by Jordan Baker
"What sort of things?"
"Well, we now know that Cerric and the power of the shadow can sense where you are," he said. "It makes things difficult, but there are ways to obscure even that power, which will become easier once we reach the Ansari desert, for the sands themselves will hide you from all but the Ansari."
"How will the sands hide me?" Aaron asked.
"Like the sea, the sands are in a constant state of movement," Stavros said. "It makes it difficult to see unless one is attuned to it, and I highly doubt that Cerric or Kenra would be able to overcome it. Only the Ansari and perhaps Ehlena, with the power of the goddess can see through the sands."
"That is helpful," Aaron said. "If I stay in the desert and never touch my power, will I be safe from the shadow?"
Stavros frowned and shook his head.
"I doubt that, Aaron," he said. "You cannot avoid using your power forever. It is an energy that grows, building up over time and if you do not release it somehow, it will do so on its own. When you were under the power of the ward, your power built up so much that it manifested itself in various ways. Tarnath told me of this in the letters he left for me, of trees flowering and growing leaves in the dead of winter, of how the fire in the hearth in the cottage where you lived would blaze higher when you were awake and candles would light themselves in the middle of the night. These things concerned my brother greatly and I regret that I did not return sooner. Had I known sooner, things might have been different."
"Things are the way they are, Stavros," Aaron said. "I miss him a great deal, but there is nothing I can do about it."
"There is nothing any of us can do about it," the mage agreed. "We learned a few other things from that little chat with Cerric. We know that he is not willing to come looking for you himself, at least not yet. I am not sure what his reasons are, but from what Stroma and Calthas told us, he is preparing some kind of magic at Maramyr, most likely something that will add to his power. He also got angry when I questioned his power, so I suspect that he might not be willing to face you yet."
"You mocked him," Aaron said. "Was it wise to anger him?"
"There was a purpose to mocking him. I knew Cerric years ago. He always had a temper, though he tried to hide it, and he would say things that he shouldn't whenever he became angry. It seems that whatever power he has or whatever influence he is under, he is still prone to such things."
"You made it sound like he wasn't even Cerric," Aaron said, and Stavros smiled.
"Yes, I did," he said. "Just like Ehlena has become one with the Lady goddess, Cerric has the power of Kenra within him. Ehlena told me a little about what it was like having her own thoughts and those of another inside her mind, and how it could be confusing. For Ehlena, it was much easier since she welcomed the goddess, but consider what it would be like if the different thoughts were not so welcoming. I would not imagine one as selfish as Cerric giving up any part of himself to another so easily, so it is possible that he and the god Kenra have some differences and if I could add to the confusion and strife between them, then all the better."
"So you were baiting him." Aaron began to understand the reason Stavros had spoken so condescendingly, suggesting that Cerric was not in control of himself.
"Whether it worked or not, it made him angry and when Cerric becomes angry, he becomes arrogant," the mage said. "He let something else slip. When he mentioned Zachary, he did not say that he killed him."
"Cerric said Zachary had destroyed himself." Aaron thought about it a little more. "He said he burned himself with his own fire, completely out of existence."
"That's right," Stavros replied. "Whatever Cerric might have said, and it is very possible that he was lying, the one thing Zachary could never do is destroy himself."
"You don't think so?" Aaron was not so sure.
"No," Stavros said. "It is not in him to do such a thing. Zachary would burn a hole in existence itself before he would even consider such a thing, which is why many fear him. Regardless, it is not in his nature to give up, even at his worst, and I have seen him in the darkest depths of despair, and his fire only became stronger, so it is possible that he still lives, though what has become of him is something of a mystery."
"If Zachary did survive, then why has he not returned?" Aaron asked.
"That I do not know," Stavros said. "He has disappeared before, so it is best to assume nothing."
"Is it possible to burn oneself from existence?" Aaron asked. "Could Zachary's power have destroyed him? Could such a thing be done?"
"Of course, it is possible," Stavros said. "I don't think Zachary could do such a thing, not because he isn't powerful enough, but because of who he is, but I suppose it might be possible if he lost control of his power."
"Stavros," Aaron said, steeling his resolve about something he had given a lot of thought from the moment he had discovered the power of the shadow within him. "Is it possible to create a spell, something like the ward spell you created, that would force my power to do something on its own?"
"It is," Stavros said and his expression darkened. "What are you suggesting, Aaron?"
"I am suggesting that I am not Zachary," Aaron replied. "If the shadow were to gain control of me, then I would rather have a way to stop it if such a thing were to happen."
"But you would destroy yourself?" Stavros looked very concerned. "Have you truly thought about this?"
"I have, Stavros. If I were to become a threat, I would rather that neither you nor anyone else have to deal with it," Aaron said. "If there is a way to make it so I can stop myself, then I would like to know it."
Stavros frowned, but he nodded grudgingly.
"I understand your reasons," he said. "I do not like that this is the way of things, and if things were any different I would refuse."
"If I fall to the shadow, you would have to kill me," Aaron said. "You and the others would have to take on that task, so what difference does it make? If you help me now, then I can keep you and the others from harm. The last thing I would want to do is to hurt anyone, and if there is a way that I can destroy Cerric in the process, then so much the better."
"I see your point," Stavros said. "I don't like it, Aaron, but I will agree to this if you promise me one thing."
"What is that?" Aaron asked.
"That no matter what happens, no matter how difficult things get, that you will not give up, not until the last moment, and only if there is truly no other way."
"I will never give up, Stavros," Aaron told him. "But, if I am left with only one path, then I will take it. In that way, I am like Zachary, or perhaps more like Tarnath. Even when he knew he was dying, he never gave up the fight, and he did what needed to be done."
"Very well, Aaron, I will show you," Stavros said. "We must be careful to obscure what we are doing, so Cerric will not know of it. Also, I must warn you, if we do this, even touching your power could feed the shadow and make it grow. It might shorten the time you have."
"Time is already short," Aaron said. "Cerric is planning some kind of magic, and the shadow within me will grow anyway when my power overflows, so we might as well find a way to use it for something useful."
CHAPTER SEVEN
The tournament was becoming more challenging as they neared the final rounds, and Brian found himself facing strange fighters, many of whom were far more skilled than he was, but so far he had managed to best each and every one of them. Surprisingly, the young Xallan named Pike continued to show up on the lists and when Brian went to watch one of his fights, he quickly discovered why.
Jax went along with him, though they made sure to arrive separately and stand apart from one another, and they both were amazed at Pike's match. It was almost comedic to watch and indeed the fight drew many laughs from the crowd as the young, scruffy swordfighter stumbled around the fighting circle, seeming to trip over his own feet. But when his opponent, a strong looking warrior, who was from the southern lands, attacked with obvious skill, Pike somehow managed
to dodge or block every single blow. It was like his every move was an accident, a trip here and a stumble there, but his sword was always in the right place, and when Pike attacked, it always seemed that he was opening himself up to a counterattack but he evaded every time and somehow cut his opponent in the process.
The match ended with the warrior losing his temper and raising his sword to make a powerful blow, and Pike raised his sword to block it, seemingly in fear, then he stumbled inside the arc of his opponent's sword and fell right into him, knocking him down. Pike ended up sitting on the warrior's chest, scratching his head with his one hand, and his other hand holding the edge of his sword to the man's throat. The warrior conceded, red faced and furious, swatting Pike's hand away when he offered to help him up.
"It seems the young Xallan has had some unconventional training, but that sword he fights with is worthless," Jax commented from where he stood nearby. "Perhaps someone should help him pick out a new one, and buy the lad a meal while they're at it. He looks like he's half starved."
Brian nodded his head, acknowledging that he understood Jax's suggestion, which was to meet at a weapons shop the thief had told him about, only it sounded like he wanted Pike to come along. Another spectator standing next to Jax tapped him on the shoulder and, having heard his comment, began to explain about King Cerric's generosity in providing food and drink, which the thief greeted with complete surprise. Brian left the thief to his games and made his way over to the edge of the fighting circle, wondering if Pike was doing something similar in his fights, pretending to be inept while being exceptionally skilled. He caught Pike's eye and the Xallan's eyes lit up with recognition and he ran over to greet him.
"Brian!" he said, excitedly. "Did you see my fight?"
"I did," Brian told him. "You did well. That warrior was very good with the sword."
"I guess I've a bit of luck on my side," Pike replied. "I think I'm getting better at sword fighting though."
"I would say you're a lot better than you let on," Brian said.
"What do you mean?" Pike winked at him as he feigned innocence.
"Right," Brian replied. "My next fight isn't until later so I was going to visit some of the weapons and armor smiths if you'd like to come along."
"Of course," Pike said. "I've been thinking it might be time to get a new sword." He held out the blade he had been fighting with and Brian was appalled at its condition, with deep notches all the way up and down its edge."
"You're supposed to block with the flat of the blade, you know," Brian commented.
"I try to do that but some of the fighters are really good," Pike told him and Brian was not sure if the Xallan was still pretending.
"Come on," Brian said with a sigh.
They exited the gate through the high wall that surrounded the grounds of the Academy where the matches were taking place, and made their way through the busy streets, toward the part of the city where the armorers were located. Numerous shops lined a long street, with signs hanging outside their door, indicating the kind of things that could be purchased within. Brian saw Jax appear up ahead and he entered a shop with a sign that was emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords over a green leaf.
"Let's take a look in here," he suggested and Pike followed him through the heavy, wooden door.
The inside of the shop was dark and dusty, its walls bare with countless empty pegs where swords, axes and other weapons would normally hang. A few sets of mostly decorative armor adorned wooden stumps that had been cut to the shape of an upper body. The shopkeeper, a gaunt fellow with dark, greasy hair, leaned against the empty wall behind a desk, watching Jax pick his way through the various other items laid out on the tables in the shop. The shopkeeper turned and nodded as Brian and Pike entered and Jax glanced in their direction and went back to his browsing, picking up a leather pouch and holding it up to his belt.
"There aren't very many swords here," Pike commented, looking up at the few dusty blades that still hung upon the wall.
"That's 'cause Cerric's come and took 'em all," the shopkeeper said. "Got to have steel for the soldiers. Sent a team of 'is soldiers an' bought 'em all half price too."
"You would sell your goods so cheaply?" Brian asked.
"Did'na have a choice, with them soldiers. They'd have just taken 'em."
"Do you have any other swords than the ones here on the wall?"
"I might 'ave one or two special blades I'm holding for some folks has disappeared," the shopkeeper said. "Who's askin'?"
"We're fighters in the tournament," Brian said. "My friend here has a sword but it is in rough shape."
"Let me see it," the shopkeeper said.
Pike shrugged and drew his sword, then laid it on the table, keeping his hand on the hilt.
"Disgraceful, it is," the shopkeeper said, looking at the blade. "You'd as like to get the locking sickness from this as get cut by such a jagged, rusty blade."
Pike shrugged.
"It's a cheap sword for the tournament," he said, sliding it back into his belt. "I'd like a better one, but I don't have much coin."
"Come to fight for the free fare then," the shopkeeper said, folding his arms.
"It sure helps," Pike said with a grin. "I had some work then I didn't."
"Well, if you wants yerself a new sword, best have some real coin."
Pike sighed and glanced toward the door.
"That sign outside, what's it mean?"
"It's a sign with swords on it," the shopkeeper said, squinting at him.
"And there's a leaf on it," Pike said. "Does it mean anything?"
"You seekin' for meaning in yer life?"
"I seek the truth of things, yes," Pike replied.
"What sorts of things might that be?" the shopkeeper asked.
"The candle's flame, the shadow it makes, the leaf on the tree and the sound that it makes," Pike said with a shrug. "Things like that."
"Then it might be you've come to the right place."
The shopkeeper turned and walked away, opening a door at the back of his shop, then he closed it behind him. Brian and Pike waited, expecting the man to return. As they waited, Jax wandered over to where they stood. He nodded at Pike.
"I saw your fight today," he said, smiling enthusiastically. "You've got some real luck there, lad."
"Thank you," Pike replied.
"Or maybe it's skill," Jax said and a dagger appeared in his hand as though from nowhere.
Almost as quickly a similar blade appeared in Pike's hand and he blocked the thief's attack, then jumped back, taking a defensive stance.
"I thought so," Jax said, tucking his dagger away in his sleeve. "You can relax. I'm not going to fight you."
"You just attacked me," Pike said. "And now you want to pretend like you didn't?"
"I heard you talking with the shopkeeper. You seek the truth?" Jax asked.
"I do," Pike replied.
"And say again what truth is it that you seek?"
Pike stared at the thief for a moment.
"I seek the truth of fire," he said.
"Interesting," Jax commented, then he turned and clapped Brian on the shoulder. "Well, Brian, it looks like your young Xallan friend is a Ranger."
"What's this?" Pike gave Brian a suspicious look.
"Pike, this is Jax," Brian said. "He's a thief."
"And a member of the order," Jax said. "You're in safe company."
"You're both Rangers?" Pike asked.
"No," Jax replied. "Brian is a defender."
"There are no more defenders," Pike said, putting his dagger away. "I was told there haven't been any for generations."
"That's what I thought," Jax said. "But strange things have been happening of late."
"Yes, very strange things," Pike said, then he turned and looked at Brian. "How did you become a defender?"
"That's one of those strange things that have been happening," Brian said.
"What brings you to Maramyr, Pike?" Jax asked.
"The shadows?" Jax scratched his chin. "Well, that would explain a lot."
"This doesn't concern you?" Pike asked.
"Oh, it does," Jax said. "I just don't know what to make of it all quite yet."
"Don't mind Jax," Brian said. "He's always like that."
"You said he was a thief," Pike said, then he turned to Jax. "How can you be a Ranger and a thief?"
"They're quite complimentary," Jax said. "While I search for the truth of things, if I find other things along the way, I steal them."
The shopkeeper finally returned, carrying two swords with him, both of them beautifully crafted and with jeweled hilts that were ornate and elegant, the kinds of swords a king might use. He handed one of the weapons to Pike and the other one to Jax.
"You're lucky, Jax," he said. "Cerric's nearly cleaned me out of weapons, but I managed to save a few."
"This is a beautiful sword," Pike said. "It is far too costly for me."
"You're a Ranger, ain't ye?" the shopkeeper asked.
"Yes," Pike replied.
"And you're in need of a weapon, right?"
"I suppose so."
"Well then, you've asked for aid and I'm offering it. If you don't want it, I'll take it back."
"No," Pike said. "I'll take it. How much do you think a sword like this costs?"
"That sword was made special for one of the local nobles who had all of his gold and his lands confiscated by Cerric," the man told him. "It costs more than most folks see in a lifetime, but if you're thinkin' of selling it, I'll definitely be takin' it back now."
"Of course I wouldn't," Pike said. "I was just curious."
"Well you better cover them swords up with leather strappings, or some thief might try to nab them from you," the shopkeeper said, giving Jax a dirty look.
"Tell me, Pike," Jax said, ignoring the man's obvious jibe. "Are there many Rangers in Xalla?"
"No," Pike replied. "There aren't many at all."
