Through The Fire: The Alawansi Book One

by Valerie Puissant

  “Jabari and I were sparring along with the other students. It was going just as badly as it always does, but we were following commands and Jabari at least managed to remember all the moves in the first and second form. When Master Manu called for a break, he made Chicha fill the water bucket and give everyone a drink. He got to us last, of course, and he kept moving the bucket every time Jabari tried to grab the dipper. He was taunting us with it, swirling the water and threatening to throw it. I warned him that I would not let him douse us. He did not believe me. He tried to throw the water and I pushed Jabari behind me and blasted it to steam as it left the bucket. I thought Chicha had his hands clear of the mouth of the bucket, but I guess one of his fingers got in the path of the steam and got singed.” There was no remorse in my voice as I recounted the tale because I did not feel any. “I know you said we should never use our powers to intimidate people, but I could not see the point in standing by and letting him get away with mean spirited mocking.”

  He gazed at me a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he spoke, measuring his words carefully. “A wizard should not use his powers for the sake of intimidating weaker opponents, but neither should he let himself or others become the butt of ridicule. I once dropped that little horse turd’s older brother in a hole up to his chin for a similar reason. You made absolutely the right decision.”

  “Master Manu warned me that I would most likely be forced to apologize to Chicha before I would be allowed to return to class. Must I do it? I do not feel sorry in the least.”

  “Yes, you must apologize if that is what is required to get you back in class. I would advise you to do what I did.” He leaned in towards me slightly and his eyes locked onto mine. He spoke with quiet intensity. “Look the boy straight in the eye, tell him you are sorry he was injured, and tell him you are very sure no such incident will ever happen again.” I had to admit, the intensity of his gaze gave even me a shiver. He leaned back and resumed his normal calm speech. “As long as you speak softly and maintain eye contact, his father will be satisfied with the sincerity of your apology and Chicha will understand your true meaning. I doubt you will have more trouble.”

  Wylan moved to rise from his seat but then he sat down again as if another thought had occurred to him. It took a few moments for him to gather his thoughts. “I have noticed that, for someone so young, you carry yourself with remarkable control and poise. I wish to thank you for never giving me reason to doubt your conduct.”

  He had not mentioned my age in months, so I had almost forgotten his misunderstanding. I saw that this was the perfect opportunity to correct his misconception. I had just opened my mouth to speak when a voice sounded from behind me. “H-h-hey!” My friend Jabari was running up the path. He tripped over his large feet, but he did not fall. We both turned to look at him as he approached. “I-i-it w-w-was not…” He was breathing heavy and trying to force the words out as quickly as he could. We both waited patiently, silently. “N-n-not S-S-Safi!”

  Wylan spoke, “I have heard the story from Safi and I am sufficiently convinced. Thank you for bearing witness. I suppose we can forego the flogging, for now anyway.” Jabari’s eyes grew wide, but I stifled a giggle. “What brings you to the tower today, Jabari? You two are not looking to turn a certain young Mayor’s son into a toad I hope.”

  I fingered my chin thoughtfully, “Well, there is that book of witch spells in the library.”

  Wylan shook his head. “It does not work, at least not for us. Trust me, I tried.”

  I made a mental note to learn more of that story later. “I wanted to show Jabari that book of runes in our library. The one no one can understand? We want to find some powerful looking characters to carve into our shields. Maybe if we look like great swordsmen, we will become great swordsmen.”

  Wylan nodded, “Well I hope the wish is the father of the thought. If you two will excuse me, I need to get back to chopping wood or I, at least, will have a very cold winter.” Wylan always chopped our firewood, even though we could have just had it brought over from the castle. I think he enjoyed the physical exertion. He always left the wood for me to stack in the shed once he had finished. I loved the way we divided labor, each doing the tasks that suited our strengths.

  Jabari and I walked up the spiral staircase to the second floor and into the library. I breathed in the smell of the aging volumes on the shelves. I loved the smell of our library. I led Jabari to a neglected corner of the room and bent to pull a small leatherbound volume off a shelf full of unreadable texts. I could feel power radiating from the thing as I held it. We knew it contained powerful magic, it was just that the ability to access that magic had been lost over time. The cover of the book was discolored with finger marks and the grain of the leather had been worn smooth and shiny in spots. Presumably, someone in the distant past had used it frequently. Now it sat, mostly neglected. It seemed a sad end for such a beautiful volume, which was why I often took it out and poured over its pages. Books were meant to be used. Even though I could not understand it, the illustrations were amazing. Some were beautiful and some were grotesque, but all were remarkably crafted. I wanted to use the symbols contained within it because that seemed a good way to pay respect to whatever dead magic they represented.

  I opened the book and flipped to a page which contained a gilded painting of a great shield with incomprehensible runes drawn in firm, black letters all around the edges. In the center there was a larger, more intricate rune. The soldier holding the shield looked large and fierce.

  Jabari leaned in for a closer look. He reached out a long thick finger to touch the page and a small white spark crackled against the pad of his fingertip. His dark expressive eyes widened. “I-I-I know this! I-I know this!” He frowned down at the page in concentration, his finger tracing the outline of the figures.

  “You have seen this writing before? Can you read it?” Excitement coursed through me. This was the only book in our entire library with this style of writing and no one even knew if it was in code or if it was from another land.

  Jabari shook his head. “No, n-n-not read. I-i-it is more like,” he paused again, but not because of the stutter. He was trying to find the right words to explain. “I-I know these s-s-symbols, I can sense their meaning in here.” He pointed to his heart. I frowned, a bit puzzled at his words. He pointed at the picture of the shield. “T-t-t-this shield is wrong. The wr-wr-writing on the edges is r-r-right. It is st-strong, but th-that b-big one in the m-m-m-middle is all wrong. Why is it th-th-there?” He flipped through the pages of the book as if searching for the right answer, then shook his head in frustration when it did not immediately appear.

  I watched him, fascinated, remembering a story he had told me when I first met him, about why he had taken up sword training. His father was Savan, our carriage driver and Jabari was his seventh and youngest son. He had always been a weak and sickly boy so his father had told him that he was descended from a long line of great and powerful warriors and that their blood would help make him strong. When he hit his rapid growth spurt, he was certain his father had been right, that he was destined to be a great warrior. I watched his frustration grow as, week after week, he failed to make the progress he imagined for himself. I wondered if Jabari’s people could be descended from the people who wrote these words.

  I loved to look at the book because the writing was pretty and the illustrations detailed and masterful. Jabari was pouring over the pages as if he could glean some meaning from them. “People have tried to use these symbols to create real magic before, Jabari. No one has been able to do it. If they are magic, no one knows the secret.”

  He was so engrossed in the pages, he did not hear my words. “The answer is in here somewhere. I just have to find it.” No stutter marred his words as he concentrated on the strange symbols.

  “Maybe I can see it.” I reached out to take the book back from him and he clutched it to himself, pulling it out of my reach. His eyes widened, shocked at his own behavior, then
he slowly peeled it off of his chest and handed it back to me, but his eyes never left the pages.

  I opened the book and flipped through it briefly, but all I saw were pretty shapes and pictures. It all still looked just as incomprehensible as it had before. I gave him the book and he took it eagerly. “Maybe we had better go tell Wylan about this. Maybe he knows more about the people who wrote it.”

  When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw that Wylan had lain out smoked sausage, cheese, bread and apples. It was late for a midday meal, but I had not eaten and I was hungry. “I wondered how long it would be before your stomachs brought you below stairs.” There was amusement in his voice. As much as Wylan talked about mages enjoying a life of solitude, I think he secretly looked forward to days when Jabari came to visit. Thoughts about the book momentarily deserted us both at the sight of the food. We sat and ate in silence, but Jabari ate one handed, never letting go of the book.

  Once we finished our meal, I spoke. “Thank you for the food, but we came down here to talk about the rune book. Jabari says he thinks he understands it. He cannot read it, but he understands some of it.”

  Wylan looked at the book in the large youth’s hand and then into his eyes. “You sense the power in it then?”

  Jabari nodded gravely. “Th-th-the shield, I-I-I think if I c-c-can just g-g-get the runes r-r-right...” He thumbed through the pages again, shaking his head at the answer which still was not manifesting itself.

  “My master, Napu believed the book came from a culture so ancient, its history has been lost to time. He told me these symbols were drawn by ancient magic users called diviners. They could harness magic powers by drawing the symbols. Perhaps you are descended from them and that is why you feel a small amount of power in the text.”

  Jabari looked at Wylan, then down at the floor. “Th-th-the h-h-holy m-m-man will b-b-be c-c-coming to our h-h-house s-s-soon t-t-to h-h-hold th-th-the c-c-ceremony.” It was common practice for more devoutly religious families to hold a coming of age ceremony for children who reached the age of sixteen. The holy man asked for the blessings of the gods and gave the youth divine guidance for their future path. Ordinarily, the ceremony confirmed that the boy should continue on his chosen career path and that he should marry whatever girl he had been courting. For someone like Jabari, who was not very good at his chosen path and who also had a stutter, the ceremony sometimes had a very different outcome. “D-d-decide if I am to become In-In-In…” he tried the word again “In-In-vi…”

  “Invisible,” whispered Wylan. He glanced at me, then spoke again, “If Safi is done with that book, perhaps you would like to have it? It is no help to us, and if it truly did belong to your ancient ancestors, it does you far more good than it ever did for us. Perhaps it truly is ready to give up its secrets to you.” Jabari looked down at the short, thick illuminated volume then back up at Wylan. Suddenly he was off his seat, embracing my mentor in a big, enthusiastic bear hug. Not even I had ever dared hug Wylan and I knew him better than anyone in the world. I watched him stiffen in the boy’s embrace though he looked more surprised than incensed. Jabari grinned from ear to ear, completely oblivious to Wylan’s discomfiture.

  My friend left soon after, still leafing through the pages of the book as he walked up the path. I hoped he would not be trampled by an oncoming carriage. I turned to Wylan. “Do you think the book will truly give him the power of a warrior?”

  Wylan shrugged, “Even if it does not, sometimes we make our own magic.” He ran his fingers over the crystal on the top of his staff. “When a boy is born with challenges, be they mental or physical, finding self confidence can be difficult. Sometimes belief in a power outside of oneself can help to spark belief in the true power within.” He stood from the table. “It seems unlikely that the seventh son of Savan, our favorite carriage driver would be descended from ancient diviners, but you and I come from humble origins too. Who knows why magic touches those of us it chooses so yes, I do think Jabari will find power in that book. It just may not be the power he is expecting.”

  ***

  It was three days before I saw Jabari again. I had my duties in the tower, and he helped his father when he was not trying to prove himself to be a worthy soldier. As I crested the rise, I could see two figures standing in the middle of the practice field. I assumed it was the Lord Mayor, come to watch me eat humble pie, but as I drew nearer, I saw that it was Prince Taye standing with Master Manu. I worried that perhaps I was in more serious trouble than I had imagined. I approached the pair, trying to keep my face neutral though my knees were knocking. “Good morrow, young Safi. I have had a report from Father about the events of three days ago.” My heart thudded in my chest. I tried to swallow, but my throat was suddenly dry. “He says your magic is impressive, but your sword work is not progressing as quickly and as smoothly as he would like.”

  I bowed deeply, grateful that I had raised the hood on my robe. What Wylan had said all those months ago had proved true. No one ever really questioned my gender, but I was still nervous whenever I was in the presence of a member of the royal family “Yes, Your Majesty, I deeply regret using magic during the combat demonstration.”

  The prince waved away my apology. “In actual battle, we do whatever we have to in order to stop the enemy. I think perhaps the boy was taught a valuable lesson that day.” He turned to the assembled boys. “It is an important lesson for any boy in this class who wishes to become a knight under my command. Never underestimate your foe and never antagonize your allies. Always stay on the good side of a mage, boys.”

  He turned to Master Manu. “Master, if you would take the boys and continue with the lesson, Father would like for me to give some personal guidance to young Safi and his sparring partner.” I had not even realized Jabari was on the field until that moment. As usual, he was standing apart from the other boys, but there was something different about his bearing. He was not hunched into himself. He stood with his back straight, leaning against the side of the barn. He pushed off the wall and walked towards us and my eyes widened. Gone was the awkward, duck-footed gait. He almost glided across the short distance that separated us. When he stood before us, he gave me a brief pointed gaze, but I did not understand his meaning. He bowed deeply to the prince but he did not speak. He remained there until the prince finally broke the silence. “Rise, boy. I want to see your form. You two go through the first five drills.” We raised our swords in salute and bowed at each other. The moment we crossed wooden blades and I raised my shield, I knew there was something very different about my friend’s fighting style. He sailed through the thrusts and parries with speed and grace. He looked like the elite fighters we had watched training with the prince’s squad. It was impossible for me to keep up with him. All I could do was try to stay out of the path of his sword. If he had not been pulling his blows, I knew I would have been a dead woman. This was not the fighter I had sparred with at the beginning of the week.

  When we had finished, the prince stood staring at us, lost in thought. When he spoke again, he addressed me first. “Safi, tell me what you would do in a combat situation when faced with such a clearly superior opponent? What would you do if the battle was real and your life was truly on the line?”

  I searched my mind, trying to recall what Master Manu had said about defending against larger, faster opponents, but no advice came to mind. The prince spoke and interrupted my thoughts. “Why do you hesitate?”

  “I fear my answer would not be satisfactory, Your Majesty. I do not know what I could do with the sword that would stop a foe bent on doing me harm. In truth, I would not choose to use the sword at all. I would stop an attacker with magic.”

  The prince nodded in approval. “Well answered, young man. We play to our strengths and use every tool at our disposal. In a few moments, I would like to see a demonstration of your true weapon of choice, but first, may I please borrow your sword? I would like to measure the skills of your young opponent for myself.” I handed him my shield
and sword, hilt first, and stepped back. He took them, then bowed to me and turned to face Jabari and nodded. “Take me through the exercises at your own pace, son.” Watching my friend and the prince spar was like watching a graceful but deadly dance. The prince held back at first, but as Jabari proved to be a worthy opponent, he began to push harder. Jabari was still half a head shorter than the prince and much less experienced, but his form was finer than any other pupil in Master Manu’s class. I felt a swell of pride in my friend, though I had no idea how he was accomplishing any of this. By the time the exercise was complete, Master Manu and the rest of the pupils had gathered to watch as well.

  Both men were breathing heavy by the end of the exercise. “What is your name, young man?”

  Jabari opened his mouth to speak, but Manu interrupted, “His name is Jabari, Sire. He is simple and he does not speak well. Now that he is approaching manhood, the holy men will likely have him declared Invisible.”

  The prince looked at my friend. Jabari stood straight, turned to the prince and spoke for himself. “I-I-I do not speak well, but I am not simple.” The last two words were spoken with some ferocity.

  “I do not need convincing, young man. How old are you?”

  “I am f-f-fifteen, Your M-M-Majesty,”

  The prince stroked his chin. “It is a little young to begin training for knighthood, but you are a big lad and, if your father does not object, I think we can make an exception.”

  Manu spoke again. “Sire, I really must protest. There is some trickery at work here. Just last week, this boy was nearly as poor a swordsman as Safi. Now he is elite fighting force material? I believe the mage must have enchanted his weapon in some way.”

  I shook my head. “If I could manage that sort of enchantment, I would have done it for myself.”

  “Let him try it again with my sword then.” It was Chicha who spoke. He looked utterly smug as he traded sword and shield with Jabari. I worried. I could not see any runes on my friend’s weapons, but obviously he had found a way to make the runes from that old book work. Jabari took his sword and repeated the performance with equal skill and grace. It was not the weapon giving him a boost.