by Callie Kanno
Then, it was over.
Idris opened his eyes and found that he was lying on the ground. Drusi helped Idris sit up, and a wave of nausea overcame him.
His right fist was white from clutching the shaft of his partisan, and it took effort for him to relax his fingers and set the weapon on the ground. Idris stared at Iona, feeling that something was different about her, but unable to identify what it was.
“What did you do to me?” Idris croaked, his voice giving way from the strain.
Cowen looked tired, but his eyes were still filled with the electricity that he had conjured. He leaned on his bo staff as if it were the supporting arm of an old friend.
“I bound your lives together. If you die, she will fade away. If she is destroyed, you will die.”
Idris’s heart began to pound against his ribs.
“Why would you do that?” he demanded.
Cowen sat down on the nearest chair, pulling it away from the long table. He rested his staff across his lap and breathed a heavy sigh.
“Iona should be just as concerned for your welfare as she is her own,” the captain explained. “Even if you are learning to work together as a team, you should be concerned for each other. As long as Iona is indifferent to your entire existence, you will never be able to wield her. By binding your lives to each other, I have forced her to take an interest in whether you live or die.”
It took Idris several moments to process this information. He was tired and overwhelmed, and he was not thinking clearly.
“You are forcing her to keep me alive?”
The captain of the Royal Guard inclined his head. “If you are ever in danger, she will protect you. Also, she will never do anything that will put you into harm’s way.”
Idris’s brow furrowed. “How do you know? What if she does not care if she dies?”
“She cares,” assured Cowen. “It is in her nature to preserve herself and her powers. All weapons of power are made that way.”
The young man shook his head. “It seems wrong. She should want to protect me. Forcing her like this makes her into a slave.”
The captain nodded his agreement. “It is an extreme measure, but a weapon of Iona’s power cannot be treated lightly.”
Idris couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been a part of something that violated everything he believed in.
“She should want to,” he repeated softly.
Cowen sighed again and got to his feet. “Someday she will. Someday she will acknowledge you as her master, and you will be able to reach your joint potential. When that happens, the judgment I passed will be rendered unnecessary and the sealing between the two of you will be broken.”
There was something in the captain’s voice that kept Idris from feeling reassured.
“What happens if she never acknowledges me as her master?” he asked.
Cowen had been walking toward the door, and he slowed to a stop. There was a moment of silence in which Idris stared at the back of his leader and waited for an answer. Cowen did not turn around when he spoke.
“If that happens, you will never be able to wield her as you must in order to be effective as a Royal Guard. You will never be more than a novice, and your powers will always be but a shadow of that of your peers.”
Captain Cowen didn’t wait for Idris to ask any more questions. He walked out of the room, followed closely by Drusi and Jerin. Roth stayed behind. He gestured for Idris to follow him.
Idris turned to pick up his partisan, but hesitated to touch it. It felt strangely repulsive to him now that he knew his life was bound to it, and something told him that Iona felt the same way about him.
He forced himself to reach down and close his fingers around the black lacquered shaft of the polearm. He stared at the dragon-shaped head with all its riches, and he realized what was different about the partisan.
The once-gleaming jewels appeared to be dull and lifeless, as did the gold plating. It looked to Idris like the physical manifestation of what he could feel in his soul.
Iona’s spirit had been broken.
Chapter Fourteen: The Stone
As Idris walked back to the training grounds, the weight of the partisan felt like a millstone tied to his back. Roth didn’t speak the entire time, and Idris felt more like an outcast than ever.
When they arrived, Aherin and Hildar were hard at work under Farah’s instruction. They stopped and stared at Roth and Idris in surprise.
Roth pulled Farah aside and spoke to her for several tense minutes, while Idris focused on his boots and tried not to listen. Out of the corner of his eye, Idris could see that Demas was subtly moving closer to his superiors and that Hildar and Aherin were studying him with interest. All three of them looked anxious to learn what had happened.
A small leather pouch passed between the two Royal Guards, and the conversation was at an end. When Roth turned and walked away, Farah fixed her shrewd gaze on Idris.
“Well,” she said slowly, “it seems we have a change in plans.”
“What change is that?” Demas asked eagerly.
“Idris has been sealed to his weapon. Therefore, his training cannot be put off for any reason.”
Hildar’s expression was a mixture of curiosity and disdain. “What does that mean?”
“This,” said Farah.
Then, without further warning, she snatched a throwing knife from her belt and hurled it directly at Idris. Her aim was true, and for a split second Idris was certain that he was going to die.
A hot glow flared up from Iona, and a wall of flame surrounded Idris. The blade was knocked off course, leaving Idris safe but with heart pounding.
“How did you do that?” asked an amazed Demas.
Idris shook his head. “I did not do anything.”
“Idris and his weapon have been bound together,” explained Farah. “Each will only live as long as the other does.”
The shocked silence exactly represented how Idris was feeling.
“So,” began Aherin, “in protecting Idris, the partisan was protecting itself.”
“Exactly.”
“Why is his training so important, then?” demanded Hildar. “Would that not give him an advantage over the rest of us?”
Farah raised a finger. “What is the most important rule of using a weapon of power?”
“Control,” was the chorused answer.
Clearly, Idris had missed this lesson after he had been sent away.
Farah nodded. “Control is the key to using a weapon of power. Without it, a Royal Guard will never be more than ordinary. And even worse than that, a lack of control opens up opportunities for dangerous or even deadly situations. Idris may be bound to his weapon, but he does not have control over it.”
She walked over to Aherin and locked his bow back in its holder, then she approached Hildar and did the same for her dagger.
“We are through with practicing grounding stances for today. For the remainder of today’s lesson we will begin practicing mental control.”
Farah held up the small leather pouch that Roth had given her. She untied its drawstrings and eased its contents into her hand. It appeared to be a stone the size of her palm. It was a flat oval, smooth around all its edges. It had a beautiful purple sheen that changed to blue as the light shined on it.
Their instructor placed the stone on the ground and motioned the three students to stand in a circle around it.
“This is a small sample of one of the materials used to forge a weapon of power,” Farah told them. “It has not been given any specific properties yet, so it could be considered a purer form of magic than your weapons.”
In spite of the anxiety of the past couple of hours, Idris found himself deeply interested in what Farah was saying. He stared at the stone and could almost feel the power radiating from it. A glance at his two companions told him that they felt the same energy.
Farah went on. “As masters of weapons of power, you have already proven your ability to use m
agical items. This stone may not be yours, but you should still be able to use it.”
Her features tensed and she stared at the stone on the ground with a focused expression. The stone began to glow brighter and brighter, and then it disappeared with a flash. Idris looked around, trying to see where it went.
Farah held up the stone, which had reappeared in her hand. “This stone can be summoned, as long as it is in your sight.”
She set it back on the ground in the center of the three students. “I would like each of you to try and summon it. It will be more difficult when others are trying to do the same thing as you. It will be a mental strain, but it will force you to learn a more keen sense of control.”
Idris tried to hide the look of dismay that was certainly crossing his face, but a quick glance at Demas told him that he had failed.
“At least you are only going against each other,” Demas said with a grin. “I had to learn by going up against Farah. The stone kept disappearing before I could properly focus on it.”
Farah waved a hand at Demas, and he obediently fell silent.
“Place all of your attention on the stone and wrap your mind around it. Then picture the stone appearing in your hand.”
That was all the instruction they received. Aherin and Idris exchanged puzzled looks, but Hildar was already staring at the stone as if her life depended on it.
Idris stared at the sheen of the stone and found the shifting color to be slightly hypnotic. His mind began to drift and his body relaxed. He was almost at the point of shutting his eyes when the stone disappeared with a flash.
He started as he looked up and saw Hildar holding the stone with a smug expression on her face.
“Well done, Hildar,” Farah said, congratulating her.
“It was not hard,” Hildar said dismissively. “These two do not seem to be trying.”
Aherin’s face flushed and his eyes narrowed, but Idris was secretly glad that he was not the only one who had failed this time.
Farah inclined her head. “That is probably true. It takes a bit of practice to focus as needed. The stone may be without specific properties forged into it, but that does not mean that it is benign. Its innate magic still affects humans.”
At Farah’s bidding, Hildar placed the stone back on the ground and they all began again.
This time, Idris tried to ignore the color of the stone and focus on its shape alone. He thought about Farah’s instructions, but he didn’t really understand what she had meant. He found himself chanting over and over in his mind.
Appear in my hand. Appear in my hand. Appear in my hand.
What are you doing? came Iona’s voice, tinged with curiosity.
Idris’s eyes widened in surprise and he had to stop himself from answering her aloud.
I am trying to summon that stone.
There was a brief pause, and Idris could tell that if Iona had a face she would be rolling her eyes at him.
It is not connected to you in the way that I am. It will not respond to commands—especially commands that are not spoken.
The stone flashed and vanished again, this time appearing in Aherin’s hand. “Ha,” he burst out, looking both triumphant and relieved.
Hildar scowled at Aherin and clenched her fists as if preparing to strike him. Instead, she jabbed a finger at the ground, wordlessly ordering him to put the stone back in its starting place.
Idris felt a mixture of panic and despair closing in on his mind. He couldn’t be the only one to not accomplish today’s goal, especially when the lesson was mostly for his benefit.
Calm down, Iona said peevishly. Your abilities radiate your emotions. If you are convinced that you cannot do something, it becomes true that you cannot. Look at your companions. They are determined to accomplish their task, and they leave no room for doubt.
Idris’s eyes went from Hildar’s face to Aherin’s. Both of them were completely absorbed in what they were doing. Their breathing was strained and their expressions were almost as if they were engaged in a physical struggle.
The only thing that can conquer such determination is the knowledge that you have already succeeded.
Idris frowned. But I have not succeeded yet.
The stone began to glow, and as it grew brighter, the looks of effort on Hildar and Aherin’s faces grew more pronounced. When the stone flashed and disappeared, Idris had no idea which of his fellow students had won over the other.
Hildar’s expression became intolerably smug as she held up the stone.
“Again,” ordered Farah, keeping the gloating to a minimum.
Idris took a deep breath, feeling more discouraged than before.
Pay attention, snapped Iona. You are thinking too much. You need to let go.
Idris shook his head. Farah said that the point of this exercise was to learn control. I cannot learn control by letting go.
He could feel Iona’s impatience. You do not need to put a strangling hold on yourself in order to accomplish what you wish. Let your abilities fly free, and you will be surprised by what you can do.
The young man was starting to feel uncomfortable with Iona’s advice. It went against what Farah had said, and it seemed like a recipe for danger.
That does not seem like a good idea, he thought to her slowly. I think I should do it the way Farah said.
There was a brief pause, and Idris got the distinct impression that Iona was offended.
What do I care? Your failures mean nothing to me.
The stone flashed again, appearing in Hildar’s hand.
Farah nodded in approval. “Very good, Hildar. And you, Aherin. Our training time is over, but we will do this again next week. You may go and join the other recruits for the midday meal.”
Idris began to gather his things along with the others, but Farah placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Idris, please stay for a while.”
His heart dropped, and he braced himself for what he assumed would be a lecture on how he wasn’t trying hard enough.
After Demas had left with Aherin and Hildar, Farah turned her keen eyes on Idris and pressed her lips together.
“I must say I was hoping for better results from you today, Idris.”
He felt his face flush and he lowered his gaze to the ground. “I did my best, Farah. It was just hard for me to focus. Iona was trying to tell me what to do, but…”
“Your weapon was giving advice?”
There was a note of concern in Farah’s voice, and it made Idris wonder if something was wrong.
“She told me I was doing it wrong, but the advice she gave me went against what you had said.”
Farah’s brow creased. “What did she say?”
Idris exhaled slowly. “She told me that I needed to let go and stop trying to control my abilities. I told her that the entire point of the exercise was to learn control, and she did not seem happy with me.”
His teacher spoke carefully after a moment of deliberation. “You must be wary of what your weapon says to you, now more than ever. Its continued existence depends on you, and it may try to push you to do things that are not in your best interest.”
Idris frowned. “If her life is bound to mine, would she not be more concerned with my interests?”
Farah tapped her fingers against her thigh. “You need to understand that there are certain paths that will lead you to greater power, but at the cost of your humanity. Your weapon does not understand the importance of integrity or morality. It does not understand the mental and emotional toll of certain actions. Your weapon may try to ensure your safety by directing you toward the more… unsavory elements of magic use.”
A chill passed through Idris’s chest, and the pressure of the partisan against his back suddenly felt like a very different kind of weight.
“What should I do?” he asked faintly.
Farah gripped his arm and gave him an encouraging smile. “Do not fear, Idris. You are strong, and now you know to beware. You just need to remember
that you are the master of your weapon and that you determine the path of your abilities.”
She held up the iridescent stone and placed it in Idris’s hand.
“Take this with you for now. Whenever you have a spare moment, practice with it. You truly will need strong mental control sooner than the others.”
Idris stared down at the stone and felt the weight of discouragement pressing on his shoulders.
“I could not understand your instructions on how to summon it. How am I to practice if I cannot do it in the first place?”
“It is difficult to describe how to summon it,” admitted Farah, “and the process is slightly different for each person. However, if you keep trying, you will succeed. I am confident that by next week you will be able to summon the stone with ease.”
Idris nodded slowly and respectfully took his leave. He walked back to his quarters, thinking about the instructions Farah had given and pondering how he could better focus on the stone.
When he arrived at his room, he saw that the ashes had been swept away and replaced with a new bed. The scorch marks were still evident on the wall, but everything else had been cleaned. A stick of incense burned in the corner, covering up the smell of smoke.
For a brief moment, Idris had forgotten about what had happened only hours before. Now it was brought forcibly back to his mind and he was anxious that make sure that such a thing never happened again. He needed to learn to control Iona. If he didn’t, he would always be putting others in danger.
He stared down at the stone and then set it on the ground. He unbuckled his holder and propped the partisan up in the corner of the room. Then he sat down on the edge of his new bed.
Farah had told him to wrap his mind around the stone and then to picture it appearing in his hand.
Idris physically tensed, straining to cling to the mental image of the stone. He pushed away all other thoughts and visualized himself with the stone in his hand.
Slowly, the stone began to glow.
He strained even harder, and the glow became brighter.
Just when Idris felt he was about to give up from mental exhaustion, there was a flash of light and he felt the smooth surface of the stone resting in his hand.
