by Thomas Adams
She looked pensive suddenly. Kyrr felt the indecision and fear through her hand. He squeezed her hand gently and tried to project strength for her. He really didn’t know what they were talking about but he never wanted her to be sad or afraid. She obviously felt he was trying to cheer her up and smiled up at him again. Her countenance grew happy once more. He could smell her perfume suddenly. It was exotic, a little flowery and a little musky and totally enticing all at the same time.
He felt a memory easing into his mind, a memory of something familiar but then suddenly, it was gone. He noticed her full pouty lips and high cheekbones and the slight flush of color, her arched eyebrows and impossibly long eyelashes. Her eyes danced with joy and he could see the golden specks floating in the sea green. He wanted to kiss her.
The look on his face gave her pause. She slightly tilted her head side to side. She mouthed ‘no’ to him. The feeling passed, reluctantly. She grinned again and they moved further into the hall. But, why was he so drawn to her? Were they promised to one another? The thought slipped into his mind from out of nowhere. Was it possible?
He suddenly stopped. His face was pale all of a sudden and she glanced up at him in alarm. Then, his heart sped up and the great warmth spread through him again, stronger than before. This woman beside him, this fantastic beautiful girl, she was the one in his dreams almost every night. That meant something. He knew her somehow and now he knew that he knew. It was a memory at last. He needed to learn more from her. This was his great chance to uncover his past.
“What is it?” She asked with sudden alarm. Aravin gazed at them with curiosity. His staff held loosely in his hands. Kyrr turned towards her and took up her other hand as well. They were in the hall now and people were staring at them. He saw the looks of confusion on some faces, especially those who knew him as just some nameless orphan. They were looks of disbelief and outright confusion. Master Ivar was watching them closely from the head table. The prince, her father, was there also and he stared at his daughter and Kyrr, a supposedly unknown and nameless boy escorting his daughter, his expression was curiously unreadable.
“I just now remembered something Yfiria. A memory, something from my dreams, you see, every night I dream of a girl. This girl has blue green eyes with tiny speckles of gold throughout. She loves to tease me. Those are your eyes. I dream of you every night but can never remember what I dreamt of when I wake. Now I know though, it is you in my dreams! You have been with me all along and I just now realized it.”
Her smile was angelic and warmed his heart. For years he had been frustrated, lost and baffled, and angry, all because he had no memory. He was the butt of numerous jests and an object of scorn and derision by many in this Hall tonight. But now maybe, that was about to change! For the first time since he could remember, since coming to Tanic and Castle Reave, he finally had some insight into his past and maybe this new found knowledge would lead to his memory returning. He hoped so with every fiber of his being. And, Yfiria was responsible for this tiny shard of his memory returning. He was connected to this girl somehow. He could feel it.
As they sat together at the high table and ate the meal’s first courses she asked, “Brandt, tell me about your daily activities and schedule. What does a normal day look like as a student in the Guild?”
“Well, it really varies day to day. But normally we are up before dawn to cleanup and have first meal.”
“So early, that must be hard,” she observed.
“No, not really and I am used to it now. It has been our way for years. After first meal we do some warm up exercises and physical conditioning or strength training. Then we always have and hour or two of sparring and drills in sword, axe or dagger. Sometimes we do special weapons training and drills or combat formation drills.”
“That sounds just exhausting.”
“It can be. Then we have mid-meal and the afternoons are usually devoted to classroom work or other specialized training. We also have other duties related to keeping the fortress and Guild running smoothly. I work in the forge after last meal. Others have other chores for example, maintaining the fortifications or engines, cleaning, helping in the kitchens or stables and so forth. Everyone helps out somehow. On top of that we may have guard shifts at night as well.”
Yfiria frowned, “You work in a forge? No personal time? And, very little sleep?”
“Sometimes we get a few minutes during the day to do whatever we like. But usually we are kept busy. Sleep can be hard to come by sometimes. Everyone closely guards their sleep time,” he chuckled as he said the last.
“Well, I guess that is why the krigers are the best. It is a very rigorous schedule. What is the specialized training?”
“Oh, it is all sorts of things, horseback riding and mounted formations, taking care of your mount, tactics and strategies, field craft, basic healing for wounds and sicknesses, climbing, snow skiing, patrolling, archery or spear work. Stuff like that.”
“Impressive. You can do all of those things?”
“It is required; the Runa mandates all students must master all skills.”
“I have heard of the Runa of Syndros. I have never read it though. What is it?”
“I am not surprised. No copies of the Runa are allowed outside of the Halls. The Runa is a regime of techniques and manual of arms that all students must study, learn and master. The Hall trials for sword or axe test a student’s knowledge and skills, skills they should have learned from the Runa. If you pass your trial you become a Master.”
“I see. Will you become one, a Master?”
“I am sure. A few more years and I will be ready to face the trials.”
She smiled at him, “You are good with the sword?”
“Aye very, Master Ivar says so as well,” he grinned.
The remainder of the evening was a fantastic blur to Kyrr. There was dancing, which at first terrified him but somehow he muddled through with Yfiria’s help. And, holding her close in his arms as they danced was simply the best thing ever. It was fascinating to be close to her and hold her hand or rest his hand on her waist. There was something familiar about it but also something new and exciting as well. The warmth of her touch, the faint blush on her cheeks, her smell was intoxicating and the glances she gave him beguiled him to no end.
There were more courses of food, pies and cakes for desert and there was also ale and wine. But he drank sparingly as he was not used to alcohol. The students did not drink ale or spirits at Reave Hall. He studied her as she ate and drank and tried to memorize everything about her and everything she said.
The central theme for Kyrr that night was Yfiria; she was always at his side as they talked with her father, with Master Ivar, the chancellor or the many other attendees. She introduced him to her ladies and he even danced once with each one. She remained close by, seated next to him as they ate, holding his hand as they walked, or in his arms while they danced. She never left his side.
The conversation was light and playful and he found himself completely captivated by this young lady. He cherished every second he spent in her company. She was so easy to talk to and such a great entertainer and companion. He felt as if he had rediscovered a friendship with an old acquaintance, something he had never had at Reave Hall.
She made him feel like the most important person in the room. He never felt ill at ease or out of place with her. Her effortless grace, sophistication and charming comportment always made an awkward situation seen trivial. She constantly asked him questions and kept him engaged. She said she wanted to know all about the years he’d spent at Reave Hall. So, he told her as much as he could remember.
By the end of the feast they were both tired but neither wanted to leave. Kyrr was enjoying Yfiria’s company but he also had many questions for her as well. It seemed he never had the chance to ask her about their past and her life. And, it was getting late and her father’s looks in their direction warned him off.
She seemed to also get the same message and he kne
w their time together this evening was coming to a close. They took a final dance and she stared into his eyes for a long time and that directness made him a bit uncomfortable and self-conscious but he could not fault her. Afterwards they said their formal goodnight at the top of the stairs outside the hall. He brushed his lips to her hand and warmly thanked her for the invitation and the pleasure of her company this evening. He bid her good night and made for his barracks, frequently glancing over his shoulder at her.
***
Yfiria stood with Yfellia at the top of the staircase and watched him go. It was a perfect evening and she was lost in thought, going over the evening’s conversations and events. She thought it had gone very well, almost perfect in every regard.
She knew she had monopolized the evening’s conversation and carefully guided their interactions but she felt it best. She could sense he had questions he wanted to ask her but felt it best if their reunion avoid the topics that would be potentially sad and disconcerting for both of them, at least for this first night. The hard stuff would come on the morrow.
They were well matched in temperament and disposition. She found his company to be quite enjoyable. Even without his knowledge of their past, his training at Talfur and his current rough lifestyle he was still a kind, thoughtful and well-mannered young man. He was not full of conceit, arrogance or condescension. It was a welcome change from almost all the young men she knew from her father’s court.
In all, despite everything that had gone wrong, he was much the same as when he was at Talfur. But, there was a bit of darkness there. She could sense it; there was loss, hurt, pain and loneliness. He was changed in this regard and much more reserved and wary than he had ever been before. She wiped quickly at the tears and turned to her cousin.
Yfellia said smugly, “Why the tears? You certainly made an impression on him tonight. He couldn’t take his eyes off you all evening. His memory problems aside, either he will soon remember you or he will fall in love with you all over again.”
“Thank you Yfellia, I hope you are right. The tears are for our youth and shared memories lost… and for the pain his duty and destiny has inflicted on him, on both of us I guess. It is no matter though. Hopefully all will be restored. Are you ready to retire?”
“I am, it has been a long day.”
“It has, I thank you for all your help this last fortnight. I know I have not said it enough. If I win him again it will be to all of our benefit. Radnja needs him. I need him too.”
“Aye Yfiria, I agree.” Yfellia murmured.
***
High Mage Lutvar met the beautiful and deadly Narasist in the ancient deserted city of Kroya. Kroya was an enigma. It was several hundred years old but had been abandoned around a hundred years ago. Supposedly, after an outbreak of the plague, thousands of residents died and the remaining people fled the city. As time passed its reputation as a cursed place grew and it was shunned and feared.
Many people from Crestia and the province believed it still housed great disease and was haunted by the dead plague victims. It was now called the Dead City. The empire tried on several occasions to repopulate the city but the taboo and stigma persisted and most residents ended up back in the capitol a moon or two later. Usually, after having pocketed the silver the Imperium provided as a relocation incentive.
The stories and legends did not stop grave robbers, thieves, outlaws, stone cutters and other schemers from preying on or hiding in the deteriorating city. Of course, the grave robbers had already plundered all of the richer tombs and mausoleums years ago. A few still poked around looking for scraps or hidden caches though.
Stone cutters would risk the ghosts and plague to steal loads of already cut and dressed marble, granite and sandstone from the city’s outlying buildings. Why cut, dress and ship rock from quarries days away when there was a ready source within a few hours wagon ride? And, thieves and brigands would sometimes hole up in the old city and use it as a raiding base. It was close to two major trade roads. Every few years the Emperor was forced to send in a couple of cohorts from one of his elite legions to slay the robbers or drive them off and scatter them.
Lutvar chose the site since it was only a two hour ride from Crestia and it was usually deserted. He hired fifty spearmen from a foreign mercenary company to setup security around an old temple near the center of the city. The building was large enough and mostly intact still. It was a testament to Imperia’s engineering capabilities. This was where he’d moved a large contingent of magi and enacted the rituals that Gullvayg directed he perform to crack open the Void. He also moved twenty five slaves to the building to cook and care for his brothers and for the guards. It would be their base for this work, away from the spies and rumors of Crestia.
Now, he was meeting his most dangerous Narasist in one of the rooms he picked for his own use during his infrequent visits. The Narasist was atypical of the others he’d come across over the years. This one was a beautiful woman named Aelia. Her golden skin, black hair and classical lines were perfection personified. And, her emerald eyes stood out and added a sense of the foreign and exotic to her appearance. He, as most other men, found her most enticing and totally irresistible. However, he did not mix business and pleasure with this one. She was a killer after all and he was very wary of her.
In his dealings with her he’d discovered she was a no nonsense lady. He liked that about her and he’d kept her hidden from the prying eyes around the capitol. Very few knew her real talents. Everyone thought she was a very exclusive courtesan. It was a great cover for her real job, which was killing off the rich, famous and difficult to reach persons the emperor needed dead. When Titan discovered Lutvar took his command literally and sent all the Narasists to Vesfalruk he’d an apoplectic fit. Lutvar didn’t tell Titan he’d not sent her.
Titan recovered though and eventually thanked Lutvar for following his orders to the letter. He also directed Lutvar, now the de facto spy chief as well as High Mage, to find a replacement for the gorgeous assassin as soon as possible. Titan sometimes needed to dispatch a powerful or uncontrollable subject and assassination by gorgeous killer was one of his favorite and more successful ploys.
As she entered the chamber Lutvar eyed the lush curves of the lovely assassin. She was likely the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. He sighed and said, “I need you to perform a task, quietly seek out Primus Legatus Kho and kill him.”
She remained still as a statue and said nothing. She just looked at him with a calm and level gaze.
“I will provide you with a suitable method to enter the city and a small detachment of guards for escort once you arrive.”
She gave a hint of a smile and softly said, “I work alone. No guards please.”
“As you wish. I will provide you with the means to access Kho’s villa by sending Kho word of a ‘gift’ to arrive exactly in a sennights’ time. You are the gift of course and he will not refuse.”
The woman just looked through him and made no comment on his method of employing her. Lutvar could not tell if she was angry or just did not care but he had the impression she was not happy about the task. But, he knew she was a professional and would do her duty. Her silence and apparent indifference was a front, a tool she used to put people at ease and to remove all suspicion. Lutvar knew she saw everything and was fully aware of her environment.
Once all the details were worked out he dismissed Aelia and prepared to retire for the evening. Tomorrow was a big day. He planned a major new enchantment to attempt the breach in the Void. He knew this attempt would be successful. It had to be because Gullvayg was becoming increasingly displeased with the lack of progress on his attempts to breach the Void.
***
It was a typical Eastern Vesfalruk summer day, warm but tempered by the high altitude and proximity to mountains. A gentle wind from the north caressed the snow covered peaks of the White Mountains then swept down over the valley and fortress and kept most of the summer heat at bay. The mornings were s
till cool so Yfiria wore a light cloak to offset the early morning chill air. The sun was just rising. She could not believe the schedule the students at Reave Hall kept. They had been up and working and practicing for hours already.
She silently crept through the shadows of the covered walkway towards the sounds of training; shouts, oaths, cries of pain and the constant clacking of wooden and metal practice swords. It was loud, brutal and unnerving she thought and she was well acquainted to similar noises from her father’s barracks. The main difference here was the age of many of the practitioners. Many, in her mind, were just children. She was not sure she agreed fully with the measures used by the Guild.
But, this was the strength of Vesfalruk, their Guild Halls and the krigers they trained. She had to remind herself that for Vesfalruk and hence Radnja, it was the difference between freedom and slavery. The fortitude and skills of the people she now watched may one day be called upon to hold their mortal enemies at bay. Nonetheless she hated the thought of what went on here. Everyone knew the training was exacting and the conditions were almost barbaric. Many called for the closing of the Guild Halls. She knew this would be a mistake but had difficulty reconciling the reality of the Guild Halls with her more compassionate feelings.
She crept to the edge of the practice yard but stayed out of sight in the shadows of the portico’s columns. Her eyes traversed the square and quickly found him. He was sparing with two other students. A disturbance to the side of were Brandt was sparring caught her attention. A large beefy young man was screaming and kicking at a young boy who lay on his back, cowering. The young boy wrapped his arms around his neck and head to protect these sensitive places as best he could from the booted feet of the large Erling youth. The Erling looked to be quite mad and was enjoying the plight of the smaller boy.
