by AZ Kelvin
Satisfied, he continued on with his inspection. Quinlan caught up with his walking staff, which seemed to have been off “walking” around by itself as it did quite often.
“There you are—’bout time. I cannot waste the day waiting around for the rascally likes of you. What manner of mischief have you been into now?” Quinlan scolded the supposedly inanimate piece of wood.
If ever an inanimate stick of wood could look offended, it was Quinlan’s druidic familiar, which he called Askue. The hop hornbeam walking staff rolled along the branch it leaned on and settled to one side as if to say, Who—me?
Quinlan was not certain if it reacted on purpose or if it was the sudden breeze just then, which happened to blow it over at the right time.
“May as well stick you up a wyndrif’s flutter and leave you there for all the good you are. Come along, then. Quit dawdling!” He took up his staff before he turned and walked down the trail. Askue did not complain about traveling in the hands of the Vakerian for now.
Together, the two of them made their way along the Seyna and made sure all was well. Why wouldn’t it be? The sun shone brightly through the fresh spring leaves. The sunlight and the breeze made lights and shadows chase each other across the canopy of the woods. The glowing flaura of the deep woods was exceptionally rich and bright during this Cetria of Green Rising. The Cetria of White Fall had recently passed, the snows were gone, and it was truly a beautiful day.
Darkness, however, never seemed to be too far away. Like pine pitch in your hair, you can’t seem to ever get it all.
Quinlan knew what was on the other side of the Seyna. The brooding essence of Acimasiz was confined within Fairtheora. The demi-god had been withdrawn from Arden by Na’veyja and the Gwylari and contained behind the Seyna many generations ago. Even a minor disturbance in the flaura was a chink in the Seyna’s armor against the escape of Acimasiz. A trivial thing could grow into a great danger if left unattended. The living energy of the Seyna had to be kept in place at all costs. The Druidic Order of Arden had been formed and tasked with the maintenance of the Seyna and its barrier of flaura.
The position of Siestrey, Druid of the Sixth Circle, took Quinlan fifteen years of study to achieve, which now was six years in the past. Any Third Circle Osmey could quickly grow a seed to full plant, but to form the plant from the flaura itself without a seed was a rare talent.
Quinlan’s ability to blend with the flaura went deep into both the spirit of the land and into his own spirit. He could blend his energies with that of the plants and commune with the animals and creatures, explain things to them, and even ask them for help. He could immerse into the brush, disappearing completely, and had the ability to heal wounds and cure simple sicknesses. This degree of skill did not come so easily to everyone, and to some, it never came at all.
Quinlan’s ability in blending made joining the Dayne Kinship a natural choice. The Kinship was an offshoot from the main order and there was no circle of rank to rise up through. Each member was simply referred to as brother or sister. Their only insignia was a solid green braid running down the shoulders of their raiments.
All brothers and sisters trained with and learned from each other in peer groups instead of a structured training program. Training with the Kinship taught the druid to move from being able to blend with the energy of the land into being able to call it forth from the world around them. The only requirement for the Dayne Kinship was to have the ability to call the flaura and form a plant from the energy itself with no seed to start from.
The development of this skill required a different focus than that of the Order, which was the maintenance of the Seyna and vigilance against the dark essence trapped behind it. The Dayne Kinship was formed to train those who showed talent in the skill of calling. The Kinship was still a part of the Order of Arden, so a brother or sister had druidic duties to perform as well as honing their calling skills.
In Quinlan’s case, he could be referred to as either Siestrey Quinlan, a Druid of the Sixth Circle in the Order of Arden, or as brother Quinlan, a member of the Dayne Kinship. The Order sends out groups of druids called groves to monitor and maintain the Seyna and the lands surrounding it. It was typical that at least one member of each druid grove was a brother or sister of the Dayne.
Just shy of an hour later, Quinlan came up over a rise and looked down into the vale below. He saw some members of his grove had already gathered at the West Galion trailsmeet.
He could see Swela and Kian, a newly joined Raskanish couple. Kian’s deep red hair was visible even from this distance, but it may as well have been a shadow compared to the bright gold of Swela’s locks.
Kian was a lean man and stood an even six foot tall. His features were sharp and his eyes were as green as the southern seas. The angles of his face were so severe they gave Kian a perpetual scowl that belied his normally open manner.
Swela’s shoulder fit perfectly under Kian’s arm when they stood side by side. Her sky-blue eyes were set above slightly chubby cheeks that were always drawn up in a smile. The tip of a scar from a childhood animal attack started right below her left ear and ran down to disappear under the collar of her tunic.
Kian sat cross-legged atop a small boulder off the intersection of the trailsmeet. Swela leaned against the same boulder in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest. She smiled peacefully, face turned up, eyes closed, and basked in the early morning sunlight. She swatted away an occasional tickle that was really Kian teasing her with a long stem of rynn grass. Swela finally caught on to him and half smiled, half sneered at him. She pretended to be outraged at him for ruining her tranquility. A third person smiled and laughed at their behavior.
Cassae, a Shaanlander woman, sat nearby on the ground and rested against a tree with her hands folded in her lap. Her appearance, even though from different peoples, was so similar to Swela’s one would swear the two were mother and daughter. Cassae stood taller by less than a hand above Swela and was a shade or two darker in hair color, but the same sky-blue eyes peered out from nearly the same face except for the scar and Swela was a little heavier. The Raskanish and the Shaanlanders were once of one people before the Kindred Wars generations ago and the evidence of it could still be seen today in the two women’s appearance.
Despite the difference in age, Cassae had a close relationship with Kian and Swela. The relationship with the young couple had helped ease the pain over the loss of her own family in recent years. Cassae’s husband and two children died of the wasting sickness, a disease contracted from contact with the black cloud of Acimasiz, which slowly drained the life from its victims over many weeks of agonizing pain. The wasting sickness had taken her family’s lives and two years of her own life. She spent a year after their deaths in special study at the Central Conclave to mend the shreds of her spirit. Now, she had been back on patrol with the grove for the last year. Even though the sadness sat over her like a curtain of black veil, the strength of her spirit kept the shadow from darkening her heart.
Quinlan could hear and see Ticca and Ticari, Vakerian siblings, as they walked up the lower trail a short ways down the vale. The brother and sister were from Quinlan’s home province of Yarin in Vakere not far from Calamere, but not linked to him by blood or family. They were both topped with curly black hair so dark the ambient light gleamed off the curls in bright bursts. Ticari, the brother, had tighter curls due to the shorter length of his hair.
Ticari, mature for his age of seventeen, was the elder brother by three years over his younger sister and was close to his trials to enter the fourth circle of Settey. Ticca had just passed the trials of Novey and she was now Osmey, a Druid of the Third Circle, the point at which a druid can be assigned to their first grove. The upcoming rotation was Ticca’s first time out with a grove on patrol.
Quinlan’s thoughts went over the members of his grove and their duties for the day when a plant jumped into the path in front of him. “Yaa!” the plant yelled.
Quinlan s
tepped back in surprise.
“Ha ha ha, I got thee, Quinlan!” said the plant “Ha ha!”
Quinlan relaxed and laughed as the plant’s leaves twisted and shrunk away until only Chyne, another member of his grove, stood there. Chyne was Gwylari and the Gwylari loved to play hide-and-seek in the woodlands.
The Gwylari stood apart from the normal rank and file of the Order of Arden’s command structure. The Gwylari people, with the guidance of Na’veyja’s energy, formed the druidic order generations ago after the imprisonment of Acimasiz. Chyne wore no uniform or raiment except for that which all Gwylari wore, clothing that bore living plants. The Gwylari people loved the druidae as they called their druid brothers and sisters. Frequently a Gwylari chose to support a particular grove of druidae simply because they liked to be around them.
“Lah ahm, brother Quinlan!” sang out Chyne, which was Gwylari for good morning, as she bounded down the path, no doubt to tell the others of her great victory.
“Lah ahm, Chyne,” he called after her and laughed.
“Lah ahm to thee as well, Askue!” she called back to the walking stick. “I shall see thee below!” Her voice diminished as she got farther away. All the Gwylari seemed amused at Quinlan’s unique companion and talked to it quite frequently. The stranger thing was they seemed to listen as if the staff talked back to them.
The Gwylari’s love for fun, games, and surprises made sure being around them was never dull. That being said, a Gwylari as a member of your grove was still a great benefit. They were the ones who first formed the Druidic Order of Arden, then later the Dayne Kinship. The Gwylari were instrumental in the capture of Acimasiz and the raising of the Seyna. His grove’s duty was maintaining the Seyna’s integrity, so having Chyne along was both a pleasure and good sense.
Quinlan laughed to himself at Chyne’s “positude” as she called her outlook on life.
“Askue, my friend, a great day looms ahead,” he said as he continued down the path leading into the vale. “Yes, a great day indeed.”
Two élan flew up to him through the woods, one small sized, one medium. All of the avian breed, regardless of size and color, could alter their feathers to blend into surrounding vegetation. Élan were covered with small semiplume feathers layered in between the other feathers that enabled them to change into different colors and shapes. A dozen longer semiplumes extended from the birds’ heads, six on each side. He recognized Flit and Singer by their markings as the druidic familiars of two of his grove members, Sovia and Therin.
Sovia’s familiar, Flit, was small enough to land in the palm of your hand. She was bright yellow with black wings, mask, and feet. Six fringes of the curled semiplumes matching the yellow of her beak and body sat above each eye extending back and slightly up over her head.
Singer was bigger than three of Flit put together. His belly was a reddish brown at the neck changing to white near the tail. His, back, wings, and head cap were blue with a thin black streak at eye level from his beak to the back of his head. Singer’s twelve semiplumes were black and started behind the eyes running down along the back of the ear coverts to sweep out over his shoulders.
“Greetings, my friends,” Quinlan said to the avian creatures.
In a series of chips and whistles, chirps and cheeps, Flit told Quinlan that Sovia and Therin would meet them farther down the trail.
“Very good, thank you,” Quinlan responded.
The élans both chirped at him and flew back through the trees the way they had come.
Quinlan smiled as he watched the pair of élan disappear into the deep woods and he continued on his way to the trailsmeet. He was confused and somewhat irritated three years ago when his own familiar quest rewarded him with Askue instead of an animal like every other druid he had known. In the time since, however, he had become quite fond of the hop hornbeam staff despite its mysterious and troublesome penchant for mischievous behavior.
The vale below was a mix of forested glens and moss-covered woods. The deep green of the woods glimmered with the shifting glow of the flaura. The crisp airs of the winter season still drifted in over the night hours only to be chased back again by the bright spring sun. The morning sun shone brightly through the trees as Quinlan came around the last bend and saw most his grove waiting at the trailsmeet.
“Shin Lahqui!” Quinlan hoisted Askue into the air and called out the traditional greeting of the Gwylari.
The group called greetings back to him.
Quinlan’s grove returned from their off-duty rotation for their first day back on patrol. Each grove went on patrol for three rotation periods of nine days, totaling twenty-seven days. They had nine days patrolling in each of the three zones, with one nine-day rotation period off. Every druid was required to spend three days of their off period in study at the central hall of their conclave, three days in the growing fields, and they were free the other three days to do whatever they chose.
Quinlan could hear Chyne’s singsong voice as he approached. She told them of her great prowess at ambush, one of the Gwylari’s favorite hide-and-seek games.
“Greetings all, greetings!” Quinlan said.
Cassae stood and smiled as he walked up. “Lah ahm, Quin.
“Lah ahm, Cass.”
“We hear ya’ve already had a blendin’ lesson from Chyne this mornin’.”
Quinlan cocked his head in mock irritation and raised an eyebrow. “Yes, it seems my skills at blending are not even up to that of a Gwylari maiden.” He engulfed Cassae in a warm and strong bear hug, which was a self-proclaimed specialty of his. “How are you?”
“I’m better.” She warmly returned his embrace. “I’ve learned when the voices of the past yell in me mind, ta silence them with whispers of the future.”
“A sound practice and sage advice all folk could benefit from.”
Cassae separated from him and moved to his side. “And how was your time off?”
He slipped his hand around her waist. “Ehhh, you know me, you’ll find me in the shade of a loom tree, feet up and eyes closed, still as a stone.”
“Hah! The day Quinlan of Calamere is still as a stone is the day Arden will cease ta spin amon’ the stars!” They both laughed.
It’s good to be back in her company again, thought Quinlan. The bond between them had grown stronger since she had recovered from the loss of her family, and their feelings for each other were no secret, but Cassae had to walk her own path for a while longer yet. Quinlan knew, in the time ahead, their paths would come together.
They overheard Chyne as she told the others about her trip to visit a nearby Gwylari market and the latest news on the Festival of Na’veyja’s Grace, which was held at the end of the Cetria of Green Rising.
“’Twas said Balas the Bard shall attend to sing the ‘Ballad of the Drawing’, and Alders the Elder shall be there as well. ’Tis rumored Alders hath the names of druids chosen for the Trials of the Circles,” Chyne said to the other members of the grove with a special glance at Ticari as Quinlan and Cassae joined them. She turned to look at Kian and Swela. “And thee twain—wast thy journey to Raskan long?”
“Eck! Lon’, ye ask?” Kian huffed in exasperation. “We rode all week and managed—by Na’veyja’s grace—ta get there as the shadow of night closed over us on the day afore the gatherin’. We had one solid day of family, feastin’, and fables. Then another week of travelin’ just ta get back fer this rotation.”
Kian and Swela chose to have their vowing ceremony in the Primerey’s Garden on the grounds of the Central Conclave on the first day of the Cetria of Green Rising. Primerey Joseah, to their great honor, performed the ceremony herself. Some of the family couldn’t make the trip from Raskan to the conclave, so they traveled home during a special leave for a clan gathering after the ceremony in the garden.
“It was a beautiful ceremony,” Ticca said wistfully.
Swela gave her a hug. “Gratitude, Ticca, ’twas the happiest day of ma life.”
“Our lives,”
Kian added.
Swela peered at Kian. “Aye, the trip was lon’, but at least ye rode out all that blood sausage ye managed ta stuff in yer face in one day.”
“Eck, dinnae remind me,” Kian muttered and patted his stomach to try to ease some of the gaseous rumblings.
“Bowel gas comest only from the eating of animal flesh, didst thou know?” piped in Chyne, joking matter-of-factly. The Gwylari’s disdain of eating animals was well known.
“It dinnae, Chyne!” said Kian.
“Ha ha, with my brother, bowel gas comes from everything!” said Ticca.
“Hey! That’s not true!” cried Ticari in protest. “Better behave yourself—Osmey!”
“You’re Osmey, too.” Ticca couldn’t help but tease her brother, even though Quinlan knew how much she did appreciate all the help Ticari had given over the last year. First was the preparation for the trials, which was tough enough, but then she had to complete them before she could achieve her goal to become a guardian druid on patrol. She had passed her second circle trials and advanced to Osmey. There was a small celebration in the conclave hall with friends and family, then two days of preparation for her first day out with a patrol grove. Ticari had helped her every step of the way. She told Quinlan once, “He was the best brother a sister could have.”
“I’m not Osmey for long,” he replied. “My trials are at the end of this Cetria and I will pass them and ascend to the fourth circle of Settey.” He folded his arms. “A druid of great power I will be!”
“Ahem.” Quinlan cleared his throat loudly.
“…and of great humility as well, of course,” Ticari added with much less grandeur.
“Pride and humility don’t often travel together, Osmey Ticari,” Cassae said, glancing sideways at him and arching a brow.
“Yes, of course, Cinquey Cassae, ‘the smaller self leaves room for the greater spirit,’” Ticari quoted from the Book of Arden. “Forgive me. It was only in jest.”
