Knight of a Trillion Stars

by Dara Joy

  “It is more complicated than that. You began your training years ago. You know there can be many facets to a seemingly simple stone.”

  “Do not speak to me of Charl training! I will not hear of it! Think you I would heed the teachings of such a body of righteous hypocrites after what they did to my bloodline?”

  “You condemn all Charl for the actions of the Guild?”

  “Do not ask me such questions; I will not answer.”

  “Has it ever occurred to you that the Guild has regretted its decision?”

  Traed slashed his hand through the air. “It is of no interest to me!”

  “Ah, but it is, Traed. They ask that you take your rightful place by joining them.”

  Traed laughed, a sarcastic sound devoid of humor. “How touching after all these years,” he sneered.

  “Your father is a sixth-level mystic, Traed. You have a destiny to follow.”

  “Perhaps. But not with the Charl.”

  Yaniff nodded sagely. “You may be right in that.”

  “So, have you called me back to ask me to recant and join the Charl?”

  “No. That is not why you are here. As I mentioned to you, Lorgin set out to investigate the situation regarding the disturbances.”

  “What did he find?”

  “For one thing, he found Adeeann.”

  Traed was surprised. “His wife?”

  “She wears the Shimalee.”

  “I know—I have seen it. It is connected in some way to these disturbances?”

  “Yes. I had discovered that the disturbances on the Rim were causing rifts in time and space. Since all corridors of time and space are linked by the Shimalees, there definitely appears to be a connection.”

  Traed thought about the serious ramifications should the continuity of the continuum be compromised. He could not help but be concerned. “Continue, Yaniff.”

  “Lorgin knew of the prophecy regarding the first in the line of Krue and she who wears the Shimalee, but at the time, he did not know how interconnected it would become with this quest. He took Adeeann to wife, bringing her with him. Then he set about to track down a rumor I had heard—a rumor about a man, not a diviner, who had somehow found a phasing stone. One can only speculate that such a man would seek to unlock its mysteries. Eventually, Lorgin was able to discover his identity.”

  “Someone is creating these rifts? By Aiyah, why would anyone do such a thing?”

  “Here is where we come full circle, Traed. As much as you dislike Charl analogy, you will forgive me my allusion: another facet of the stone is revealed.”

  “How so?”

  “The action of the Guild comes back to haunt them, as I warned them it would.”

  Traed seemed confused. “I do not understand.”

  Yaniff leveled his compelling gaze directly onto Traed.

  “It is Theardar who is causing the rifts. Theardar who found the phasing stone. Theardar who very well might destroy all existence with his tampering.”

  Traed slumped in his seat, deathly pale. “My father uses his powers in darkness?”

  “It is so.”

  Traed closed his eyes, the enormity of what his father was doing overwhelming him. “What do you want from me?” he whispered brokenly.

  “I seek Theardar on the Rim. Lorgin will go to face him. Will you stand with us?”

  A moan of pain issued from Traed’s throat. “Do not ask this of me, I beg you!”

  “I do not ask it lightly, I assure you. It is a terrible thing to ask a son to stand against his father. Your life has not been an easy one, Traed. This will not be the only painful decision you will make in your life, but perhaps the most lasting.”

  Traed bolted out of his chair, turning away from Yaniff. He was silent for a long time. When he spoke, his voice was very quiet, very low. “How do you propose I make such a decision, mystic? Do not tell me there is no Charl platitude you can hand out just for this occasion?”

  “I understand your bitterness.”

  He turned around to stare at the old man. “Do you?”

  Yaniff’s face held sorrow. “More than you know.”

  Traed was immediately contrite. He knelt down in front of the old mystic.

  “Forgive me, Master.” Unconsciously he used the Charl title a supplicant calls his teacher. A title he had not spoken in years. Not since Lorgin and he were boys, studying together for the Charl, deeply honored to have been chosen to study with Yaniff.

  Yaniff placed a withered hand upon the bent head of Traed ta’al Theardar. So good a man, he lamented; so tormented a soul.

  “Arise, Traed. There is more. Another facet of the stone approaches. Your loyalties are soon to be divided further.”

  “What do you mean?”

  A light knock sounded at the door.

  “Enter, Rejar.”

  The door to the cottage swung open and Rejar ta’al Krue entered, his Familiar eyes immediately adjusting from bright sunlight to the darkened interior.

  “I wish to speak with you, old man.” His eyes flew to Traed. “Alone.”

  “Sit, Rejar. What you have to say to me is best said in front of Traed as well.”

  Rejar hesitated, not at all sure he should be saying what he had come to say in front of Traed.

  Yaniff got up and poured Rejar a warm cup of mir. Placing it in front of the Familiar, he said, “You must learn to trust me, my young friend. Speak what is in your heart.”

  Taking the mir in his hands, Rejar sipped slowly, thinking over his words. He would not enter Traed’s mind with his thoughts and therefore was forced to speak aloud.

  When he was ready, he looked directly across the table into Traed’s green eyes. “He is my brother of the line. I have sensed it.”

  Shock flitted across Traed’s face, followed by anger. “What lie does this Familiar speak?”

  Rejar was incensed. “No lie, Traed! I have sensed Lodarres blood in you and the bloodline is strong!” He turned to Yaniff. “How can this be, Yaniff? Familiar senses do not deceive, yet I cannot accept what my insight tells me is true, for to do so dishonors my name!”

  Traed got to his feet, furious. “How dare you impugn the name of Krue? A man of honor!” Traed whipped out his light saber in the blink of an eye, bringing it to bear on Rejar.

  Yaniff looked from one to the other of them, well pleased that Traed rose to defend the name of Rejar’s father. “Put away your light saber, Traed, and sit. What Rejar has said is the truth.”

  Retracting his blade, Traed staggered back to his chair, clearly startled by yet another unexpected revelation. A brother of the line. What Charl trickery was this?

  It was impossible. He said as much.

  “Since you are here, and you are indeed a Lodarres, Traed, it is not impossible, is it?”

  “Explain yourself!”

  Yaniff took a deep breath. “Your mother was the sister of Krue.”

  “No.” Rejar was emphatic. “My father had no siblings.”

  “Yes, Rejar, he did. He had one younger sister, whom he loved dearly.”

  The potential of Yaniff’s words was affecting both men. If it were true, Traed would be a son of the line to Krue. Since Traed was the only offspring of Krue’s only sibling, the power of descent in him would be strong. By Aviaran law, and Charl mystic belief, Traed could be called son of Krue.

  Rejar was shaken. “Why has this sister never been mentioned to us? Lorgin and I both were raised with the impression that my father had no other members in his line.”

  “The Tan-Shi were outraged when Marilan was taken. Since Theardar was a Charl, they partitioned the Guild for equanimity. Marilan had already taken the Oath, so the Tan-Shi asked the Guild that all references to her familial ties be forever severed, her name never mentioned outside the context of the Tan-Shi. The Guild rendered judgment in their favor. From that day forward, Krue could not acknowledge her existence as his sister.” Yaniff stared intently at Traed. “Nor claim you to his line, Traed. No matter ho
w much he desired it.”

  “Why punish my father for Theardar’s act?” Rejar revolted against this seemingly unfair ruling by the Guild.

  “He was a Charl. It was not personal. The Tan-Shi was demanding all Charl to share in the responsibility of one of their kind. They felt, and probably rightly so, that the Charl should have foreseen the problem and been more attentive to their own.”

  “Foreseen the problem?” Traed hissed. “An interesting choice of words, Yaniff. Did either the Tan-Shi or the Guild ever consider my existence or what such a decree would mean to me? I never even knew who my mother was.”

  “As I said, Traed, the Guild regrets its decision in regards to you. They seek to mend the breach.”

  “How unfortunate for them!” he snapped.

  The room went silent for several moments as Yaniff gave both men time for heated emotions to cool.

  “I ask that neither of you, as yet, discuss what has been revealed here with Lorgin. As you know, as the eldest, he would be honor bound. It is imperative he not be sidetracked at this time; Lorgin must remain focused on his objective.”

  Both men knew what Yaniff was saying. The old mystic believed it was more than a possibility that Lorgin might well be moved to stand for Traed. Lorgin would confront Theardar not as an agent of the Alliance, but with revenge in his heart. As first in the line of Krue, he would seek to make Theardar answer to him for Theardar’s conduct to the line of Lodarres. Such a confrontation could only bring grief at its conclusion.

  Rejar gazed down at the table; Traed glanced away. Both men nodded curtly.

  Traed rose, standing with his back to them, staring vacantly out the window. When he spoke, his low voice did not hide the conflict within him. “I will accompany you to the Rim. I will not stand against my father.”

  Yaniff inclined his head, relieved. “Very well, Traed.” It was enough, he thought…

  For a moment Yaniff’s conscience panged him for his manipulation of the younger man. Resigned to it, the mystic nonetheless grieved in his heart. In truth, Traed would suffer greatly for what lay ahead. There was no help for it.

  It was done.

  He addressed both of them. “Go. Walk with each other as brothers. If you seek it, you will find that the two of you have much in common.”

  The men rose, awkward with each other in light of their new relationship. Traed hesitated at the door, an ironic expression crossing his intense features; he turned back to Yaniff.

  “Lorgin said much the same to me on Zarrain. At the time, I thought his reasoning faulty.”

  Yaniff stroked Bojo’s feathers contemplatively. “You will find, as I have, Traed, that the reasoning of Lorgin ta’al Krue is rarely faulty.”

  Deana made her way through the woods, hoping she was following the right path to Yaniff’s house. Her pastel caftan shimmered in the daylight, sunlight picking up the gold threads in the dress and in her hair. She prayed Yaniff was feeling sociable today and she wouldn’t find herself back on the main road.

  The perfect opportunity had presented itself this morning; it would be a shame to waste it. Lorgin had told her he had further business with the Guild that day, suggesting she might like to visit with Suleila. Since she had suffered no lasting effects from her bout of overindulgence with the spun honey, she had seized upon the opening, telling Lorgin that, in all likelihood, she would.

  “Always take the left fork going there through the woods, the right coming back. You will not get lost,” he had said.

  “If I can remember it the correct way,” was her flip reply.

  “Just remember how ‘right’ it is to come home, zira.” She had stuck her tongue out at him then.

  When she had expressed her concern about wild creatures, both two and multilegged, he tossed the words enchanted, Guild, have no worry over his shoulder as he headed to the platform.

  Enchanted. She should have realized.

  It was a lovely walk, though. Breathing deeply, it suddenly struck Deana how wonderful she felt. It had been a long time since she had walked in the woods by herself. It was something no sane Earth woman would do. But, here on Aviara, things were different. No city noises. No exhaust fumes. No crazed maniacs to worry about…well, maybe one crazed maniac. Theardar.

  Aviara would be the perfect vacation spot for world-weary Earthlings, she mused. Too bad she couldn’t work out a deal with a local travel agency. Of course, there would be scores of loud-mouthed tourists overrunning these beautiful woods, taking snapshots of people taking snapshots, carpeting the forest floor with wadded-up hamburger wrappers, turning the Towering Forest into a chic pied-a-terre. Hmm…Bad idea.

  A small cottage came into view as she rounded a bend in the path.

  Yaniff’s home!

  She approached the dwelling, somewhat surprised at the simplicity of the surroundings. Somehow she had pictured Yaniff living in a home similar to Lorgin’s parents’. This small rustic cottage was the antithesis of their stately home.

  She raised her hand to knock on the door.

  Inside the house, Yaniff gazed up at Bojo who was nesting in his favorite spot in the rafters. Traed and Rejar had left a few moments ago. “A busy day for wizards, eh, Bojo? Come in, Adeeann.”

  Deana gingerly opened the door, peering inside. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Come, sit down. I want you to try something.” Yaniff bustled over to a sideboard, walking back with a small cup of hot, dark liquid in his hand. He placed it proudly before her, obviously waiting for her to taste it.

  Sitting down at the ancient wooden table, she cautiously brought the cup to her lips. What ever it was, it was horrible.

  Yaniff beamed at her. “Well, what do you think, Adeeann?”

  That’s when it hit her. Coffee. He had been trying to make coffee for her. The dear, kind, misguided man.

  “It’s…close, Yaniff.” She discreetly placed the cup on the table.

  The old wizard frowned. “I will keep working on it.”

  Deana was touched that he would try so hard to bring a portion of her world to her. “Thank you, Yaniff. It’s very sweet of you.” She could’ve sworn he blushed.

  “So, what brings you to visit with me today, Adeeann? Somehow I do not think you have come just to see me, although I would not mind this,” he hastily added.

  Deana took a deep breath, knowing she would have to state her case and state it well. Logically. Dispassionately. The relationship between Lorgin and Yaniff was a close one. The only way Yaniff would help her, she knew, was if she could show him the mistake Lorgin had made. If he believed her to be right, regardless of Lorgin’s wishes, she suspected that Yaniff would help her.

  “It has to do with this.” She held up her necklace.

  “The Shimalee.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m the wrong woman!” she blurted out. So much for stating her case dispassionately.

  Yaniff’s lips twitched. “What do you mean?”

  Her eyes filled with tears and the words poured out of her in a tumultuous rush. “Oh, Yaniff, I’m not the right woman. Lorgin has made a terrible mistake! He thinks he’s married to me, and I just found this—this thing in a junk shop. My God, a junk shop! What will he do when he finds out the truth? What will happen to him? I don’t know what to do! I desire him all the time and I don’t really look like this—”

  “Adeeann, calm down. Please, do not upset yourself so. Here, drink some of this mir; it will relax you.” He pushed his cup into her hand. She took a large swallow. “Better?” She nodded dejectedly. “Now, let us sort this problem out. First of all, what do you mean you do not look thus?”

  “It’s true,” she sniffed. “I don’t know what happened, but as soon as I met Lorgin I looked better—I can’t explain it. At first I thought he had cast some kind of spell on me—”

  “Lorgin does not do spells.”

  “Yes, I know; he told me. So the only thing I can think of is this stupid neckl
ace.” She looked up, belatedly realizing she probably had insulted one of their icons. “Oops. Sorry.”

  Yaniff waved it away. “Come to the mirror, Adeeann.” She did as he bid, standing next to him in front of a small gilded wall mirror. “‘Remove the Shimalee.”

  “Lorgin told me not to.”

  Yaniff smiled down at her, her statement revealing much to him. “It is quite all right, here. I assure you.”

  She carefully removed the necklace and placed it on the table.

  “Now look in the mirror and tell me what you see.”

  Deana did as he bid. “I look the same. I mean I look different, but the same.”

  “So we can assume it is safe to say it is not the necklace effecting this change in you. Tell me, what do you think is different in the way you look?”

  Deana shrugged. “It’s hard to define. I just sort of look better. Prettier.”

  Yaniff stroked his chin as if pondering the dilemma. “Perhaps you have always looked this way, but never noticed it?”

  She screwed up her face as she gazed in the mirror. “I don’t think so.”

  “To Lorgin you have always looked thus?”

  She nodded. “Yes. That’s why I suspected him right off.”

  “Hmm…I will have to think on this problem awhile.” Yaniff hid his smile behind a cough. She had never noticed her own beauty until Lorgin had shown it to her.

  “Perhaps we can put aside this problem for later, and try to sort out the rest now.” He handed the Shimalee back to her, making sure she clasped it securely around her neck, then led her back to the table.

  “About the Shimalee—you say that Lorgin has the wrong woman. This could be serious, indeed. You know he has taken you to wife under Aviaran and Charl law.”

  Her eyes widened. “I know. It’s terrible! What is he going to do?”

  Yaniff cleared his throat to stop the chuckle bubbling its way up his throat. Lorgin ta’al Krue would think of something, he was sure. “Let us go over, together, the circumstances of how you came to have the Shimalee. There may be some small…fact that was overlooked.”

  Deana leaned intently forward in her chair. “Good idea! Here’s what happened: It was a terrible day; I got fired from my job, sat in pi—something wet, ruined my coat, got stuck in the parking lot due to an accident, went into a junk shop I had never seen before—”