by Justin Sloan
“It’s… amazing.”
“You see this stuff, you’d think his collection’s complete, right?” Donnon laughed. “Not remotely. He has these tunnels set up for transportation, getting around without the paladins knowing, but really, I think it’s his excuse to excavate, to see what he can learn about them—the people from before the Age of Madness.”
“Have you learned anything, I don’t know, of value?”
“They had many oddities, that’s for sure. But you look at some of this stuff, like there.” He pointed to a corner where a cylindrical metal object sat, with a painting of a woman on its side, twice the size of a real one. “They were artistic, technologically advanced to a level we’ll never understand, and yet… not a single sign of them knowing magic that we can find.”
“But I can’t imagine what that would look like anyway.”
He nodded. “True enough. Could there even have really been a world with all of this, but without the ability to do what we do?”
The idea of being lumped into the group of people who can use magic scared her and a lump caught in her throat. “Why are you all telling us all this? Aren’t you afraid we’ll return and tell the others?”
He looked at her with trusting, caring eyes. “You’ll never fit in with their kind again. I’m sorry to say it, but it’s true. You’re done there. The paladin, too, I imagine.”
“That’s quite enough,” Alastar said. He stood at the table, holding out a chair for Rhona.
She smiled and said, “Excuse me,” before joining her brother. She made sure to give him a very annoyed glare before taking her seat.
“At last,” Estair said, her eyes lingering on Rhona and Alastar, “it seems we’re ready to unite Roneland.”
Alastar had just taken a sip from his mug, but nearly spat it out. “Excuse me?”
“The Lady speaks about an old legend here,” Lokane leaned forward and offered him a plate of turnips and greens, “told of a time when the paladins would come to realize that their magic is not so different from our own.”
“I’m sorry,” Alastar said, eyeing the plate of food and finally accepting. He scooped some onto this plate and handed it to Rhona. “But what makes you think this would ever happen?”
“It’s not about thinking. It’s about hoping.”
Estair nodded. “It’s about surviving, if we’re being truthful here. The Storm Raiders grow in force, so I’m told, and there are other threats. Your castle wasn’t the first to be taken down by a small army of sorcerers. In fact, we learned of them a week ago when a man came here in tatters, shouting about death and destruction. Two clans united to form a squad of fire mages and ice mages to stand against them… but were destroyed like a dry leaf, crumpled and blown to the wind.”
The others around the table shook their heads, each of their eyes holding the terror that Rhona felt coursing through her chest. In spite of her hunger and exhaustion, and the buttery smell of roasted potatoes that had been so enticing moments before, she now seemed to have lost her appetite.
“How can we hope to stand against them?” she found herself saying.
The answer came in the form of all eyes on her, and then her brother’s mouth opened slowly before he said, “They mean for your powers to lead the defense.” He stood, his seat flying backward. “That’s why he brought us here, once he saw.” He spun on Donnon. “You led us here knowing this?”
He shook his head. “I already told you, I came for the healer.”
Estair narrowed her eyes at this, then said, “Ah, I received the message. You must be Donnon, then?”
Giving her a slight nod, he said, “We thought the message might not be enough to convince you.”
“True, it might not have, and in fact, I’m forced to wonder why you wouldn’t return to your own clan with this paladin, if you needed a healer.”
His expression became grim at that. “The thought had crossed my mind, but these two needed shelter, and rest.”
“So you put their needs ahead of your own.” She nodded, pleased. “Here’s the situation we find ourselves in. Donnon is in need of a healer, Rhona in need of a teacher—”
“I am?” Rhona asked.
“You are, or you may never fully understand the depth of your powers.”
“I don’t understand something,” Alastar said, eyes focused on Estair. “You are apparently fire mages, or those of you who wield magic. In what way are you a healer, too, then?”
Her smile was pleasant, but with a deep sorrow in her eyes. “They asked that of my parents, too, before they took me from them as a young child. They asked if I was praying, if I was somehow trained in the paladin arts, maybe a secret training on the side. The answer to all of those questions was no, which is why I know your prayers are magic and nothing more. I know, because we have the same powers, Alastar. You and I are not as different as you want to believe.”
He blinked hard, reached for his chair to sit, but ended up sitting in the open air where his seat had been before it fell backwards. When he hit the ground with a clang, he was barely able to stand again, and Rhona stood to help him to his feet, then righted his chair for him.
When he was seated, he took a long drink of water from his cup, then stared at Estair and said, “Show me.”
She smiled, and then her eyes glowed gold, and the room darkened, just before brightening beyond belief. It was like daylight, and many had to shield their eyes as they adjusted.
With a wave of her hands, Estair let the light fade into a shield around her, much like the ones Alastar made, and then sent the light across the table to bathe Rhona and Alsatar in a tingling warmth.
The fright vanished along with the pains in Rhona’s stomach, and the food suddenly looked appealing again.
“You see,” Estair said. “Not a moment’s prayer. You damn paladins think you’re so much better than us, think you’re holy. But our magic comes from the same place—and no amount of ‘pure living’ changes the fact that you’re as human as the rest of us.”
Alastar stared at her, eyes twitching, and then he stood again, turned to Rhona and said, “We’re done here,” before storming away from the table and back the way they came.
“I’ll… talk to him,” Rhona said as she leaped up from her chair. She darted over and caught up with him at the tunnel entrance. “Alastar, wait!”
He spun, but where she expected to see fury, there was sorrow in his glistening eyes.
“Wh—what do we do?” she asked.
He reached out to lean against the dirt wall for support, his posture bent as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “It’s some kind of cheap trick. It must be. Rodrick sent that witch to test my faith. They can’t expect me to forsake everything I’ve ever believed in, simply because some witch can replicate what the Saint has granted me.”
“Then don’t. Don’t abandon faith, if that’s what drives you. Is there a Saint Rodrick out there, looking over us in spirit or something? Hell, I don’t know. But what I do know is that they make a lot of sense. If this army of sorcerers is moving through the land, and somehow, they can track where I am, that’ll be tough for us to handle on our own. But if we find ourselves a team, if we go after the Sword of the Light and find it, we might just be unstoppable.”
“The power of light and the power of dark,” he said with a laugh. “The pair we would make.”
“Brother and sister, ridding the world of evil.”
He frowned. “Assuming evil now means something entirely different from what we have always been raised to believe.”
“It’s an assumption we’ll have to make. That, or burn me at the stake right now. Either way, this power is a part of me. I feel it too strongly to believe anything else.”
He nodded and then took her in an embrace. “Tell them we’re in. We’ll help them, but… I see you with that Donnon guy again, I’ll have to say my piece.”
“How about instead, we’re in, and I’ll do whatever the hell I want with whomev
er the hell I want?”
Although he rolled his eyes, he nodded, and they turned back to the table to see the others watching them.
“We’re in agreement then?” Estair called over.
Rhona nodded. “Just tell us where to sign, and it’s on.” They all looked at her like she was an idiot. “Oh, just… yeah, we’re on board.”
With a cheer, they welcomed her and Alastar back to the table, and made sure they were eating well this time. When the first bite of lamb stew filled her mouth with warmth and the taste of shallots and carrots, she closed her eyes and had to keep herself from moaning. She opened her eyes to see Donnon staring with a smile at the corner of his mouth, so she turned away, blushing.
“Remember,” Alastar said, playfully. “Stay away from him.”
She playfully kicked him, gently though so as not to hurt her toes on his armor. “You remember, stay the hell out of my business.”
He laughed and then took a bite of his lamb, not even caring to wipe the grease from his chin, he was so lost in the moment of ecstasy.
From the sounds of what they were about to get themselves into, there wouldn’t be much opportunity for rest and relaxation. They had better enjoy it while they had the chance, Rhona thought to herself as she took another mouthful of her stew.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Alastar knelt at the side of the bed they had given him, if you could call it that, in what was to be his sleeping quarters. This particular room looked like it had once been a half of a living room, with the stones that had made up a fireplace that was now caved in. The ‘bed’ was just several cloths thrown down on the floor.
He had found a corner to stash his armor and recoiled at the putrid stench that wafted up from his armpits, now that the armor was off. A bath would have been perfect after the feast at the castle, in preparation for his holy quest. Instead, those damned sorcerers had come along and messed everything up. He’d have to remember to bathe in the morning, if there was any sort of bathing facility here. They had drinking water, so if nothing else, that would have to do.
“Holy Saint,” he said, hands clasped and eyes closed, “grant me virtue, honor, and devotion. See me through these hard times so that I may see you shine.” He felt his head rolling as he nodded off, nearly losing the prayer to sleep. He wanted a lot of things at the moment—peace of mind, his sister to have never used magic in the first place, and to fulfill his honor and see that those who attacked the paladins should meet his blade.
But right about now, sleep pulled at his desires above all else.
His body would have likely cracked and ached as he lay down, if not for the healing spell the Lady Estair had put over him.
He rolled over on the cloths, trying to get comfortable, when he froze at the sight of a shadow falling across his room. In a moment, he was sitting up with his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Can a man never rest?”
“A man could,” came a woman’s voice. “But then he would miss out on so much of life.”
“Better to miss out and live, than to die from exhaustion.”
“A man should let a woman care for his needs.” She leaned against the doorway and, once again, the neckline of her dress fell to reveal more skin than he was comfortable being around.
“Even if I were at a point where I could be willing to betray my vows, I promise you, I haven’t the energy.”
“Don’t worry, I’m only testing your resolve.” She adjusted her clothes to cover the bare flesh and entered, leaning against the wall so that she could look down on him. “Thing is, I need to make sure you’re loyal once you put your heart to something.”
“Loyalty is my strong suit.” He tilted his head, wondering where she could be going with this. “But my loyalty still stands behind my faith.”
“And yet, you abandoned your castle to see your sister, a magic user, to safety. You were getting her away from there as much as you were getting her away from the sorcerers, am I wrong?”
He turned his gaze to the earth at his feet, as dark as it was. The only light came from one of the torches out in the hallway, which was at this moment casting deep shadows across the room.
“It’s only ever been me and her,” he said. “I’d burn the world to the ground if it meant saving her.”
“We start training tomorrow, after you have slept. I mean to show you that everything you’ve thought about life with those paladins is wrong.”
He turned to look at her, unable to ignore the way the light highlighted her curves. With a simple nod, he lay back and closed his eyes.
“Guess I better get on with my sleep then,” he said, and could barely hear her saying something in response as sleep overcame him at last.
***
Rhona only slept four or five hours, but when she woke, she felt completely rested. She returned to the dining area, realizing she hadn’t eaten nearly enough the night before, and was pleased to see an array of freshly roasted vegetables and several loaves of bread.
No one else was around, so she helped herself, wondering if her brother was still sleeping, but not knowing where they had put him for the night.
This was so strange, being in the hideout of the same people she had called enemy just the day before.
She was one of them, in more ways than she was happy to admit.
“At last,” Estair said, emerging as she wrapped herself in a new outfit. Unlike the blue and black she had worn the night before, this one was violet with a hem of gold. “I trust you are ready?”
“Ready for…?”
“Ah, you must not have spoken with your brother yet then. We must ensure you understand your powers before we’re ready to leave this place, when the time comes.”
“So you mean to come with us?”
Estair leaned against the table and scratched at the wood with her fingernail, furrowing her brow. “Honestly, I’d prefer not to. But I have a feeling you’re going to need our help.”
“You haven’t seen what I’m capable of,” Rhona replied.
“Show me then.”
With a frown, Rhona stood and concentrated.
Nothing happened.
She held up a finger, closed her eyes, and focused on everything within her, the good and bad energy, all of it floating up and out, around her head. But when she opened her eyes, again there was nothing.
“It’s all very intimidating,” Estair said with a smirk. “Thing is, staring at your pretty face will only distract them long enough for your brother to take down one, maybe two. But what if there are three attackers?”
“I get your point.”
“Good, then you’ll know why you have to come with me.” She hopped down and started walking.
“What, now?”
“Your brother’s still asleep, and you’re not. Sounds like the perfect time.”
Rhona couldn’t argue, so she stood and followed the lady out of the dining area and into a tunnel that led upwards. Soon, a bright light shone that made her pull back, and after a moment of her eyes adjusting, she realized it was the sun.
“Outside?”
“You’ll see.”
They emerged into what looked like a large sink-hole. The edges above were guarded by trees, so that the sun only made its way in when directly above, as it was now.
“We train here, more often than not,” Estair said, gesturing around to the torches placed around and a small pool of water on one side. “It’s not likely anyone will find this location, as it’s well hidden, and looks like a sink hole if they do find it. Too dangerous to be worth exploring.”
She turned to Rhona and smiled. “First, any questions?”
“Probably more than you could count. But aye, how the hell do you expect to teach me magic when you don’t even understand what my magic is?”
“Actually, I was hoping our guests could take a crack at that.”
“Guests?” Rhona frowned, looking around, but seeing no one.
“They should be…” Estair held
up her hand so a light shone, and then she pointed. “There!”
Two shadows had appeared on the ground in the shape of robed men. One moment there was nothing there but the shadows, the next, two men were standing there, smiling.
“Well, we couldn’t just hang around all morning in plain sight,” the taller of the two said. They both had shaved heads and wore thick, gray robes.
“I told you, no one comes out this way,” Estair replied. “And if they did, they wouldn’t come down here.” She gave Rhona a men, ugh glance and then said, “Allow me to introduce Larick and Volney, two mystics from the Arcadian Valley.
Rhona had heard of the valley before, and that piqued her curiosity. “Mystics?”
“Practitioners of mental magic,” Larick said with a friendly smile. “We’ve come here to educate, and see who we might be interested in bringing back with us to train further.”
“I’ve never heard of mental magic,” she admitted. “So you, what? Move stuff with your minds?”
Volney shook his head. “No, though, we could make you think we were. In simple terms, it’s more about altering thoughts, creating the idea that we’re doing something.”
“I assure you, I don’t ever need something dumbed down for me.”
Larick laughed. “No disrespect meant, I’m sure.”
“These two have been helping us to understand our own powers,” Estair said. “Though, I have to say, I don’t agree with everything they preach.”
“What the Lady is referring to,” Volney said, stepping forward and looking over Rhona as if he was reading a book, “is that, we in the Arcadian Valley understand magic to be something within all of us, you just have to know how to access it. It’s not that some are born with it while others aren’t. It’s that some learn how to access it, while others live their entire lives in ignorance.”
“Basically, what he’s saying,” Larick cut in, “is that the concepts you all have come to understand as spirits, or familiars, and magic… it’s all something created here, a way of understanding magic because of your cultural heritage, your past beliefs and mythology.”
