Life Giver

by Lisa Lowell

  "That's amazing. How old were you back then, Old Man?”

  “Oh, a bit older than you are now. I had a family, but they’re gone now.”

  Yeolani knew better than pursue that kind of topic and instead went with other curiosities. “What kind of power would seal a land and then suddenly let people in for no reason?"

  "Oh, there's a reason," Gil disagreed. "We just don't know it yet. Perhaps we never will understand, but know this, there are great powers here in the Land, more than either you or I can comprehend."

  Yeolani bit his lip in sudden fear: Honiea. She was part of this. Yeolani remembered the pure will she had displayed lifting a huge tree off his friend Arvid and then mending his crushed legs. That kind of power, that could seal off the Land from anyone entering. That magic could do anything. Where did it spring from? Yeolani hadn't thought about Honiea in over a year, but now he realized his curiosity would drag him back to her, for he wanted to know. Someday he would meet her and ask for more lessons on becoming a Wise One.

  "Magic," he whispered, and Gil began scratching the word in ash on the stones. Yeolani read it and recognized there lay his future. He might hunt and help Gil, but the fairies and Honiea would still be hovering, reminding him that he had a magical fate.

  Over that winter and on into the following years, Yeolani studied reading. At a suggestion from Gil, Yeolani crafted a map on one of the many skins he had from hunting. He would walk through the forest, counting his paces and noting the landmarks he crossed in little marks across the paper, always keeping the mountains in one direction, the creeks and hills in mind. He had a fair map of Fallon and seriously considered going to Simten and Savone to add them to his map. But then everything changed.

  In the summer when Yeolani turned twenty-two, he came tramping back to the cabin near dusk with his map as well as his hunting prizes, Marit at his side. The cabin had not come into view, but Yeolani smelled smoke and a lot of it. He noticed the haze filled the trees with a ghostly mist like masts in a fog bank. Yeolani's abrupt fear drove him, and he dropped his burdens and ran toward the cabin, almost losing his way in the strange, altered scenery. And his fears were founded.

  The cabin glowed, fully in flames. He couldn't approach without choking on the fumes, but he went in any way, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. The fire around the door licked at his arms, and Marit cowered away, more intelligent than he. Yeolani could barely see for the smoke, but the beams and rafters already fully engaged in flames lit the way. He staggered to where he knew Gil would be at this hour, in the chair whittling or carving. Yeolani groped his way to the spot before the hearth, but the roar of cracking beams and rushing fire warned him away. Gil’s chair stood empty. If the old man were inside here, he was dead already, Yeolani knew, but he kept looking. Then, to his horror, he found something charred and still on the bed.

  The roof might be seconds away from collapsing. The heat might kill Yeolani at any moment. If he tried much longer to breathe in this inferno, he would asphyxiate, so Yeolani gave up and staggered toward the door. He made it just as the wall and roof came down, shoving him down the stoop, and he landed on the ground gasping and coughing with Marit trying to lick his face. It took Yeolani a few moments to catch his breath before his mind kicked in and he leaped up and ran for his pack. The candle. Honiea could help.

  His hands trembled so that he could barely hold the taper, but at least he didn’t have to start his own spark. He reached for the nearest ember from the cabin and lit the candle, holding it high in the smoke, but he didn't remember much after that. He fainted, the candle still clutched in his hand.

  Sometime later, he woke with Marit again licking his face and the smoke even thicker than before, but he could not hear the fire and he sat up, dazed, and looked around. The cabin looked like the plague pyre, just a smoking heap of glowing cinders. Beside it, almost blending in with the smoke, stood Honiea, but not as Yeolani had ever seen her.

  She wore a purple silk gown embroidered with lilies stitched in silver until the hem stood out stiff with the sparkling threads. At her back she carried a quiver crafted of crystal, filled with arrows fletched with swan feathers. Over the top half of her body, she boasted a bodice of silver etched with more of the lily motif. Her hair, usually in a messy bun or a braid to stay out of her face when she worked, now flowed up in a spectacular setting of silver braid, lilies, and diamonds. Her skin glowed, and it could not be a trick of the smoke and fading light that she seemed to shake the very air around her.

  "Yeolani," she said regally, and he obediently scrambled to his feet, afraid to face this new phenomenon.

  "Lady?" he gasped, unsure of what to say. "You…you came too late. I'm sorry. I…I, couldn't get him out before…"

  "What are you apologizing for, Yeolani? You've done nothing wrong. You stayed with him and served him – an exchange of services. Gil was grateful for the company and your work. And for your part, you learned many things from him. But now that phase is over. It is time to move on."

  "You know about Gil?" Yeolani asked in wonder. Perhaps his mind hadn't quite caught up again with the new situation. Of course, she knew. She probably had spied on them daily.

  Honiea’s smile held no such secret. "Yes, I know, for he is my husband," she replied frankly. Her silver clad hand lifted, gestured out in the smoke, and a shadowy figure came toward them, moving slowly, bent and old.

  Yeolani recognized the familiar shape of Gil approaching them. Marit's tail wagging witnessed this was indeed Gil, but then as he came up to Honiea's side, his face began to change. The old man’s wrinkles faded, and the thin white hair thickened up. This new Gil wore a tidy beard, and his hair, stone gray or black, gave him the look of a man strong, tall and sturdy. He seemed only in his mid-thirties but more physically strong than Yeolani himself in his early twenties. This man’s eyes still twinkled with the stony gray Gil’s had, but instead of watery, struggling sight, Honiea’s husband could see a thousand miles.

  His clothing also changed with his physical transformation. Instead of hand-crafted leathers, this man wore polished leather breeches the color of the mountain beyond the burned-out cabin and a fitted tunic of wine-colored velvet. Into the fabric had been stitched in silver and gold a run of mountains topped with snow crafted of diamond dust, and along a finely tooled strap, he carried carving and climbing implements fitting the King of the Mountains. Yeolani had no problem recognizing another Wise One like Honiea.

  “May I present my husband, Vamilion, King of the Mountains,” she said.

  The two magicians stood side by side, very different from each other but amazingly the same, matched in power and purpose, though obviously their talents and gifts would be used in far different ways. They had come to him not to display their power but simply to introduce themselves, and Yeolani’s mind still could not grasp the reasoning. His legs trembled a little, and he decided he’d better sit down before he fell. He reached for Marit’s head to caress her, something real that had not changed in the last few minutes.

  “That’s some trick. You deceived me,” Yeolani finally managed to say, unsure if he felt hurt by the ruse or not.

  Honiea shook her head, but it was Vamilion who spoke. “You were not ready for more. It was important that Honiea have you protected while you learned about the world, but she didn’t feel like she could watch over you the way that Gil did. I taught you only the things you needed to know, and I never lied to you.”

  Mocking laughter burst out of Yeolani. “Really? How can you claim that? I’ve lived under your roof for years and not once did you tell me the truth.”

  “When I introduced myself, I said ‘you may call me Gil,’ not that it was my name. And other than that and my appearance, everything was true. I did come from another land far away and I did travel here, exploring. The writing and hunting, those are skills I could give you without using magic. You found me when you were ready, not because you were forced to. You wanted a way to learn to survive, and I was wi
lling to teach you. There was no deception there.”

  “You even noticed how the fairies followed him as much as you. They’re drawn to magic, and he didn’t hide that fact,” Honiea pointed out.

  Yeolani wanted to be angry at their interference, but the more sensible part of his mind could understand a little. “And when I was in the wood crew, when the tree fell after only one blow, were you part of that as well?”

  “No,” Honiea answered with a sigh. “But when the tree snapped, I did wonder if darker powers might be testing you. So, when you called and I realized the woodsmen knew about the candle and that you’d given them your real name, I felt it better to keep a closer eye on your actions in any case.”

  “In case? I made a fool of myself there. Then was there some evil magic in the tree falling?” asked Yeolani.

  Honiea’s brows drew down and a look of frustration crossed her delicate face. “I’m still unsure. It seems terribly convenient that your best friend in the crew was the one harmed and that tree’s fall was anything but natural. The fairies were always adamant that you should take up magic immediately. However, I was unable to prove they had any hand in it. Let’s put it this way, I was grateful that you decided to move on.”

  “Did you encourage that with some of your witchery?” Yeolani suspiciously suggested.

  The queen shook her head. “No, that would have happened in any case. It’s in the Wise One’s nature to be about in the Land, exploring. We are the guardians here, and we cannot long stay where we are not needed.”

  Yeolani knew deep down this was true. He had sensed the urge to leave the forest now for a few months but had resisted because of a perceived responsibility to Gil, an old man who needed his help.

  “Which is why we severed that tie, to let you move on,” Gil-turned-Vamilion replied to the thoughts Yeolani hadn’t expressed. That realization made the younger man cringe.

  “Rolling around in my head, are you?” Yeolani almost growled, resentful of them listening in on his thoughts.

  Honiea glared at him, and she reminded him perfectly, painfully of his mother. “You can be angry at us, but we are your parents after a fashion, your parents in magic, and this is what good parents do. We watched over you, let you learn from your mistakes, and made sure you didn’t hurt yourself too badly. Now we’re cutting off that support, and we will see if you’ve grown strong enough to move to the next level.”

  Am I a broken bone to be mended, Yeolani wondered, or a future magician? “Very well,” he sighed. “I can appreciate that. Next level…magic, I expect.”

  Honiea nodded, but before she brought out the Heart Stone, she qualified it. “Only if you are ready and take it willingly. There are obligations and restrictions that you must acknowledge, and you must know that before you take the burden. There are two sides to this coin.”

  “Two sides? A burden?” Yeolani didn’t like the sound of that, but he still felt little option. If he didn’t learn the consequences now, he would always wonder, and he didn’t want to live without at least knowing what might have been.

  “There are always two sides to every coin,” Honiea began in her best tutoring voice. “When you see the power we have, the ability to do anything we really wish to do, there is also a cost to go with it. We will live forever, without aging, but that means we also will lose everyone we have or will love…unless it is another Wise One.”

  She turned toward Vamilion briefly, and Yeolani saw a strange look pass between them, something he had never witnessed before. Love? He doubted his own parents had ever looked at each other that way.

  “Also, you will be driven,” Vamilion continued, “enticed by the magic, to use it in service to the people of the Land, so in a way the magic manipulates you. Essentially, you’re a good person and your own nature will drive you to this service. It will be part of your make-up, and while you will be content, you will never be free of it. The Heart Stone will prevent you from using magic for selfish purposes, though you still might do harm.”

  “But that can be a good thing as well,” his wife qualified. “I often have to cause pain in order to heal someone. Unfortunately, that is life in itself.”

  “And then there are the dangers,” Vamilion added. “You will be battling many things that you cannot anticipate. You are still human and, until fully Seated, can still be physically harmed. Sickness and spells will dog you as you go out Seeking. Those are the terms we use: Seated and Seeking. Until you have found all the pieces to your magic, you are Seeking. There are Talismans you must Seek, as Honiea once explained. And Seeking is a dangerous proposition.”

  “So I’ve heard. But nothing you’ve told me seems so dangerous. What can be so bad about adventure and limitless power?” Yeolani tried to reason.

  “That’s just it,” Honiea replied carefully. “Your power makes you think you can do anything, but you will soon discover you cannot. I could not save Simten from the plague. The tree would still have snapped and your dog there will still die. Another thing is that much of your eternal life you will be alone until you find the next Wise One. Sometimes even then. And no matter how much you help others, you will always question what more you could have done. The what-might-have-been is a burden that will always be yours, though you will eventually find someone with whom to share it. But that could be ages from now. Vamilion found me relatively easily but…but…”

  “But,” Vamilion rescued her in her difficulty, “it has taken her your entire life to find you, and if you don’t accept the Heart Stone, she will continue to go Seeking.”

  Yeolani got a distinct impression that Vamilion’s explanation wasn’t exactly what Honiea had wanted to say. Still, it was something.

  “So, I will not be as all-powerful as it seems and will have to live forever with the guilt of not being able to do everything. Is there more?”

  “Yes, but we cannot possibly warn you of all the circumstances you might face or pain you will feel. Responsibility,” the queen sighed, “is a burden you’ll want to set aside, and you will find it difficult to do so for very long.” The unspoken words echoed between them. The Wise Ones would never be able to set aside their covenants.

  Yeolani looked down at Marit’s dark, loving eyes and thought for a while before he came up with another question. “Will I be trained?”

  “If you’ll have me, I will walk with you a while,” Vamilion replied. “But eventually you’ll go your own path. That too is the Wise One way.”

  Yeolani sighed in relief. He really had no idea what he'd do with magic in his life, but he was fairly certain he would mess it up somehow and would need help.

  "We all fail sometimes. We're human," Honiea commented.

  "And that's the first thing I want to learn – how to listen to someone’s thoughts."

  Honiea smiled in understanding and then pulled from her pocket the glowing little orb she had shown him years before. It pulsed with a beat like a heart – like his heart, he realized as he watched the flashing grow quicker with his inner nerves and anticipation. Detached, he watched his hand move across the space between them as if it were not even part of him. He could not even make the tremor of fear leave his fingers as he touched the cool stone.

  Nothing miraculous happened as he half expected. Part of him looked up into the sky above his head, expecting the fairies to at least dance a bit. Instead, their latent light dimmed, making it hard to see in the night-filled forest. He had expected something more.

  "It's only a key to magic, not the magic itself," Vamilion replied to his unspoken thoughts. "You must walk through the door yourself, actively using the magic, and then you will find the power."

  "What should I do first?" Yeolani asked frankly. He could think of half-a-dozen things he wanted to try at that moment, but still had no idea of how to go about it.

  "How about supper?" Honiea suggested since it was well past dusk and the three of them stood in the forest without even a fire remaining in the ruins of the cabin.

  6

/>   Fairies

  The three of them stayed at the side of the burned-out cabin that night, and Yeolani learned how to create something out of nothing.

  “No, not nothing,” Vamilion corrected that thought. “We draw on the substance of the earth. You are going to turn a bit of soil into a loaf of bread. Use your imagination, think of the ground beneath your feet and how you want it to be bread. Good, now hold out your hand and wish for the bread.”

  It worked, much to Yeolani’s surprise. He thought perhaps he would be unable to use the magic, given his past sins. Wasn’t there some terrible price to pay for being a murderer? He didn’t vocalize his doubts, but Honiea chuckled. “It might be sourdough bread, but that’s about it. You defended your mother and yourself. If we had to be perfect, none of us would be Wise Ones.”

  “I was thinking of wheat bread,” Yeolani replied, pleased with the warm crusty loaf that appeared in his open hand. He gave it a sniff and realized Honiea was simply teasing him. She wasn’t nearly as intimidating now, for both she and Vamilion had changed appearance, back into more typical clothing, though the old man Gil did not reappear.

  “Can you make a knife to cut it? Or a plate to set it on?”

  And so Yeolani began exercising his newly minted conjuring skills by creating everything they needed for a simple supper. It took effort and concentration, leaving Yeolani almost too tired to eat. Watching all this, Marit grew skittish and stood outside the firelight, unwilling to approach the strangers, though technically Gil was still there. He must have smelled different to the dog. Directly after supper, Honiea announced that she had another calling, someone needing her help, and so she left, shimmering away in the night, and this did little to reassure the poor dog.