Chapter 3
The Wandmaster Confirmed
John was woken by the appearance of breakfast, which was light to say the least; cool water and a wafer-thin slice of bread (they obviously needed him to have a clear head again) - and the removal of the supper tray, unfortunately not by Jazlyn, and he wondered if he had frightened her off. He searched his feelings and was pretty sure that wasn't the case and that the connection he had first felt with her had grown stronger in him and it wasn't one-sided. He knew she liked him. The attraction was as plain as the nose on her pretty face. Again he found himself grinning and thinking about her. 'For heaven's sake, you've got so much more going on here man, pull yourself together!' he scolded himself as he washed and dressed. Today would bring a new series of puzzles and problems, of that he was sure, and he needed to think. All the same, Jazlyn crept back into his thoughts repeatedly, accompanied by a warm tingly feeling starting way down low and coursing up through all his moving parts. Perhaps he should have had a cold shower on getting out of bed, but the thought of that icy water straight out of warm bedclothes had not been an attractive one.
When the inevitable knock came, John's hopes rose and then faded. It wasn't Jazlyn he knew, even before he reached the door.
"Good Morning, Wandmaster John," It was Gilladden "I have come to take you to the temple. Are you ready?"
'For what?' thought John, and he shrugged "I suppose so, Gilladen, good to see you again, how are you?" and he wondered why was he being so polite.
"Well," he answered and led John off up the corridor and out into the light. John had been inside so long that the dull light of the outside world came as a surprise to him. He realized that the bright colours of his own world were not the norm in the crystal realm where they were muted and less vibrant. The two men did not exchange any other words and John knew that reports of his appearance at the Council the previous day must have been a disappointment to his guide and probably to the whole of the community. It struck him as ridiculous that the fate of this strange place seemed to have landed in his unwilling and inappropriate hands.
A stone pathway led to the temple and John was surprised to see it lined with people. He walked between them as they stood watching him, and did, indeed, feel like a lamb going to slaughter. Around the temple were arranged a ring of leather-clad men and women and he knew one of them would be Jazlyn, though he couldn't pick her out. As they reached the ring of young men and women, Gilladen halted and turned to John.
"Wandmaster, I present your Guardians. Please wait here until you are called." John did as he was told and stopped while Gilladen took his place in their midst close to the door of the Temple, at the threshold of which stood Menoneth and some priests in simple robes of various hues. Gilladen took his place in the line of guardians, drew a sword out of its sheath, raised it into the air and shouted, "Guardians, salute your Wandmaster!"
A loud cry of "Honour to the Wandmaster!" came from many throats and swords were raised in the air in unison and then lowered and presented ceremonially, tips facing down and blades straight and true.
They waited expectantly, all eyes on John and he knew he should respond, but he still had no desire to be the 'Wandmaster' and wanted to shout it out loud again to everyone there. So many people were gathered around and the Guardians were saluting him as their leader with great show of ceremony, putting him in a very embarrassing predicament yet again. He felt very much as he had at the Council Meeting the night before, but there was no point in making a scene here and now, he reasoned, and decided to go along with things for the time being till he could sort out the mess. He had no sword or shield so on an impulse, he withdrew the wand from its pocket in his leather halter, raised it and returned "Honour to the Guardians of the Wandmaster!" which was the most appropriate return he could muster.
He felt an exhilarating rush of power down his upraised arm and into his entire body, which rocked him on his feet. The wand glowed, throwing an eerie shade of dark ruby red onto the faces of the Guardians and issued a deep resonant note, which floated in the air strong and clear. It was taken up by a rejoining echo from the crystal temple walls behind the guardians and soon the air was alive with sparks flying back and forth from the points of the crystal peaks of the temple and the tip of the wand while the clear note chimed in the air. John was astounded, but felt alive with the power of the wand in his hand at once absorbing and emitting energy. He had the impression that in the air above the central crystal stood the tall thin man, swathed in flame, that he had seen on his arrival in the Realm, and felt as though all his concentration was bent on John. As the clear sound faded, the sparks died down and the ruby red colour subsided, the flames and the image within them faded too. The wand was quiet again. John's arms dropped to his side, the charge that had filled him slowly diminishing. He didn't know exactly what had happened, other than that he had in some way been joined with the crystal substance of the temple through the wand in his hand, and that he had felt the power flooding through him. He wanted to be separated from the connection and replaced the wand in its sheath, standing erect and serious. His claims to be plain John Stone had taken a knock to their credibility, and John himself was uneasily beginning to wonder if there was really something in what Menoneth had said the previous day at the Council. There was absolute silence.
"Come forth Wandmaster," came Menoneth's voice, and John walked forward, charged by the wand and knowing that there was no going back, at least for the present. His doubts and fears had been challenged by what the wand had caused to happen. It was beyond his comprehension and control. Whatever was to follow, he would be a part of. The wand and he had communicated and formed some kind of bond between them and they were now closely related; unbreakably so, he felt. He was more aware of himself than he had ever been in his life, and whether this was eventually to turn out to be a dream or a twist of reality in which he was entwined, he knew he had to live it out. Acceptance brought strength, and solemnly he walked toward Menoneth who was smiling knowingly.
"There is no mistake. You are the Wandmaster confirmed, John Stone."
John returned his look impassively, and finding no words with which to reply, followed the priests into the temple.
Steps were ranged around a central altar amphi-theatrically and more priests were seated around it in a semi-circle. Behind the altar was a sheet of crystal, within which was the now familiar image of the man John had seen in the flames on his arrival, and shimmering above the temple just a short while ago. It was statue-like and still. John was drawn to look at the figure in the crystal wall and was wary of investigating his feelings too closely about its meaning, and how he had linked with it, or its role in the overall scheme of things. On the altar was a raised slab of white marble on top of which John was surprised to see a set of crystals just like his own at home. The dark first crystal was set apart and was larger, but the others were roughly the same. Their colours were familiar to him and he felt them with his mind as though he were handling them individually, greeting them one by one. There was silence in the temple as the priests and Menoneth allowed him his quiet time. When he felt he had completed his introductions to the crystals, John looked up and saw that several of the priests had taken up position around the altar and were concentrating, eyes closed and deeply still. In his mind he spoke to them.
"Honour." He communicated.
"Honour to the Wandmaster," they replied, eyes and lips closed in contemplation. He was able to communicate mentally, which should have surprised him immensely. It didn't.
The most elderly of the priests opened his eyes and looked at John, "I am Tyloren, Wandmaster. I am the High Priest of the Crystal Trove," said the priest scrutinising him.
John allowed the examination, trying to accept the intrusion into his mind. He was puzzled, but not unsettled with the idea that his unspoken thought was accessible to others and it began to feel natural as he, in turn, was able to link to other minds. Apparently satisfied, the priest moved towards h
im and placed his hands on John's head. He felt uplifted and cleansed, lighter and brighter than before and he did not resist, but instead allowed the feeling to flood through him. The priest removed his hands and turned towards the crystals. He lifted his voice in a deep hymn of reverence and the notes were clear and beautiful. John followed the proceedings patiently and found he was drawing strength from the crystals and the rhythmic chanting of the priests who now added their voices to that of the High Priest, Tyloren.
John was led to the altar. There was a long indentation in the stone at the side of the crystals which he knew was for the wand. He once more drew it from its sheath. The High Priest held out his hands and John placed the wand across them. To his surprise, its loss was acute and he longed for its return watching anxiously as it was placed on the altar. As he stood before the array of crystals and the wand, the priest moved back and took up the hymn again, and John was left alone. One by one, the crystals began to glow and, from their hearts a sinew of light reached out and connected with the wand along its length until it hummed and changed hue, becoming a rainbow of exquisite clarity, which spread outwards taking John into its colours and surrounding him. The power was immense and he submitted to it, taking in as much as it could generate. He had no choice. As though responding to an age-old knowledge, he opened his palms, outstretched his arms and became........the Wandmaster. Had he looked, he would have seen the figure behind the crystal wall in an identical stance, but John was experiencing an inner world from behind closed eyes, which permitted no outside intervention. At the end of the ceremony, John was allowed to take the precious wand into his possession again, and he fondly replaced it in its pouch across his chest. It returned like a lost love to his heart and he wondered at how empty he must have been before it came into his life.
After the ceremony, Tyloren kept John back and they sat on the stone seats at the front of the amphi-theatre until everyone else had left. When all was still and quiet, Tyloren turned to John and studied him from under a smooth forehead and silvery eyebrows, and said,
"I could find out what I wish to ask you, Wandmaster, without talking, but I believe it might help you to voice the answers." John smiled, wanly and returned Tyloren's look.
"You want to know how I feel, about being the Wandmaster, about what has happened today and whether I have accepted my new title and responsibilities," he provided.
Tyloren smiled back, and replied with a simple nod. John considered his hands for a moment, resting on his knees and then looked at the Crystal Trove, the Altar, the figure encased in crystal on the wall. It was strange, but his own ability to read the thoughts of Tyloren did not take him by surprise at all. It was just another facet to the 'Wandmaster' role he had been cast in by some twist of reality.
"I wish I could be what you want me to be, but even after what has happened to me today, and the tremendous respect which is being paid to me, I am still, in my own mind simple John Stone. All that has happened has made me question what, until today, I believed to be the only reality and I am finding it impossible to accept as fact anything other than my past. Somewhere in my heart, I feel that this is all a delusion and that I will wake up and be who I really am, John Stone. I can talk to you, walk, eat, breathe and function in your Realm just as I did at home, but I can't believe in it. Neither can I believe that I can perform the duties of the Wandmaster you have been waiting for. I'm not cut out for it, you see. Tyloren, is it possible that I'm not your man, and that some other, more worthy candidate has been overlooked by an accident of fate and left in my world because William Stone made the wrong choice?"
"I am older than I look, Wandmaster John Stone," said Tyloren evenly, and I led William Stone to the Altar when he arrived with us, and also his predecessor, Nathaniel Stone, your grandfather's brother." John sat up with a start, his eyes wide with surprise at yet another skeleton in the Stone family cupboard.
"Yes," confirmed Tyloren, "and there were others before who were all of your line. It is recorded that when the Wandmaster is brought before the Temple, a certain series of events will happen. You are the first of the three Wandmasters I have seen to whom the Temple, and the Crystal Trove responded as they did to you. I have never experienced such a response before, John Stone, and if there is one in your world more powerful, then I should very much like to meet him."
John sat back, resting on the marble behind him, and gazed at the form of the man in the crystal wall. Tyloren followed his gaze and then looked back at John and smiled.
"Who is he?" He asked, not choosing to take Tyloren's affirmation further.
"He is a man who chose, at his passing to remain with us even after his time in your world should have ended, to grant his strength to us and join his power as the old Wandmaster to that of the new Wandmaster in his task in our Realm. He is, though I believe you have already guessed this, William Stone. It may be that together, your combined strength caused the events of today. He has not passed from life, and yet does not live, except in our hearts and minds, and his sacrifice aids us and will continue to aid us until we can overcome our foes. Even before your arrival, his presence afforded us some protection. Some residue of his former power is trapped with him in that crystal wall and aided us until you entered the Realm."
John stared at the figure in its casing, recognised it as the man he had seen in the flames on his arrival, and high above the Temple during his presentation to the Guardians. He had guessed who it was, though he would have wanted the closed eyes to open so that he could be sure. As if in answer, the lids of the eyes slowly flickered and lifted. The so-familiar dark orbs were revealed and a penetrating stare held John making him jump in alarm and he let out a yell of astonishment. It was like seeing a statue move and come to life, or hearing a dead man speak. But even in his panic, John was able to confirm that they were the same eyes he had gazed at so many times in the old family picture at home. William Stone was encased in crystal and was staring straight at him. At his side, Tyloren let out a soft gasp of wonder.
In the days that followed, Tyloren and John spent many hours in the Temple together. William Stone appeared to be once more in a sleep state, but John could feel his presence and his glance often flitted to the crystal wall in silent greeting, acknowledgment and kinship. There was a link between the two, which grew little by little and the statue-like form ceased to be a source of fear and became one of comradeship. They were connected through their bloodline but also through the power of the wand which had flooded into John and had, in the past also surged through William and other ancestors. It was puzzling and disconcerting. William's wand was still in his hand in his crystal casing and seemed to respond to John's progress in crystal knowledge with subtle colour changes. John also felt the relationship between his own wand and that of William's, as if in some way they were in communication.
One by one, John was introduced to the various crystals, and learned to connect with them and feel the difference in the quality of their contact with him. He was first introduced to the clear white crystal. It was six sided like the dark crystal at the opposite end of the series, but was clearer, and colourless. When John held it in his hands, he felt a completeness and well being which soothed him like soft music, and a deep peace flooded through him, which he was reluctant to relinquish. Tyloren, however, wished him to be able to call up this feeling without having to touch the crystal and he slowly became able to visualise it at will and quieten his mind to the point where he could experience the sensation at a distance and at each attempt, he was able to come more swiftly into contact, and attain, and then retain the quality instilled.
One by one, the crystals took up residence in John's awareness. The shades of purple of the Amethyst which had the quality of wisdom and spirituality, a kindly stone which gently impressed itself on him with its quality of quiet unassailable serenity and knowledge. The deep blue of the sapphire, which sharpened his intellect, his intuition, his confidence in his abilities and his connection to the qualities of the crys
tals and the people around him. After his first session with this stone, which Tyloren had removed from the Trove and placed on his forehead between his eyes, he had felt nausea and had suffered from a headache for two days, so that he was uneasy about his second contact with it, but when the symptoms passed, he found himself thinking more clearly and noticed he had acquired a new quickness of mind that surprised and pleased him. The smooth turquoise increased his ability to voice his thoughts and he found he was able to express his ideas fluently and effortlessly, knowing all the time that he was producing the language of clarity and precision he had always wished for. Two stones were presented to him simultaneously next. One a beautiful emerald, uneven but with a depth to its colour which coursed through him, opening him to feelings of love. An exquisite pink crystal cluster of many tiny points was the second half of the pair, and while in feel, its similarity to the emerald was discernible, it had an individuality and a tenderness which, at the same time, joined with and complemented the green stone. A yellow jagged quartz was next in the series and seemed to instill in him a re-charging force. It centred in the upper abdomen and its vitalising strength toned and tuned him. He felt the yellow glow enter and flow through every nerve in his body. The soft browny orange of the tiger's eye stone followed in turn, and with this John felt a flow, almost liquid as it coursed through his thoughts, giving him determination and stubbornness which had never been natural qualities of his. It made him feel he was someone to be reckoned with and he found he was more reconciled to his role as Wandmaster after handling this stone than any of the others so far. The fiery red ruby made his blood course through him as if in a raging flood of energy and vitality. He worked with Tyloren, who patiently instructed him, until he felt he was 'tuned in' to them all except the final one.
Wandmaster Page 4
