length hair and a deep voice. Something in the Governor’s gaze intimidated Erryl, and he tried to make himself even smaller. The man seemed to stare at Erryl’s hiding spot for a moment.
“Protectors, I have asked you here this night for an important purpose.” Governor Ellian paused for effect. “As many of you know, the barrier has been failing. I have received a missive from the Citadel that we are to do nothing about it. In fact, I have been commanded to reduce the number of guardians at each session with the Orb. High Wizard Kanzar Centari wants the barrier to fall.”
Erryl gasped, but it wasn’t heard over the instant murmurings of the protectors.
“Let the barrier fail? How could that be?”
“It has been her for almost one hundred fifty years, protecting Alaris from others.”
“What would the guardians do if it fell? They have no other purpose.”
Governor Ellian took back his control of the meeting. “Soon the Citadel will send battle wizards here to help protect us. They will ensure our safety and the safety of all the citizens of Celestar. Being at the corner of the barrier, we might be in a dangerous situation.”
“Why would he want the barrier to fall?” Geran asked.
The Governor held the eyes of Geran, one of his oldest protectors. “It is time to be part of the world again, Geran. Surely you long to travel and see what else is around us?”
Erryl agreed with the Governor’s reasoning. He would like to see the world around him, as long as he was sure they would be protected. He figured that the Wizard Council at the Citadel had things in hand and would know how to handle this.
As if reading Erryl’s mind, Governor Ellian continued, “The Citadel has control of the situation. When the barrier falls, Alaris should be in position to take full advantage of the situation, and each of you will be called upon to support Kanzar in his plans. I, for one, have pledged my allegiance to the High Wizard of the Citadel.”
Erryl thought it strange that the governor had pledged his support to the High Wizard, when he knew a Chief Judge ruled the land. Celestar had always been ruled through the Citadel, and many, though not all, of the protectors were low-level wizards. But Erryl found it alarming that he didn’t even mention the Chief Judge.
The men nodded at the Governor’s words, and, after a few more instructions, the meeting disbanded. Before leaving the room, the Governor motioned Geran over to himself, and, with a few small whispers, they left the room together.
Erryl followed behind the two and soon found that they were headed toward the Orb. Before even entering the room, Erryl felt the Orb’s power pulsing through him, affecting everything he did and thought.
He had been in this room hundreds of times over the last few months, but each time he was amazed at its brightness. Even at night, the room glowed with unearthly power. A great glass dome stood overhead, and, in the center of the room, the Orb itself sat on a carpet of red.
Erryl watched the two men approach the Orb; its size now dwarfed both of them. As it had grown bigger, the white coloring had become more translucent and iridescent. He could almost make out the shape of something inside the Orb, but not quite. The Governor reached out his hand cautiously toward it.
“Governor,” Geran said. “You know we cannot touch it.”
The ruler of Celestar held his hand in midair. “Why is that, Geran? Why can’t anyone but guardians touch it? Not even wizards are allowed, apparently. Have you ever wondered about that?”
Erryl stayed still, watching them from behind a far column. There were no shadows to hide behind in this room, but he hoped the wide column would conceal his presence. He hadn’t known that wizards were not allowed to touch the Orb. That was something interesting to think about. Some of the protectors were wizards.
“No one knows.” Geran had a thoughtful look on his face. “I suppose it goes back to its creation. Wizards weren’t trusted much after the war. We were sent here to protect it, but only the guardians can touch it and feed its power.”
“But, can you imagine the kind of p
ower it contains inside it now? It is ten times the size it once was. Aren’t you curious?” The Governor’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm.
“No,” Geran said.
“Don’t you wonder why the Orb is growing? What kind of power could we have at our disposal if we could harness it?” The Governor’s eyes grew fervent, and he reached his hand closer to the Orb, his fingers turning white with the reflection.
Geran reached his own hand out to pull Governor Ellian’s back. But, with a flash of his hand, the Governor caught Geran’s hand instead.
“What are you doing?” Geran turned his head.
“What if you touch it first? Then we will know if anything has changed.” The look in the Governor’s eyes turned hard.
“What are you talking about?” Geran struggled to pull away from the governor, but the man’s grip held him firmly.
“I received another instruction from the High Wizard,” the Governor said. “He wanted me to test the Orb…see if we could harness the power.” The Governor moved Geran’s hand closer to the Orb. “I can’t very well test it myself, can I? Not if it would kill me.”
Erryl gasped as he realized what was happening. The sound of this echoed in the room, and the Governor turned around, his eyes scanning the area. Finding nothing, he turned back to the Orb.
Geran brought his other hand out, beginning to form a small spell of fire against his leader. Erryl stood frozen in place. The flame grew larger, but before Geran could release the magic, the Governor pushed Geran’s other hand toward the Orb and held it against the bright surface.
Governor Ellian brought his hand back from Geran’s and took a step away from the Orb. Geran shrieked in agony as his hand burst into flames and fire shot up his arm. A white light burst from the Orb—not unlike when Erryl’s mother had died—and consumed Geran instantly. In moments, nothing was left of the man, and the light folded back into the Orb.
The Governor raised his eyebrows and mumbled under his breath, “I guess wizards still can’t touch it.” With that, he walked out of the room without looking back around him.
Erryl stood still for a moment, reeling in confusion. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about poor Geran. He didn’t deserve to die. What kind of man was the High Wizard to order such a thing? Erryl found himself feeling not very fond of wizards at all—or their plan of letting the barrier fall.
Glancing in quick motions around the room, he approached the Orb himself. He had touched it numerous times before, as part of the ceremony, but could he touch it now? Should he touch it now? was probably a better question. His thoughts turned back to what had happened to Geran. But he was a wizard; Erryl definitely was not.
Why was the barrier failing? he wondered. Would the Orb talk to him again and give him clearer instructions? He took a step closer and felt warmth from the Orb. He felt comforted in its presence. Stepping within an arm’s length from it, he took a deep breath.
He would help the Orb, he decided. Someone had to do it. And he might be the only one who stood in a position to do so. Reaching his hand tentatively out, he saw tendrils of light reach out toward him. He closed his eyes and pushed his hand forward the rest of the way to the Orb. It was smooth against his skin, almost glass-like, but more porous. He realized that he wasn’t being consumed or killed. He took a deep breath and was thankful for that.
Suddenly, into his mind came thoughts and a vision.
Within the blackness of his closed eyes, he saw a picture of a boy. The young man was not much older than himself. His skin was dark, unlike Erryl’s, and his hair was short and curly. He wore glasses over his brown eyes. The figure walked toward Erryl. An older man, with lighter skin and a bushy beard, walked on the boy’s left side. They appeared tired and lost. As the young man came closer, Erryl could see an intelligent intention in his face—but the sadness in his dark eyes almost overwhelmed Erryl.
Find him, and bring him to me, a voice said to Erryl’s mind, echoing the sentiments told to him the first time the Orb had spoken to him. Erryl jerked his head back but somehow was able to keep his hand on the Orb.
“But how?” he whispered out loud. He would do what the Orb wanted, but he needed some direction.
I need him. Alaris needs him. He is the one, the voice continued, deep and clear.
The vision then widened, and Erryl could see the area surrounding the two men much better. They walked in a lightly wooded area next to a large outcropping of rock. To their left, a small stream wound away behind them in a crooked path.
Find him for me. The voice began to fade. Bring him to me, Erryl.
Erryl opened his eyes, and the room dimmed. He removed his hand from the Orb and gazed around in awe and wonder. The Orb had spoken his name. How could that be?
Who was the young man he had to find? How was he going to find him? These and other questions flooded his mind, but one thing remained certain—Erryl would find him. If it was important to the Orb and to Alaris, then, as a guardian, it was his duty.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Bakari rode slumped over Adi’s neck, the horse taking it easy with her tired rider. Kharlia walked beside them, lost in her own thoughts. It had been only a day since their encounter with the bandits. Bak’s energy was slowly returning. He lifted his head and breathed in the fragrance of the forest. The rich soil, pine needles, and the Dunn River all combined into a scent that he was not used to yet, although it was quite pleasant.
“Kharlia?” he called out. When she turned to him and smiled, his heart leapt with joy. “Why do you stay with me?”
“What?” Kharlia’s eyebrows furrowed.
“This might get more dangerous the farther we go. You don’t need to do this.” Bakari looked down at her from the back of the horse.
Her lips tightened, and her eyes flashed. One hand held the reins of the horse; the other one was on her hip.
Bakari didn’t like that look and tried to smile at her to diffuse her anger. He started to apologize but didn’t get very far with his words.
“Bak, we’ve been over this before. This is not just your fight. I know what I am getting myself into, and I choose to be here on this adventure with you.”
Bakari laughed. It felt good. He wasn’t laughing at her, in a mocking way, but the fierceness of her loyalty to him and to their mission made him happy. She tried not to smile but soon broke into a giggle with him.
Kharlia pushed her hair behind one ear and began walking again. “Don’t think you’re all that special, Bakari. I’m still mad you would ask me that again.”
Bakari couldn’t keep a wide grin from his lips. “I promise to never ask that again. My brain isn’t fully awake yet.”
“Humph” was all Kharlia said, but her smile matched Bakari’s. After a few moments, she asked, “Does doing magic always make wizards tired?”
Bakari thought back through all he had studied on the subject over the years. He sifted out and pulled together the information and thought about her question.
“Bakari,” Kharlia prodded, “I’m not asking for a dissertation, just your opinion.”
“Sorry,” Bakari mumbled, then spoke louder as he said, “Personally, the only times I’ve been tired after using magic were the two times I communicated with animals. My normal scholarly studies don’t cause too much strain. However, many wizards feel a period of fatigue or hunger after performing complex spells or magic. The energy that the body expends during moments of magic needs to be replaced by either sleep or food. However, in the specific case of Roland, the counselor apprentice from Cassian, he tells me that he never tires and thinks he has more power than the rest of us.”
“That’s one long opinion.” Kharlia laughed to not upset Bakari.
“Well, I am used to studying and not quite as used to talking to a pretty girl,” he said back. He didn’t know why he had said that. Maybe he was still weak and not thinking properly. Maybe he should just stay quiet, until he could gather his thoughts better.
“Bakari, I think you’re bl
ushing.”
“No, I’m not. How can you tell, anyway?”
“Your ears get darker, and your cheeks flush a deeper brown.”
Not wanting to talk more on that subject, Bakari changed it. “Do you want to ride with me for a while? We need to move faster, and, at some point, I think we will need to cross the Dunn as we move farther north.”
Bakari sat up straighter and reached his hand down to Kharlia, pulling her up behind him. He smiled again and breathed in her sweet scent.
No sooner had she hopped onto the horse than a ruckus ensued on the other side of a nearby thicket. The horse whinnied and stopped and wouldn’t go any farther. A deep-voiced yelling also ensued. Two wild boars, about the size of a dog, ran out onto the path in front of Bakari and Kharlia. Then the animals took off down the path in front of them.
Soon a large man with bushy hair and a beard ran out of the bushes to their left and continued running toward the boars. In his hand, he held two long sticks with a net stretched between them. As he neared the boars, he threw the net high into the air, and it landed on one of the boars, trapping it inside. The other one escaped back off into the bushes.
Bakari and Kharlia trotted a few steps closer to the man and then stopped to watch the rest of his activity. He pulled out a long knife and, with a steady hand, cut across the neck of the wild boar, as if to be careful to not cause the animal any prolonged pain. He then proceeded to take the net off. Only after all this did he turn around and look at the two of them.
He did a double take and rubbed his hands over his full beard. “Well, my, my. Don’t see a lot of young people out in these parts, all alone. You kids lost?”
Bakari felt Kharlia stiffen behind him. But he didn’t know what to make of this wild man and stayed silent.
The man walked closer to them and stuck out his hand. “I mean you no harm. Name’s Harley, it is. Harley Habersham. I know it’s a mouthful, so most folks call me Har or Harley.”