Deviants of Giftborn (The Etherya Series Book 1)

by Amarcya, Zuri

  Essen gestured to the chairs and sat back down.

  “Where did this idea originate?” Essen asked, as they sat.

  “Well, High Priest, it’s an idea I have been playing with for some time but felt that unless I happen upon the right woman it wasn’t worth pursuing. Mss Saraethien is my step-daughter and I believe that she has the dedication and strength needed to fulfill the shoes of lesser men.”

  It hadn’t been his idea. Essen turned to the woman. “You thought of this?”

  She dipped her head into a nod. Telmar threw her an ugly look.

  “Why do you think you have the skills required to be a lord over a magien or a reputable man in the city?” Essen asked.

  “I don’t presume to have any more skill than a magien, High Priest,” she replied. “But I am no one of importance to the Arc. I have no responsibility to any Sect, and will not be required to relinquish anything of real value to take on this duty. Yet I have the background and knowledge of growing up in the Arc and I still hold those values. I’m extremely academic. I’m looked upon in high regard by many citizens of Torak as a woman of stature, commerce and elegance.”

  Essen resisted the urge to get up and walk out. Being a woman of stature and elegance only meant she was considered pleasing on the eye and held good manners. Growing up in the Arc meant nothing. Many non-Gifted who were fortune enough to grow up surrounded by magiens, did not remember most of their upbringing after two years of being moved to Torak.

  “The main issue we have with citizen women,” he began, “is that they lack ambition for reputable work. They are consumed by their progression in Torak social hierarchy. Even when they have been given the opportunity to learn about the wards, they’re not interested. They also don’t have the skills to hold a ward successfully.”

  “But that doesn’t mean there will never be a suitable female citizen,” she pointed out.

  “Agreed. But citizen women also tend to be highly emotional and are not balanced out by the Gift as magien women are. We can deal with greed and even selfish disregard of others, but fierce emotional responses can be dangerous. It is apparent every time a child is taken for training.”

  “Magien women don’t have their children taken from them to grow and live somewhere they will never see them again,” the woman said, “so the comparison is insignificant. Have you found there has been a lack of emotional attachment in the lords who have not fulfilled their duties?”

  Essen, surprised by her direct frankness, did not respond. She was right. He looked closer at her. Her youthfulness did not extend to the hardness in her eyes. It was true many lords had been dismissed because they became too attached to their serfs in one way or another, or became lazy or overcome with guilt about completing their duties. Still, that did not mean citizen women would do any better.

  “Running a ward is not elegant,” he said. “The lord status isn’t something to be shown off like a new dress or a pretty rock. It requires hard work and a sound mind.”

  Her face softened. “I understand that, High Priest. I know the politics involved in Ward Affairs. I know the physical strength needed to travel to and from the land to collect produce and ensure the serfs are well. I know the good judgment and logical mind required to negotiate with other ward owners and ensure the safety of the land. It’s not for the glamor of this status that I want the position.”

  “Why do you want it?”

  The woman hesitated, lowering her eyes. A strange expression entered her face and after a long instant she raised her head. “I believe I deserve it.”

  Telmar shifted in his chair but Essen’s eyes never left the woman’s face.

  “Mss…”

  “Saraethien,” she said.

  “Mss Saraethien,” Essen said. “You expect me to give you the title of lord simply because you believe you deserve it?”

  “Yes.” Her gray eyes held his brown. “I’m an exemplary citizen of Torak. I have studied ruthlessly and gained more knowledge and insight than any other living citizen. I’m particularly well read about farming and crop care and earned an honorary plaque for my studies into land cultivation. It’s only the bias of the Arc that prevents me from excelling to the next step I should be taking.”

  “You should be taking?” Essen repeated, raising his eyebrows.

  “Indeed, High Priest. Have you by chance read some of the latest publications from the Care Sect?”

  Essen shook his head. The Care Sect regularly published findings and discussions about their discoveries with the Gift, technologies and the natural elements. Some of the most mundane ones were sent through to Torak, but not often as most citizens did not understand the Gift or the concept of the technologies in the city and therefore had no interest. Essen had the Care Priest explain to him marked findings or discoveries they made. Her overexcited explanations were a good remedy for sleepless nights.

  “According to the publications, the neglect of citizens by the Arc prevents it from utilizing quality citizens of Torak, particularly female citizens,” she continued. “If I had been born male I would have already been selected for lord status over five years ago. Yet if I had been Giftborn, I would be able to choose any profession I wish, though undoubtedly I would likely be one of the best Puryths you had ever encountered.” She smiled, and her good looks transformed into something of pure beauty.

  Telmar stared at her as though he had never seen her before but Essen’s mood lifted. She had a refreshing boldness that he had not encountered in a long time. Few people had the courage to be direct with him and he could tell by her energy release that she truly believed what she was saying. “What makes you think you would be any good at Care?” he asked.

  “I had already completed level six training and was almost finishing level seven when I had to leave the Arc. I was sixteen.”

  Essen nodded. If he was to believe what she said, she had indeed achieved more than almost all of the current lords. Gaining level six in Care at sixteen was no small feat. The training was designed to instill a thirst for study in the scholar on a micro energy level in order to prepare them for the rigorous training ahead. Since she had not stayed in the Arc she must have felt compelled to study in Torak and now had nothing to do with the knowledge she had gained and nowhere to go with her drive to continue learning. Putting aside her sex, she was probably the best potential candidate he had ever met.

  “So you propose that the Arc is prejudiced against you?” Essen asked.

  Mss Saraethien nodded.

  “Do you have any long term family plans? Are you married?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  She smiled. “Marry and be at the mercy of a less educated man?”

  Essen suppressed a smile and inclined his head. “Don’t you wish to marry?”

  Mss Saraethien shrugged and said dryly, “I haven’t yet found a man I’m willing to be an employee for.”

  “And you recommend her, Telmar?” Essen asked, turning to him.

  Telmar tore his eyes from her. “Yes, High Priest. I think it would serve Torak well to… experiment with the old prejudices. I’m happy to be her mentor. She can only do well.”

  Essen rose to his feet. “I will think on it, Mss Saraethien. I don’t think it would be terrible if you were to marry and support a worthy husband, but I will think on it.”

  Mss Saraethien smiled again and bowed her head. “Thank you for your consideration, High Priest.”

  Telmar looked confused, but bowed his head and said the same.

  Essen paused. “Saraethien… I know that name.”

  “My father was a Thaide,” Mss Saraethien said.

  “Ah yes,” Essen remembered. Her father had been the most promising Thaide in eighty years—more so than Kelvedon. Essen had hoped he would be training to be the next Thaide Priest by now. It was a shame he had to have such a dishonorable end.

  “Were you tested for the Gift?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He accessed
his Gift, felt for her and frowned. Something was not right.

  “Stand up,” he said.

  As she stood, he probed her energy again. It did not feel smooth and yielding, as it should. It felt sharp and rough, almost aggressive. And yet there was no indication that she held the power to control it. Thoughts of her father’s vast Gift ability sprung to mind, but he dismissed them almost as quickly. She would have been tested as a child and the Gift couldn’t manifest past the age of sixteen. Besides no one would be foolish enough to meet him as an illegal Giftborn. This woman probably possessed a deformed energy pattern. But still…

  He pulled on her energy release and created a minute energy ball with detection code embedded. It attached itself to her energy force. If anything strange happened with her energy, he would soon know.

  A Thaide re-entered the room. “High Priest, the Thaide Priest asks you come immediately.”

  “Good day to you, Mss Saraethien, Telmar.”

  They bowed as he followed the Thaide outside.

  Night had enveloped Torak and the crisp air stung his face. Tall skinny lamps crafted with balls of lumni stone provided a glow of feathery light that caused angles to cut across Kelvedon’s stern face as he waited by the lord’s carriage.

  “What is it?” Essen asked.

  “Did any Phalorians travel in the carriage?”

  Essen shook his head. “They used a pattern palm to force the horses to move it away from them. I assume so he would not return, but none of them traveled in it. The Elementyths at the Ryim were also sure no one came out of it, remember?”

  “But what about when it left the Ryim?”

  “You know no one can travel through the gates undetected.”

  The Thaide Priest beckoned him into the carriage. When he climbed up, he observed a mess of sorts. Grains, rice, squashed fruit and vegetables lay scattered all over the floor. Flour had dusted everything with a film of white and mixed with a thick green substance that had made contact with most surfaces.

  Kelvedon pointed to a corner of the carriage at something lying on the floor. When Essen knelt closer, he saw a rotting apple core with clear teeth impressions.

  “Have you searched the rest of the carriage?” Essen asked. He pulled on the sliver of energy within the apple and lifted it into the air.

  “From inside the steeds’ mouths to the bolts keeping the wheels together.”

  The thin apple core no longer held seeds, but there was enough to have it examined. Essen created a case of hardened air around it.

  “We have not yet located the beggar who killed Sono and injured Tarul,” Kelvedon said, evenly. “It’s possible the murderer could have entered the carriage during the confusion of the beggars’ fight and gained access to Torak.”

  Essen plucked the evidence out of the air and stood up. “Or it is remains from a different day. It could have been thrown in here during the days it took Telmar to arrange this meeting. Or the lord could have eaten that apple himself. The gates still would have detected an unauthorized entry.”

  “True. But it’s unlikely that the lord would have chewed through an apple and dismounted to throw it in his own carriage instead of out on the road.”

  Essen handed him the evidence. “Question him. Take whatever steps needed to determine whether this is his waste or not. And check with the Thaide manning the gates—they would have searched the carriage.”

  Kelvedon exited the carriage and Essen climbed out after him in deep thought. Kelvedon was aching to catch the beggar that had killed one of his men. He took the attack personally. No Thaide had been ever been killed by an untrained. The outraged uproar that had erupted in the Arc would take many days to calm. It had renewed old debates and theories about magien purity and Arc training systems. If the killer had entered the city, Kelvedon would take it very seriously indeed.

  ***

  Torak Tower stood in the center of the Arc, a tall, strong, thick cone stretching into the sky, visible from every angle in the city. Made from ancient seastone, its white skin glistened even when the sun did not shine. And at its head the Sovereign’s symbol, a pattern of full and semi circles, was a crown for all to see. Relocating his home to Torak Tower had been one of the pinnacle moments of Essen’s life. The tower had been at the center of the many mysteries and heroic tales during his childhood and he had been honored to be invited to share the building in which the Sovereign resided, the building that united the Realms and brought strength and safety to all magiens and citizens. It had been difficult to leave his loved ones behind. He could still remember the moment the delighted expression on his wife’s face turned to disappointment and the piercing cries of his son as he left. He sighed and rose from his chair. That was many years ago.

  Lumni lamps lit the sparsely furnished room and large square windows gave him a generous view of the black star-filled sky and the tower’s courtyard. Essen had initially preferred his rooms to face the west region of the Arc so he would avoid facing his old home in the east region. Now he enjoyed evenings watching the sun’s rays melt into darkness and held nothing for his former home but memories.

  He reached for his lukewarm steamed pear-wine and drained the remains. He had spent the last few days trying to protect the city from a threat he did not understand. Kelvedon had told him that the lord’s memories confirmed he did not eat the apple and the Thaide at the gates did not search the carriage, costing them their Thaidehood. But if a Phalorian had dropped it while looking through the carriage when on the ward, it was unusual behavior. Phalorians were meticulous, and would not have risked magiens examining their leftovers. Still, it was possible.

  He laid his glass on a short-table by the window. Even though the Sovereign, creator of the Realms, had an uncanny ability to pinpoint complications all over the Realms, Essen did not feet it his duty to report to him until he was aware of as much detail as possible. In this instance he didn’t feel he knew enough, but the situation was much too important to worry about his inadequacies.

  Essen exited his rooms and, standing on the ledge outside the door, accessed his Gift. The vibrancy awakened every fiber of his being and the sensation rushed through every nerve, sending a humming wave over his body. He pulled energy from the ground to create a circular platform in mid-air in front of him and stepped on it. Torak Tower was fashioned to be hollow in the center with a ledge on each level to access the rooms. The only way to reach any other level was by using a platform.

  Essen shot up the middle of the tower on his platform, passing numerous levels on his way. As he gained height, he continued to tug energy from the ground far below and feed it into his platform but it was a struggle. He began to pant from the strain, and by the time he slowed his ascent, sweat poured from his brow and dripped down his back. He stepped from his platform onto the highest level of the tower and almost dropped to his knees from exhaustion. Visiting the Sovereign always tired him, but he was grateful he had the strength to reach the top. Most of the powerful magiens in the Arc would not have reached further than halfway.

  Essen took deep breaths as he walked along the ledge to the Sovereign’s door. He knocked and it sprung open. Beyond the doorway he saw a large white room with cool blue and lilac soft-seats in the center. The air was silky with rose and vanilla scents, and white energy balls bounced against the ceiling emitting light at a frequency similar to the sun at sun-arc, brightening the room. The Sovereign sat at a table on one side of the room, wearing a simple black tunic.

  “Greetings Essen,” he said, gesturing for Essen to sit and join him.

  Essen walked to the Sovereign and bowed. “Greetings, Divine Sovereign.”

  “Rise. Please join me.”

  Essen straightened and eyed the table. It was laden with food. Honeyed and sour breads, spreads of every color, hard stuffed eggs, pastries, fruit, herby meats, a variety of cheeses, smoked fish and juices as well as wine and sweet water. The ocean of aromas clouded his senses, teasing his taste buds.

  “I’m not vis
iting socially, your holiness,” said Essen. “I come with worrying news.”

  “I know,” said the Sovereign, searching his eyes. “But it’s much better to worry over things with a full stomach.”

  Essen hesitated, then sat down on the only other chair at the table.

  “I recommend the basil and lime boar,” said the Sovereign, pouring wine into their goblets. “Or the sesame bread and black cheese.”

  Essen filled his plate with food and began eating. Sneaking a look at the Sovereign, Essen marveled at his appearance. He had not aged since the first time Essen had met him, but that was to be expected. He was not a man, after all, but a being that had created and ruled over all of the Realms. The god that gave life to all. His shoulder-length cinnamon hair, tied back from his square face, was thick and silky. His smooth skin held no wrinkles, and his piercing green eyes seemed as sharp as ever, whereas Essen was aware that he had definitely aged. He had become used to seeing the sag at his jaw line and the ashy strands that dominated his hair.

  After a time, Essen took the last bite of bread, gulped down the spiced wine and leaned back in his chair.

  “So what would you like to discuss, Essen?” asked the Sovereign, wiping his hands on a napkin.

  Essen wiped his mouth and relayed the information about the incident at Rauyo’s ward and the apple core.

  The Sovereign’s face darkened at mention of the Phalorians and the energy balls vibrated hard against the ceiling for a short moment. When Essen had finished explaining, they had calmed.

  “And what have you done since the night of this discovery?”

  “I instructed Kelvedon to conduct a discreet search of the city and increase the security around the Arc and any buildings of interest,” Essen said. “I have asked the Thaide to gather any information that might indicate what move he may make next.”