Fire Sower

by Callie Kanno

  Marlais continued to weep as he wrapped each blanket carefully around its precious cargo and tucked them into the sack that he had brought with him on his back.

  The scene shifted before Idris’s eyes, and he was suddenly standing next to an enormous forge. A giant man with strange tattoos all over his bare chest was pumping the billows.

  Marlais looked weary, as if he had traveled for days without stopping. He reached into the sack and pulled out one of the blanket bundles.

  “Begin with the heart,” he instructed the Forger. “That is how this work should be born.”

  The Forger took the bundle and unwrapped it, careful not to touch the hunk of metal within. “Who are you?” he asked it quietly.

  The giant man paused to listen, staring intently at the raw material. Slowly a smile spread across his blunt face.

  “You are Iona.”

  Idris felt his eyes widen in shock at the unexpected declaration. Something told him he had just discovered the most intimate and private thing about his partisan, and that knowledge brought them closer together.

  Yes, farmer, the voice in his mind confirmed. That is me.

  There was another blinding flash of light, and Idris was back in the cavern with the Royal Guards.

  Cowan seemed to recognize that the visions were finished, because he began to speak to all three of them.

  “You have seen the truth of your weapons,” he stated. “They are not born from ordinary metal, but from the life of magical creatures—the same creatures that they are fashioned to resemble. All magical items are born this way, and that is why they are living.”

  Idris stared down at the partisan in his hands.

  You were the heart of a dragon.

  Iona’s feeling of wistful sadness passed through Idris’s chest.

  I still am.

  “You now know your weapons for who they truly are,” Cowan continued. “If you can embrace all that they are, you shall become their masters in truth.”

  Idris brought the partisan close to his chest.

  I had no idea, he thought to Iona gently. I could not have imagined the treasure that was entrusted to me.

  Idris felt a surge of warmth, and he didn’t know if it was coming from himself or from the partisan in his hands. A golden glow burst out, enveloping Idris and Iona, swirling around them so powerfully it was like being caught in a violent storm. When the light and the rushing power faded, Idris felt lighter than he had in a long time—lighter than he had felt since Cowan had performed the sealing between him and his weapon. And he knew, without question that the forced binding between him and Iona had come undone.

  It was no longer needed.

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Heart

  After the ritual in the Sanctuary, Cowan had sent the young Royal Guards back to their quarters. Idris sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace in his room with his partisan lying across his lap.

  It seemed to Idris that his mind was spinning with all of the new information he had just been given. He stared down at the black lacquered shaft of his polearm and could see part of his reflection staring back.

  You are unusually quiet, farmer, Iona said. I expected you to be asking hundreds of questions.

  The corners of Idris’s mouth curved into a brief smile. “I do have hundreds of questions,” he admitted. “I suppose I do not know where to begin.”

  He could sense Iona’s amusement.

  Start with a mundane question, she suggested. It will help to organize your thoughts.

  Idris was startled that she was inviting him to ask about her past, but he was eager for the opportunity.

  “Marlais was nothing like I expected,” he began. “Was he really so ordinary?”

  Iona laughed, and Idris was once again surprised by her reaction.

  I told you your stories were foolish, farmer. He was just a man, not a god.

  “But he did so many amazing things,” Idris protested.

  Ordinary people can do extraordinary things when given the right tools, Iona pointed out. Perhaps that is why the weapons of power were forged in the first place.

  “You do not know?”

  I was not the first weapon forged, Iona answered. I do not know everything about why the practice began or how it was discovered.

  Idris thought back to his vision of Iona’s birth and he experienced a renewed wave of sorrow. “That dragon must have felt that the weapons were important. She gave up her life to create them.”

  Weapons and other magical items were used for a variety of purposes—some more noble than others.

  “Marlais said to her that she did not have to die,” Idris began.

  Yes, Iona said in answer to his implied question. Most of the time a magical creature could give a part of itself to be forged into an item and go on as before. However, I was created under unusual circumstances.

  Idris frowned. “What do you mean?”

  Five magical items were created from the same source. That was unheard of before I was born. Occasionally, there would be two items from a common creature and rarely there would be three. But five was something that had never been done before, and it was never done again.

  “Why?”

  A special bond exists between items that share a magical source, and that can create complications. It splits loyalty between the item and its master.

  Idris raised his eyebrows. “It does?”

  What would you do if you had to choose between following an order from your captain and saving the life of your brother?

  Idris had no answer.

  Exactly, Iona said in satisfaction.

  “So, somewhere in this world you have four sisters?” Idris asked, amazed.

  Yes.

  He leaned forward in excitement. “Where are they?”

  There was a pause and Iona’s tone became subdued.

  I do not know.

  Idris felt abashed. “Oh.”

  He could feel her stronger emotions, and he knew that he had caused her pain. It was something that Idris could easily understand. He would be devastated if he lost his brothers and sisters and didn’t know how to find them.

  Several moments of silence passed before Idris decided to ask another question.

  “Cowan said that going through that ritual in the Sanctuary was part of helping you reach your full potential. Why is it so important that I know how you were born?”

  I think you can work out the answer to that, farmer, Iona replied.

  “I can?” Idris asked dubiously.

  Is there a difference between how you work with a tool versus how you work with an animal?

  “Of course.”

  Well?

  “A tool is used however it is needed,” Idris explained, “but an animal is something you have to work with.”

  In the past you have only viewed me as a weapon, Iona stated. Is that any different now that you know how I was created?

  Idris considered her question carefully before answering.

  He had seen the dragon—alive and talking. He had seen her speak to Marlais and observed the bond between the human and dragon. Iona may be made of metal and jewels, but Idris had seen when she had been a dragon’s heart.

  She had said she still was a dragon’s heart.

  “I think I understand,” he said slowly.

  Good, she replied. It does grow wearying to have to explain everything to you.

  Idris chuckled. “Well, I am a simple farmer.”

  Even farmers must have some level of intelligence, she shot back.

  He shook his head ruefully. “I am glad to see that you have lost none of your sting. I was worried that our experience had made friends of us.”

  I believe that you think you are somehow persecuted, but I do not treat you any worse than I ever treated Marlais.

  “Then he was a stronger man than I thought,” Idris muttered.

  The stories that you are so fond of embellishing are all from Marlais’s life after we had been working together
for almost twenty years. It is important that you understand my origins, but that does not mean that things will be simple between us. There is still a lot of work to be done.

  “I am beginning to see that,” Idris admitted, “but you could make things a bit easier.”

  Iona sounded genuinely perplexed. What do you mean?

  Idris rolled his eyes. “I mean you could stop being so petulant.”

  I think you are exaggerating.

  He snorted. “I assure you I am not. There are times you are as childish as Adwen.”

  In the Sanctuary Idris had experienced a deepening of his connection to Iona, and now he had cause to regret it. He had a clearer idea of what she was feeling, and now it was anything but complimentary.

  I think you would understand my reluctance if you had gone from being a part of a beautiful being like a dragon to being forced to work with humans, Iona threw at him.

  Idris raised his hands. “Why are you getting so angry? I was just saying that we both have much to learn.”

  No, you were saying that I needed to change who I am—what Marlais made of me—in order to make you feel better.

  Idris was speechless.

  He couldn’t understand how they had gone from having a positive, bonding experience to arguing like this again. Part of him felt bad for what he had said, but he hadn’t been wrong. There were times when it seemed that Iona was doing everything in her power to make his life harder.

  Idris carefully got to his feet and propped the partisan against the wall in the corner. He started changing from his uniform into his nightclothes, musing over what Iona had said.

  Was he trying to change her?

  If he was, surely it couldn’t be a bad thing. After all, everyone changes over time. They were meant to work together, and Idris felt that meant that both of them would have to make compromises.

  So far, it felt that Idris was the only one being required to sacrifice.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself, farmer, Iona snapped.

  Idris’s face flushed and he could feel his temper getting the better of him. “You should take your own advice.”

  I am not the one burdened with an abundance of human flaws.

  He clenched his jaw. “No, but you are the one who will not let go of the past. You have already made it perfectly clear that I am not Marlais, and I think you should stop expecting me to be him.”

  You will never be like Marlais!

  “I know,” shouted Idris. “So why are you punishing me for that?”

  You are not a martyr, Iona said with finality.

  “And he was not a saint,” Idris added.

  I never said he was, she insisted.

  Idris made an incredulous noise. “Yes, but you act as though he were. No matter what I do, I will never measure up to what you think of him.”

  Well, at least we agree on that.

  Idris felt like punching something, and he vented his anger by stoking the fire more vigorously than what was necessary.

  He had never had a more tempestuous relationship than the one he had with Iona. One minute they were getting along just fine, and the next she was calling him an idiot and refusing to cooperate with him.

  None of the other Royal Guards had ever mentioned such difficulties, which indicated to Idris that his problem was unique.

  “Perhaps it would be better if I returned you to the Treasury,” Idris murmured to the partisan.

  Do not be a fool, farmer. Iona sounded upset by his suggestion. We both know that will not solve our problems.

  Idris was baffled by her reaction. “It seems to me that nothing will solve our problems.”

  There was a pause in which Idris could sense that Iona was feeling a tinge of remorse.

  Go to sleep, Idris. We will try again tomorrow.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Leaving the City

  “You have much to learn and not enough time to learn it,” Farah said briskly.

  The predawn light filtered across the sky behind Farah. Idris rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much rest the night before, being too wound up after his fight with Iona. Also, he hadn’t gotten up this early since living on his family’s farm.

  “There are four steps to this training exercise,” she went on. “Once you have mastered all four steps, you will have enough knowledge and control to use your weapons in combat.”

  “Our training will be over?” Idris asked.

  Something like a snort came from Iona, and Idris surmised she found his question ridiculous.

  Farah shook her head. “No, your training will continue for several more years. However, successful completion of these exercises will prove that you are ready for your weapons to be unlocked permanently.”

  She gestured to Demas, and they stood parallel to each other. “Demas and I will demonstrate the exercises first, and then I will teach them to you.”

  Farah and Demas took their weapons in hand. A faint glow began emanating from each of them, radiating from their bodies and their weapons. The glow surrounding Farah was shimmering white, and the halo around Demas was vibrant blue.

  “As the first exercise, you will make the magic tangible by imagining it to form into a pool of light. Remember: action follows thought. Then you will gather the power and exchange it with your partner, like so.”

  Idris watched as Farah began to make stirring motions in the air with the handle of her axe. Demas did the same using the blade of his sword. Some of the light surrounding them began to come together slowly, winding in on itself to form into a sphere beneath the circling tips of the weapons. It reminded Idris of his sisters forming bread dough on the counter at home. Then, Farah and Demas gently pushed the balls of light toward one another. Farah extended the handle of her axe to accept the sphere of blue light from Demas, and Demas brought the tip of his sword to accept Farah’s sphere of white. The spheres dissolved, and each Guard’s glow of power grew brighter.

  “For the second exercise, you will join your flows of power together.”

  Both of the Guards’ faces took on a look of concentration. Idris caught his breath as a stream of light flowed out from each of them. The white and blue joined in a pool between them, shining brightly as it swirled. Idris couldn’t help but think of the water he’d stood in the night before, when he’d learned the truth about Iona. The streams of light parted and returned to their sources.

  Farah wasn’t even breathless, even though Idris would have imagined it took a great deal of effort to perform these tasks. “Next, you will transform your power into a tangible expression of yourself.”

  Demas and Farah both closed their eyes. Their looks of concentration deepened. Idris could feel the power crackling off of them from where he was standing. The light that surrounded Farah and Demas began to draw together again, but this time, instead of a ball, the light took different forms. Farah’s light became a school of fish swimming in circles around her. Demas’s became a frolicking dog. Idris broke into a grin. It was unlike anything he’d ever seen before, and it felt like a glimpse into the hearts of the two Royal Guards—Farah, many parts coordinated into beautiful, controlled motion; Demas, warm and playful.

  Farah didn’t open her eyes yet, but her voice was still calm and even. “Finally, you will join your expressions.”

  The light shifted again. Farah’s light formed a stream, and the fish followed the smooth course toward Demas. Demas’s dog took a splashing leap into the stream, sending sparks of light scattering like a shower of water.

  The glowing visions faded from sight, and Farah and Demas opened their eyes.

  “Each of these exercises will aid you in developing a different vital skill that you will need to wield your weapons,” Farah explained. “The first is to carefully control the power you draw from your weapon. The second will teach you to work in harmony with another magic user. In order to complete the third exercise, you must deepen your connection with your weapon’s magic. And the last exercise bonds two magic u
sers together in a way that is not unlike how you bond with your weapon. Such bonds are important in a group like the Royal Guard, for our lives will often depend on one another.”

  Idris adjusted his grip on his partisan and took a deep breath, preparing himself for the exercises.

  “To begin, open yourself up to your weapon. Channel the power into the form of light,” instructed Farah. “Visualize it appearing before you.”

  Idris closed his eyes and focused as hard as he could.

  You are doing it again. Let go, farmer.

  Iona’s tone was much more understanding than usual. Idris assumed she was trying to make up for her harsh words the night before.

  He pursed his lips together and let out a slow breath. He told his muscles to relax. He took in a breath and tried to let his mind open. He made another attempt, this time trying not to think too hard about what he was doing. He just let it happen.

  “Good, Idris,” Farah said as she walked past him. “Allow a larger flow.” She continued on to the other trainees. “Not too much, Hildar. You might lose control. More focus, Aherin. Your power is dissipating.” Idris let her voice fade into the back of his mind.

  It took Idris most of the morning to get enough control to form the sphere of light. When it finally took shape, he noticed that it was a golden color, like the color of ripe wheat in the sunshine. He grinned when he succeeded, but Iona quickly robbed him of his triumph.

  Do not celebrate just yet, farmer. You are still behind your fellow trainees.

  The smile slid from his face and he looked over to see Hildar and Aherin trading spheres of power. Hildar’s glow was a deep red, and Aherin’s was a light green. The exchange between them was shaky, but they were still able to complete the exercise.

  Demas walked over to where Idris was standing. He clapped Idris on the back and congratulated him on his sphere. “Would you like to do your exchange with me?” he offered.

  Idris nodded and knit his brow together in concentration.

  Iona made an exasperated noise. Have you learned nothing? Stop pushing so hard.

  A good portion of the afternoon was dedicated to Idris passing his orb of power over to Demas and receiving one in return. By evening Hildar and Aherin were able to express their power in recognizable forms, but Idris was a step behind, still struggling to get his flow of power to join with Demas’s.