Wizard's Call

by Luna Lais

  "You can come back, but I will not go with you," she said turn hostile eyes towards Makren. "I will knock the castle down around us first." Makren was taken back by the force of her anger. He shrugged his shoulders at Darien's look and continued up the stairs.

  "Lissandra," Eranen snapped, "that is enough. We are not going to kill each other."

  "You will not kill him," she pointed to Darien, "because he is my brother and you know I love him. He on the other hand will not show the same restraint."

  "I will not kill him," Darien said quietly turning to her. "We are friends, despite my better judgment and while the thought did cross my mind I still have need of him.

  "Your promise," Lissandra asked her brother. He only nodded. She turned to Eranen. "You will join me upstairs when you are done?" she asked. He too only nodded a response. Fine let them kill each other, she thought. She turned and march up the stairs. She paused briefly at the top and locked eyes with Eranen before disappearing down a corridor to her right.

  Darien had watched the exchange between the two. Once she was gone he turned back to Eranen. "What was that about," he asked.

  "She is afraid you really will kill me," he said turning his eyes back to Darien.

  "Not that," Darien said heatedly, "I meant the kiss."

  "I must ask that you forgive us for that," Eranen said. "It was the first time in days we had been alone and we could not help but take advantage of such an opportunity."

  "Have you," Darien did not finish the question. He did not want to know. If the answer was yes he would kill Eranen. He was close to that decision now without knowing the extent of their relationship.

  "Yes," Eranen said needing to be completely honest with him. "She insisted once we were married."

  That changed everything, that one word: married. Eranen knew it would. He had not known Darien long, but there was one thing he did know about Darien. He would never hurt his family and that was what Eranen was now. He was family. Darien said nothing he just stared at Eranen a few moments before turning and walking up the stairs.

  "I will go and leave the two of you alone," Kiala said rising as Lissandra entered the room. She had meant to leave right after Makren had told her his sister had arrived, but somehow he had managed to keep her in the room. Lissandra had shown no sign that she recognized Kiala yet, but it was only a matter of time and Kiala did not want to be there when it happened.

  "No," Makren stopped her and took her hands with his. "Not yet it's still early."

  "It will be dawn soon," Kiala said rolling her eyes at him.

  "Then stay up with me and watch the sun rise," he pleaded.

  "We went to bed at dawn yesterday and then rose early to make it to court this morning," Kiala said yawning. "I really am exhausted."

  Makren sighed, "Do you want me to walk you to your chamber?" She almost laughed at the pleading look in his eyes. Every since she had told him about her past, he had been much too protective of her. He had made several attempts since then to tell her about his scars, but she had stopped him. He did not have to relive his pain for her. She knew everything she needed to know about Makren. They were still friends and that said it all. He had not abandoned her, he still respected her and he still cared.

  "No, stay and visit your sister. I will see you at breakfast." Kiala gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she left the room.

  Lissandra had quietly watched the exchange between Kiala and Makren. "You are in love with her." It was a statement, not a question.

  "I love her so much it hurts," he sighed. "I wish things were different."

  "What do you mean?" Lissandra questioned.

  Makren was about to respond when the door opened. "Lissandra," Eranen said, "Let's go to bed, our trunks have been brought in." Lissandra sighed in relief when she saw him. She went to him immediately briefly checking him for injury, which made him laugh. Finding no blood or bruises she wrapped her arms around his waist and walked out of the room with him.

  Makren sat in the room by himself a minute thinking. What would he do if things were different? He sat a few minutes longer rolling the thought around in his head.

  The knock on the door startled Kiala. She had just lay down and wondered if the intruder would go away if she ignored them. "Kiala," she heard Makren call from the other side of the door. Knowing he was the one person she could not ignore she crawled out of her bed and went to unlock the door.

  As soon as she lifted the latch Makren burst into the room. She was standing in her white night gown and bare feet looking very confused. Makren looked at her for only a moment before grabbing her and crushing his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers curled into his hair.

  It took Makren a moment to realize she was not pushing him away. When he did he deepened his kiss and ran his hands down her back. After several minutes he pulled away from her panting. "I did not want one more minute to pass without you knowing that I am in love with you," he said softly.

  "I already knew," Kiala said her eyes filling with tears.

  "Then marry me?" he pleaded.

  "I can not," she said firmly. "You know why," she said at the questioning look on his face.

  "What do I care of others opinions," he said honestly. "Kiala, I am going to die. I want to spend what time I have left with you."

  "No," she a little firmer and then she looked at him confused. "What do you mean you are going to die?"

  Makren had told only Darien about that. How could he just blurt it out like that to Kiala?

  "Sit down Kiala," he said releasing her from his embrace. "It is time for you to hear about my scars." She started to protest, but Makren still her words with his eyes. "Kiala, this is not about you. It is about me," he said. "Please give me the same freedom from my past that I gave you."

  How could she deny him? Telling Makren her past had brought her healing, perhaps Makren needed healing as well. She moved to the chair next to her bed and waited for him to begin. He did not sit down, but stood facing her, watching her. "I was only ten when they came for me," he said softly.

  Makren had been abducted from the home of his uncle. He had been forced to watch his uncle, aunt and their five children die. His youngest cousin was only five. The men had set her on fire and then made bets among themselves on how far she would run before falling. From there he had been taken through the mountains along with nineteen other boys. During this journey they were given no food or water. If a boy fell, he was given only one warning to get up. If he was unable to get up the men would smash his skull with a large iron staff. The bodies of the fallen boys were left to the animals. Makren had only fallen once and only he and four others walked out of the mountains and into the Realm of the Sun. Into a camp where other boys had already began there training. There had been hundreds of boys when Makren arrived, many already on the verge of death.

  The branded process had began immediately upon their arrival. Each of them were stripped and tied faced down to a large stone slab. The intricate design was carved into their backs using a hot knife. This process was repeated weekly, at least for him, for the first three years. Any infraction was punished with a beating and the beatings would distort the design, so at the end of each week the brand was restored.

  His youth was spent in a constant state of hunger and thirst. None of them could wear anything more than a loincloth. Clothes had to be earned and he took him six years to earn that privilege.

  Once he had been staked naked in the desert with four other boys for fighting over a piece of bread. They had been left for three days with no water. The sun burned there skin and the hot sand cooked their backs. He had been the only one alive at the end of the three days. He told her every agonizing detail of his days and how he lay awake at night crying for his sister, Rachel.

  They were taken to the priest for training once they near the age of sixteen. Each had been taught the ways of the Sun Art. It was required that they learn it and quickly. Any boy who had not learned how to
bring forth fire after three months was executed. It had not been easy for Makren and just two days before he was scheduled to be executed he finally learned the secret and produced a little flame. Those who learned the Sun Art were moved from the camp to the temple. The time for their education of the Sun had come.

  The priest had little tolerance for those who could not learn. He had been luckier than most that he could read and write before being taking and therefore he could study the Sun's dictates easily committing them to his memory. At anytime the priest could test a boy on his knowledge. Failing to answering all their questions correctly was punished by having your throat slit in front of the others.

  Sometime during his seventeenth year their numbers dwindled to seven. Things eased after that. As long as you followed the rules anyway. He had been given clothes and his first braid. It was now time to learn of the chosen. Descartes himself had come to each of them and given them a name. From the time he had been taken from his uncle's home until the time Descartes named him he had only been addressed as boy. Descartes named him Arian, meaning light in some ancient language. He had picked up a few words of the language on his own over the years. It was not something they had been taught. They each met daily with the man. He spoke to them, learned their personalities. He was kind to them and after the brutal life they had lead they began to cherish their time with Descartes.

  They were rewarded with women or at least that was what the other six boys called it. The priest insisted they had relations with the women given to them, none asked why. Makren had refused the first woman brought to him. He saw her to be as much of a prisoner as himself. The priest beat him for his refusal. When the next girl was sent and he refused her as well Makren prepared himself for the beating. He had learned enough by that time to know now that there were only seven and all of them had to live. The priest did not beat him a second time. Instead they slit the girl's throat in front of him. He never refused again.

  Makren's heart wrenched as he told her of his last day in the Realm of the Sun. He told her of the prophecy the Acumen gave him and her eyes filled with tears.

  Finally he felt it important to include the events that lead up to him being tossed in the cell below the castle with her. Being home had not brought him peace. Only she had been able to do that. When he finished speaking he bent over and kissed the top of her head, Makren quietly left the room.

  Kiala remained in the chair tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 33

  Lissandra snuggled closer to Eranen and did her best to ignore the knocking at the door. Eranen was of the same mind and tightened his arm around her waist pulling her even closer to him. The knocking grew louder. "Ignore them," he mumbled in her ear. They were exhausted after days of travel and craved sleep. Thankfully the knocking at the door continued only a few moments more before ceasing.

  Lissandra stirred again several minutes later at a new noise. There was a clanging noise in the hall and what sounded like hammering. Eranen rolled over and opened one eye to look at the door. "I miss the barn," he whispered softly. Lissandra rolled over and hugged his back.

  "I did not remember it being so noisy," she said placing a kiss on his shoulder. They managed to block out the new noise and fall asleep again, at least for a few minutes.

  "Bring that back," came a shout from the hall. "You want it, you have to catch me," another voice yelled back. They both listened as footsteps echoed down the hall, until the faded away completely.

  "Whose children?" Eranen asked softly.

  "I have no idea," Lissandra sighed. "I have not lived here in several years." She stretched her arms over her head and yawned. She rolled away from Eranen and nestled her pillow.

  Eranen watched her. She had not pulled the covers up and her entire backside was exposed to view. "What time do you think it is?" he asked her.

  "I do not know," she answered. She lay still for a few moments before turning over to face him. "Are we getting up?" she asked staring at him.

  Eranen raked his eyes over her now visible front, "I would like nothing better than to spend all day in bed with you," he sighed, "but we have a prophecies to fulfill. I am not a noble and know little of such matters, but I think proper protocol is to tell a king you are destroying the main religion in his country and gain his support before you actually do it," he raised his eyebrows and gave her a knowing look.

  Lissandra gave a little pout with her lips before rolling over and getting out of bed. She went straight to the wardrobe and pulled out a blue satin gown. For Eranen she chose a green tunic and a brown cape. Eranen rose and began dressing along side Lissandra. He helped her fasten the dress and was just finishing the last button when a knock sounded at the door. Lissandra ignored the sound and sat down at the vanity to brush her hair. Eranen went to the door and opened it. Seeing Darien standing in the hall Eranen beckoned him inside the chamber.

  Darien took a few moments to look around the room. He had not been in this room since Lissandra had been a child. Everything was just as he had remembered. There was still a shelf running over the door and windows surrounding the room. Lissandra's old dolls were lined along the shelf wearing silk and velvet gowns. A few even wore crowns. The windows were covered in heavy drapes of soft blue. Little gold diamonds spotted the fabric. The white wardrobe was opened, but Darien saw that it was full of both her and Eranen's garments. Not everything had remained the same.

  He looked at the painting that was hung over the mantle of the fireplace. It was a family portrait painted when Rachel and Makren were only two, just before his mother had died. He had forgotten about the portrait. He had forgotten how beautiful his mother was. Lissandra did not remind him of his mother, even though she was beautiful as well. She had the coloring of a Raven; their mother had brown hair and brown eyes.

  Darien glanced at the large canopy bed in the center of the back wall. The coverlet that matched the drapes was lying in a heap on the floor next to it. Sighing to himself, he moved to one of the female chairs with blue cushions sitting in front of the fire. He called it a female chair because the legs were so tiny it looked as if it would collapse under the weight of a man. Lissandra had always been partial to overly feminine furniture he thought slowly easing his weight into the chair. Once he was seated safely he looked at the cold fireplace.

  Eranen followed his lead and sat in the chair next to Darien's. He had tested the chairs the night before and knew they were stable, so he sat down much quicker than Darien had. Lissandra remained on the little stool in front of the vanity, but she had paused brushing her hair to watch the comical sight of her brother sitting down.

  Darien turned to Eranen, "It is nice to have both of you here," meeting Eranen's eyes as he said it. He knew he had not made that clear the night before. He had been in shock and his manners had reflected that. He had not even thanked Eranen for keeping his sister safe and for bringing her home. As her husband he did not have to do that, even more so since Eranen was a Hikirian and they were in Hokaren at the time. He was confident the Queen would not have permitted any use of coercion against one of her subjects in such a matter as this. Even if she and Darien had become friends, her disfavor at the treatment of women in his country was a constant sore spot between them.

  In the bright light of day Darien actually found that their marriage was perfect for his plans. He wanted Eranen on his council, but there was never any guarantee he would accept the position. He had never doubted Lissandra would join the council and now that they were married it seemed more likely that Eranen would be willing to accept. Of course there was the possibility that Eranen would forbid Lissandra from being on the council and take her back to Hokaren, but Eranen did not strike Darien as the kind of man who would order his wife to do anything.

  "It is good that you are here," Eranen said. "We were about to go find you." Eranen could tell that Darien was still having some difficulties with their marriage. Had their positions been reversed he would not have handled it as well. He would
have at least punched the man.

  "First I need to tell you both of what has been happening and my plans to stop it." Darien said. He closed his eyes in thought for a moment before speaking again. Eranen and Lissandra listened as Darien told them of the treachery the Order of Colondone had visited upon the crown and of the mysteries that surrounded Jimreth and Maureen's death. These events along with things happening in Hokaren had led to the belief that the Pearoandorn crown would also be threatened. Darien's solution, at least for Calandoria was a new council and new laws. Then he told them of Makren's prophecy and of the army Descartes would bring over the mountains come spring. He did not tell them all of that prophecy. He refused to believe that Makren would betray him or that his brother would die.

  "You must be mistaken," Lissandra said leaving her seat and moving to stand in front of the fireplace. "Prophecy led both of us to Eranen so the Moon would meet the Sun and therefore the Destroyer would rise. Now I am to believe the Destroyer is not the correct side."

  Darien did not know how to answer her. Eranen rose and wrapped his arm around Lissandra's shoulder. "We are only guessing at the meaning of those prophecies," he said softly. "We do not even know if the Moon met the Sun." His words surprised Darien. Surely after so many weeks Eranen and Lissandra knew what the Moon and Sun prophecy meant.