Beyond the Sapphire Gate: Epic Fantasy-Some Magic Should Remain Untouched (The Flow of Power Book 1)

by R. V. Johnson

“I am not too troubled, you have the ability to recognize danger, perhaps even gather a sense of some intent. The essence of a druidic soul lies within you. Alas, I will have to endure Caven’s Kern for a while yet. Pray it is not too long or I may have to fall on my sword.”

  Camoe looked so morose Jade curbed her smile. “Don’t even think about it. I need you around when I get back.”

  Camoe smiled then, but it was brief.

  True to his prediction, Caven returned a moment later, bringing a younger, red-haired monk with him. “This is Dirk,” Caven said. The monk gave a short bow. Jade attempted a slight curtsy in return. “He’s been at the monastery for the largest portion of his young life. This last season he accepted the appointment as personal assistant, after my old one grew ill and went to meet the Great Mother. You’ll like him, though he has a tendency to talk too much about history, which makes him a good guide for your purposes. Is this acceptable?”

  The monk, Dirk, watched her, his boyish face—barely older than hers—was stony, but his lean frame seemed tense. “Yes, so long as he answers my questions as best he can.”

  Dirk smiled, his rigid stance relaxing a little. “Then it is decided. Is my lady ready?”

  A bell tinkled. Caven nodded farewell and headed back the way they’d come, albeit reluctantly.

  Camoe grimaced. “It sounds like they’re ready in the Council chamber,” he said. “Have a care, Dirk. Treat her well; she is a lady in every sense of the word. Treat her well,” he repeated. “Or deal with me.”

  “I will show her the same respect as I would my sister,” Dirk said.

  Camoe glanced at him sharply his eyes gray, and then strode after Caven. “See that you do,” hung in the air long after he caught up to his brother.

  Abruptly, Jade was alone with the young monk. The tenseness she’d sensed in his manner had vanished with his easy smile. The smile suited his narrow, clean-shaven face and confident stance. Bowing slightly, he made a wide, sweeping motion with his arm, indicating their departure path, the same open door he’d entered with his Prominence. “Shall we begin, my lady?”

  Passing through the main hall, Dirk held the main entrance door wide. Jade strode out into the golden brightness of the morning sun. The monastery square was abuzz with activity. Several monks strolled nearby, deep in conversation. Many hurried past on some errand known only to them. At the front of a temple, scaled down and built to resemble the great cathedral they’d dined inside of the first night, some half-dozen monks knelt on mats, their heads bowed. Through the paned windows and open double doors, a miniature-winged statue of the woman resided, carved with the same breathtaking detail as the original. Bright, potted flowers lined stone shelves on three sides.

  A shadow shorter than hers came to a standstill in front of her. “Exquisite, is it not?” Dirk’s soft baritone voice asked from beside her.

  “Who is the winged woman inside?”

  “Do you not recognize the revered Mother Mary? Come, I will take you to the most beautiful representation of the Mother to be found anywhere on our great world.”

  “If you mean the one in the cathedral, don’t bother. I’ve already been there.”

  “Then how can you not know the revered Mother? I’m afraid I do not understand.”

  “Let’s just say we are from two different backgrounds and leave it at that. I’d like to see the monastery from the outside. I’ve been inside too long.”

  Dirk hesitated, a quick smile flashing across his lips. “As you wish, my lady; we shall tour the monastery’s battlements, though I fear beyond this square, there is only one other sight worthy of your captivating, lovely eyes.”

  Jade flushed at the compliment. Not certain how to respond, she chose to ignore it, after all, they’d just met. “Sounds good enough to me, lead the way.”

  “No please, walk beside me. Our path lies at the end of the square behind the temple.”

  Dirk set an unhurried pace around the shrine, folding his hands in front of his brown, monkish robes. The robes weren’t bulky on his lean frame as they were on every other monk she’d seen.

  Behind the shrine, the wall ended on two sides, leaving a wide space open to the rest of the mountaintop’s leveled grounds. They went through, moving toward some of the tall structures with the statues paired at the entrances. Jade thought of something to fill the silence. “Tell me about the statues in front of the buildings. Do they have a history?”

  Dirk’s ebony eyes regarded her sharply. Then he smiled. “At first, I believed my lady jested, but your interest appears genuine. There are indeed chronicles relating to them as with all the structures. He pointed to a large, rectangular stone and wood building off to their left. A gigantic pair of winged statues gazed upon the cobblestone walk with expressions of unnerving ferocity. “The sleeping quarters are designated by the gargoyle. The masons of old believed the creatures would frighten away nightmares, being as fearsome as the frights themselves. Birds bring food to their young. He gestured toward a squat, but high-peaked structure on their right. “Those statues over there are meant to designate a place to acquire sustenance in the refectory sculleries. The dragon marks the armory, farther along the walk, is where combat training and the making of fine chain mail are taught.”

  “You all wear chain mail under the robes?”

  “By the great kingdom of Light, we do not! Only the elder monks do, aiding in battle when the Light or the revered Mother are threatened.”

  “What about the monk statues at the tallest cathedral? Are they Dark Lords?”

  “Dark Lords? Nay lady, they were but simple prominences known for their wise leadership, though the necessities of war forced them both into becoming master strategists and commanders in the wars against the Dark Users.”

  “Wouldn’t that make them battle lords? After all, they directed battles.”

  Dirk’s narrow eyes rounded. “By the Great Light—may He shine for eternity—no! They were but pious monks flung into the War of Countless Sorrows when our fledgling monastery came under fire from the horde of Dark Users. It was their downfall. Over ten seasons they assaulted our fortress. Finally, the rest of the White Lands regrouped and forced the dark ones to retreat. It was the monks’ worst and greatest seasons in history.”

  Jade almost smiled at his enthusiasm. Dirk was proving to be affable and knowledgeable, not to mention handsome in a plain, monkish way, an odd combination. Much different from the usual string of suitors she’d had back home. To be fair, he wasn’t a suitor—at least, not yet—nor were there any monks on her world. The sect leaders probably had the closest bearing to them.

  The hours flew by as her escort guided her through three large buildings with high cathedral ceilings, stained tile, and picturesque scenes, each as exquisite as the one before it. In the late afternoon, they stopped at the kitchens for a quick bite. Dirk led her to a small, two-person table placed off to one side. Dropping the tray of goods on the table, he plopped into a chair and grabbed a goblet of water. After taking a long, noisy gulp, he set his drink on the table and smiled. “Forgive me, my lady. I’ve regaled the day away. Has my supreme knowledge of all things pious and historical kept you captivated beyond hope of redemption?

  Jade laughed, longer than his comment merited, but it felt good to laugh again. It seemed so long ago. She bit into a pastry. The sweet tartness of strawberries tingled on her tongue, awakening a fierce yearning for the carefree days on the Farm with Crystalyn. Would she ever see her again? She finished the pastry and drank half her water before answering Dirk question, though he probably never expected one. His flirting was transparent. “You’ve certainly mentioned a lot of the monastery’s rich history. Tell me a little about the world beyond this place. I know you came here at a young age, do you remember much of it before coming here?”

  Dirk’s mouth tightened. He picked up a pastry, and then set it down untouched. “There’s not a lot to mention. Brother Alexander found me begging at the Brown Recluse markets below our estee
med monastery when I was seven or eight—no one knows the exact season that I drew first breath. He convinced me to climb up the mountain and plea for the rite of passage and become an acolyte. The rest you know. His most excellent Prominence Caven likely spoke of it.”

  Jade flashed a brief smile. “I’m glad you climbed the mountain and that you’re still here. I really needed a day like this. You’ve very knowledgeable and fun to be around, thank you so much.”

  Dirk stood. Smiling, he executed a small bow. “It has been my pleasure, my lady. However, the day is not over yet. I have a final wonder to show you.”

  Jade nodded, her excitement rising as she stood.

  Dirk strode outside. Jade rushed to follow. This time, he seemed to be in a hurry as he swung sharply left, his path taking him beyond any fabricated structure. He moved toward the highest cliff where no border wall loomed. Climbing a gentle upward slope, Dirk halted a few steps beyond where it leveled off. Jade followed slowly, her view expanding outward with each step forward. Distant mountains loomed vague behind a forest of monstrous falun trees far below. A great river cut through it, widening into a dark lake and then emptying into the swamplands she’d crossed in the east. Below her, cultivated land spread to the trees.

  Awed, Jade stopped beside her guide. “Are those farmlands down there?”

  His reply was slow to come. “Yes, yes…I suppose they are.”

  “Can we visit them sometime? I have a special fondness for farms. I grew up on one.”

  Dirk started, catching her eye. “Really? Good, good, you can see them better from over there. We call it the Peek.”

  Jade looked to where he gestured. The cliff’s edge tapered to a sharp point above the farmlands. The Peek was farther away from where they stood than she’d first thought. “Are you certain it’s safe? It looks kind of fragile.”

  “Yes, go on. The Peek has been here hundreds of seasons, millions. Go look.”

  Jade took a step forward. The longer she looked at the point, the more transparent it seemed. Transparent? The whole edge of the mountain peak out to the sharp point seemed transparent now, open sky gaped below. As she looked, the area dimmed again, a new cliff edge faded into view, much too close.

  Jade focused on her guide, opening herself to her view of his aura. It was dark, and stayed that way as she slowed the rotation. A hooded man stood behind a faceless warrior in the first image. In the second, a flowery meadow shifted to sand then back to the meadow. The third frightened her. A foreboding, unidentifiable dark shape leaked blood into a growing pool about the bottom from many places. Jade lost her grip on the rotation. The aura spun.

  “Go to the Peek. Go now,” Dirk suddenly said.

  Jade started. “I’ve seen enough. I want to go back inside now.”

  Dirk’s small but strong hands slammed into her shoulders, pushing her backwards. “You have to view the Peek,” he mumbled, loud enough to hear.

  Frightened, Jade dug in her heels, pushing back against him. “Why are you doing this? What have I done?”

  “I’m sorry, Jade. Your being here will ruin everything, He has spoken.”

  “Who’s ‘he?’ Please don’t do this! I thought you liked me!”

  “I do, Jade. I am truly sorry.” Dirk spoke in a monotone as he pushed her backward with a strength belying his size.

  “Then don’t do it! Please, stop pushing!”

  Only the scraping of her heels on rock answered her plea. Dirk’s silence was as chilling as the maniacal determination embedded in the darkness of his eyes, the set of his jaw, the rigid, jerky movements of his body. He pushed her forward mechanically. Loose rocks under her feet clattered behind her then silenced with a frightening abruptness. The long drop was close, too close.

  Staring at his slack face, Jade dug her heels in deeper. She slowed, so did the dark vortex raging around him, one of the scenes continuing. With one brutish hand gripping Dirk’s head, the warrior forced him to his knees, a sword gripped in his free hand. The hooded man’s biceps bulged under gold bands as he unstopped a vial. Leaning forward, two hourglass eyes peered redly from the shadows of his cowl. The warrior pulled Dirk’s head back then jabbed his sword into the acolyte’s right foot. Dirk opened his mouth in a wide, soundless scream. The hooded man reached out with the vial. The image spun away.

  Jade stomped on Dirk’s right foot with her own.

  Grimacing, he let go and hopped backward.

  Jade scrambled past, running madly, but he knocked her to the ground before she got very far. Rolling her on her back, he grabbed her legs and pulled, dragging her toward the edge. Glancing about, she saw only smooth stone, nothing for a handhold. “Who was the hooded man Dirk? What did he do to you?” she asked in desperation.

  Dirk stopped, inches from the edge. He frowned. “How could you know? I have never told anyone.”

  Jade sat up. “What was in the vial he made you drink? What did it do to you?”

  Dropping her legs, Dirk putt his head in his hands, and sobbed. “I cannot tell you, not anyone, not ever.” Dropping his hands to his side, he straightened. A sad smile on crossed his lips, and a look of utter hopelessness dulled his eyes. Turning slowly, he stepped over the edge and vanished, the sound of the uprising wind slackened briefly.

  Only inches away, Jade scrambled from the edge, her heel catching on a rock. She fell back on her hands and bottom. The icy wind from the immense open space below blew her hair back, a chilling reminder of the great summit she sat upon alone. Sadness and shock warring within her, Jade crawled away.

  FIVE SETS OF EYES

  Crystalyn bolted upright, her heart thumping against her sternum. The worm had returned. A bloodied Lore Rayna savagely killed a white-robed man. Dark red blood gushed from five holes in his stomach where she impaled the man on five digits of her wooden, elongated hand. Her other hand, gored another. The poor men died without the strength to scream, though their mouths gaped wide with agony and their eyes bulged with shock and terror.

  Crystalyn’s eyelids sprang open. The vision faded.

  Leven’s wary face faded from sight, replaced by Kara Laurel’s clinical one. “How do you feel?”

  “Weak, my head throbs. No surprise there.”

  Kara Laurel flashed a brief smile. “I believe I know why. I did not see a link from your symbol back to you as it sank into the Valen, Lore Rayna. You did not ground yourself. It takes a conscious effort on a User’s part to do it, something requiring training beforehand. It is a process we never discussed in our last…encounter. From what little I know of your…Using—I imagine that is what you are doing—you will need to attach a constant link to your magic, somehow. Some part of the symbol’s pattern, perhaps. Then, as long as you are in contact with the ground or touching something that is, you shall have a proper ground. It should work with you as it does with every other User. All magic requires stabilization for some semblance of control. Some magic should remain untouched. As humans, even the other races, cannot access too much power at once, our bodies cannot take it. The Flow is too powerful. We shall begin training as soon as you are well enough for it. Can you sit up?”

  “I’d rather not try, right now. Can’t we just talk for a while?”

  Kara Laurel nodded, squatting beside her. “There is no rush. What matters is your health. After the…incident with the worm you fell into a comatose state, your breathing stilled. Leven has supplied you with as much energy as his adept ability was able to, scarcely enough to keep you inhaling oxygen. It was a narrow escape, and he’s much stronger at it than I am. He believes you may will be beyond his ability should it happen in the future.”

  A sudden chill swept through her. Whether from the lack of her apparent oxygen, or from Kara Laurel’s matter-of-fact statement, she wasn’t sure. She’d never considered her use of symbols would ever put her in harm’s way, let alone in death’s way. She needed to learn more about this grounding of her symbols when she’d healed. “Tell me more of the worm. How would Lore Rayna get the inf
ection?”

  “Somewhere during your travels, Lore Rayna must have attempted a Contacting through a dark veil. Though rare, it has happened when someone attempts a Contacting into the Dark Lands where creatures like dominion wraiths—an old and particularly vile evil—lie in wait. The Dark Users have learned how to attach a neural spell, a mind worm, to the wraith without affecting its evil purpose. Whenever a Contacting brushes against a wraith, the worm slips into the link and follows it back to the source. This particular worm was magically instructed from the outset to command its host to kill Durandas, a feat only accomplished by their most powerful.”

  “Did they want Durandas the man, or the First on the Circle of Light?” Crystalyn mused.

  “That, I cannot answer for certain, though I suspect they were after Durandas the man. He is quite powerful, and so has numerous enemies. Instructing the worm to differentiate between a person and a political position would be quite involved.”

  Crystalyn gave a weak nod. It made sense, somewhat. Someone had covered her to the neck in a soft blanket and shoved a firm pillow under her neck, yet the hard flooring added to the chill through her backside. A small glance around informed her she was still in the Assembly Hall at the base of Durandas’ table. The vast room was devoid of all but a few robed people gathered into small groups. Other than a frowning Leven hovering behind Kara Laurel, the white robes kept their distance. Her friends stood grouped nearby, but she didn’t see her large friend, the worm carrier. “Lore Rayna! Did your healers save her?” Crystalyn said, suddenly worried she’d failed after all.

  Kara Laurel smiled, longer this time. “Remarkably, she seems near full recovery in just a few short bells.”

  Crystalyn found it hard to believe. “I’ve been out for hours?” It didn’t feel like hours, only an hour. Her body still needed some rest.

  “Yes, nine bells, to be precise. We did not deem it wise to move you, not with your breathing so frail. Lore Rayna’s asked to see you, so have your three companions. I shall not permit it until you are able to sit on your own.”