by Pedro Urvi
The answer was not long in coming, and completely surprised Komir. The last time he had had to endure a long torture, whereas this time the sky-blue shining on his chest appeared as soon as he felt the first pang of pain. He saw in his mind the arcane energy accumulated in his chest, at rest, forming a lake of quiet blue water. A flash indicated that it was active, as if someone had thrown a pebble on the quiet lake and disturbed it. He moved his hand away from the flame, he did not need the suffering any more. He left the candle on the table and closed his eyes, concentrating on the lake of energy within him. He put his hand on the medallion and wished to work magic, to cast a spell. But he really did not know how to do it, he had not thought of it beforehand, thrilled as he was by all the possibilities. Once again he was acting on instinct instead of thinking things out at leisure, as was his bad habit. Before he could decide one way or another arcane symbols, golden runes, began to dance in his mind. It was a dance that was working towards the shaping of words of power. The Ilenian medallion of Ether was activated and it was casting a spell, a magic which he was not controlling or guiding at all.
He could only wait and see what would happen. Perhaps he was creating light, or fire, or perhaps even some other greater wonder. How thrilling!
A mist began to surround him, enveloping him completely, making everything around him vanish, even Hartz who was watching without missing the slightest detail, blinking rapidly so that his big eyes would not miss a thing, tense as a bowstring. Komir was already familiar with this strange mist, he recognized it immediately and felt at ease.
As on those previous occasions the mist enveloped him completely as if to abstract him from that particular reality, making the context and the situation disappear. Very probably even time had stopped, although he could not be sure. It was as though he were on another plane of reality.
Before him a figure began to take shape, translucent at first, then gradually gathering form and color. Komir waited expectantly. A woman appeared before him, a woman with a medallion like his own.
As he made out the medallion even before the woman was clearly defined, an idea took shape in his mind. This was the unifying link! This was what he and the two women the mist had shown him had in common: an Ilenian medallion. Both he and the two women he had seen in the mist wore it around their neck. How come he had not thought of this before? This was deeply significant, and anybody sharp-witted would have realized the importance of that singular fact. Kayti would have thought of it immediately. Lately events had begun to overwhelm him, he was not even thinking clearly. He was annoyed, almost ashamed that he had not realized before.
The three of us wear an Ilenian medallion, that’s why we can see each other. Mine calls on theirs, searches for them to form a link with them for some reason I don’t know yet but that I plan on finding out.
He shook his head, trying to clear away the negative thoughts and focus on the positive ones. He had just activated his inner energy with little pain, which was no small feat in itself. His right hand would take longer than a month to recover from the wounds of those first attempts. He felt the medallion drawing on his energy and it did not bother him; far from it, he felt pleased. He was the one who was initiating the process now, the medallion, although he was still far from mastering or controlling it, at least required his energy to cast spells. He still did not know how, but it seemed very likely that if he stopped the flow of energy to the medallion it would be unable to conjure anything. This gave him a brief, misleading sense of control.
He remained looking at the shadow, which was beginning to take the form of a female silhouette in front of him. Who would appear? The golden beauty with curly hair and eyes like the ocean? Or the wild girl with red skin and long jet-black tresses? A pleasant sense of apprehension ran through his stomach.
Hundreds of leagues away, Aliana stopped and leaned against one of the enormous trees. She looked towards young Asti, the Usik she was fleeing with through that immense forest of giant trees. The girl returned her gaze, disconcerted.
“Something happen? You well?” the Usik asked.
“Call Kendas, quickly!” the Healer urged.
A moment later the Royal Lancer, still camouflaged as a Usik, came to her.
“What’s the matter? Do you feel ill?” he asked when he saw her leaning against the tree.
“You don’t see the mist around me, Kendas, do you?”
The Lancer looked all around without seeing any mist or haze. It was broad day in the Usik forest, and it was not possible that there could be any mist at that time of year, not in that environment.
“No Aliana, I don’t see any mist…” he said, alarmed.
“That’s natural. It’s a magical kind. I have no time to explain, but I’m going to be out of it for a while. Nothing’s going to happen to me, but it’s very likely that I’ll fall into some kind of trance that I won’t be able to come out of. If the Usik arrive, you’ll have to carry me. I won’t be able to wake up.”
“Not a very good time for something like that… they’re very close…”
“I know, Kendas, and I’m very sorry, it’s not me that chooses when it happens. Let’s just say I’ve been summoned by a great arcane power and I can’t resist it. It takes me with it. I don’t know how long I’ll be in the trance, but I’ll try to make it as brief as possible.”
“All right, don’t worry, I’ll protect you. And if the situation gets complicated I’ll carry you, rest assured.”
“I know it’s just what we don’t need right now, with all the trouble we already have. Kendas, I’m sorry.”
And with those words still on her lips, Aliana was absorbed by the mist before the shocked eyes of both Kendas and Asti.
The medallion around Komir’s neck was beginning to emit the whitish flashes he knew already. He was aware that the medallion was showing him the young woman, consuming part of his inner energy. The girl who had just materialized before him was the one he had already seen that first time. A serene young woman of great beauty, who wore a similar medallion round her neck. But it was brown flashes that hers emitted, as if it were made of earth.
Komir greeted her with a wave of his hand as an unintended surge of happiness and apprehension stirred in the pit of his stomach at her presence. Aware that he could not communicate with her in words he smiled, trying to project calm, since he did not wish to startle her and he did not want her to go. Most probably this woman was somewhere far, far away. But for all that, Komir wanted to reach her, to talk to her and get to know her. He yearned for it.
The girl greeted him and smiled in return. It was an honest smile but not a whole-hearted one. She was worried about something.
Her face showed exhaustion and worry. Komir would have given anything to be able to communicate with this breathtaking being, but he could think of nothing. He tried to talk, but as on those other occasions nothing came out of his mouth.
While he was wondering what he could do to make contact with her, his medallion began to flash anew, more rapidly and steadily. A new translucent shape began to form between Komir and the woman. Someone else was beginning to materialize beside them, summoned by Komir’s medallion. This had not happened before. Komir gave all his attention to what was taking place before his eyes, deeply intrigued…
At the foot of the Fountain of Life on the faraway Masig steppes, Ilua Hidden Path, the Healer of the Blue Clouds, was looking at her pupil apprehensively; something was happening to her, and it did not look like anything good. Leaving the heavy granite mortar on the ground where she was crushing medicinal seeds, she went over to Iruki Wind of the Steppes and put her hand on the girl’s forehead. Her temperature seemed normal, there was no fever. But her face had lost all color, she looked as if she had seen a ghost, a bad spirit, and she had spilt the potion she had prepared with so much care.
“What’s wrong, my girl?” the Medicine Woman asked in concern.
“It’s… it’s…happening again…” Iruki said without looking at h
er, her eyes fixed on the far end of the conical cloth and leather tent which was the old Healer’s home.
“I don’t understand, little one. What’s happening again?”
“The evil spirit, he’s visiting me again…”
“Are you having a vision, my girl?”
“Yes, Healer, the spirit with the emerald eyes, he’s back…”
“I’m going to get Oni Black Cloud the Shaman, he’ll know what to do, he knows how to communicate with the spirit world.”
“Hurry, please. I can already see him, and this time he’s not alone. There’s another spirit with him, a woman…”
“Hold on, little one, fight, don’t let the spirits of evil drag you to their mystical, evil world,” said the old woman as she blessed Iruki with her good luck charm. She murmured a prayer to the good spirits so that they would protect the girl.
“He’s coming for my soul, he wants to take it away from me, I’m sure!”
“Don’t let him, resist. I’ll be back with Oni Black Cloud in a moment. Hold fast!” Ilua Hidden Path left her tent and hurried in search of the Shaman of the tribe with her heart in her mouth.
Komir’s eyes lingered on the red-skinned savage, with her long jet-black hair falling loose around her shoulders, as she looked at him with eyes full of hate. It was the same woman the medallion had summoned the time before. That look of hatred worried Komir. How could he make her understand that he did not wish her harm? Komir showed her his open hands in a sign of peace, but she crouched in fear.
Perhaps if he could make her understand that it was really the medallion which was calling her and not him. He took the jewel round his neck with one hand and showed it to both women. Pointing at the medallion with his other hand, he tried to make them see that this arcane object was the one responsible for their meeting. The girl with golden hair seemed to understand and showed him her own medallion, pointing at it with her finger. But the red-skinned girl remained crouching, looking at both with fear and distrust.
Trying to make her understand that he meant her no harm at all, Komir smiled. To emphasize his peaceful intentions, he sat on the floor with his legs crossed, keeping the medallion in view in his right hand. He looked at the blonde girl and she did the same, sitting on the floor in the same position and holding up her own medallion. They remained like this for a long while, until the red girl seemed to relax somewhat. Finally she imitated them and sat down in the same way, showing her medallion, although her expression still showed fear and distrust.
Komir looked at the curious triangle they formed, each holding up his or her mysterious medallion. And now what? he wondered. Almost as if in answer to the question, the jewel round his neck began to emit the familiar white, almost transparent, flashes. Immediately the pale girl’s jewel began to emit brown flashes, the color of earth, while the red-skinned girl’s medallion began to emit flashes the color of the sea. The three watched the show of flashes and sparkles as if hypnotized. It looked as though the three medallions were having an animated conversation, as if this were a friendly gathering. Komir had no idea what was going on, but he was beginning to have the impression that this was precisely what the medallion wanted: to communicate with the other two, to find its lost brothers.
Suddenly two beams of light shot out of his medallion towards the two girls. At the same time the women’s medallions burst into beams of light which reached out to the other two. Each beam met the one issuing from the other medallion and fused together, and the three united in a triangle of light which gradually turned golden.
Komir made an effort to understand what he was experiencing. He felt a change in his inner energy. Another arcane energy, more powerful, more profoundly ancient, was issuing from the medallion itself and mixing with his own to create a unifying link. The Ilenian medallion was drawing on his power to create the golden beam of light which joined them. That must mean that these two women have inner energy as well, the Gift, just like me. Otherwise the medallions wouldn’t react. The fact seemed to him supremely important, a discovery that had to be taken fully into account. If these two women had already caught Komir’s attention, particularly the one with golden hair, they now fascinated him much more.
The golden triangle formed by the three young people began to shine more strongly, drawing the medallions, physically pulling at their chests. Komir felt the pull and saw the fear in the eyes of the red-skinned girl, who had her hands firmly placed on the ground behind her and was trying not to be dragged by the strength of the link. He looked to his right, where the girl who intrigued him most was also resisting the pull, but there was no fear in her blue eyes. As he witnessed what was happening Komir had no doubt: the three of them were forming a bond, an unbreakable bond, as if after a very long time they were meeting again and sealing their reunion.
Three blindingly intense golden flashes emphasized the link with a flourish.
The three medallions and their bearers were joined unalterably, for good or ill.
The three looked at each other for an instant, unsure. But now there was no fear in the eyes of the red-skinned brunette, and the blond girl was smiling.
Komir smiled too and bowed his head to the women, who bowed their heads in return.
All of a sudden the outlines of the two women began to vanish, and Komir was horrified to realize that they were leaving. He wanted to stop them, wanted them to stay and talk. He had to find out who they were and why they too had Ilenian medallions like his own. He had so many things to ask them! He needed so many answers!
A very familiar voice boomed out behind him.
“That’s enough! You’ve been at your damned magic far too long. I know what you need!”
Komir felt a sharp pain in his head, then darkness enveloped him.
The Message
Mirkos the Erudite, escorted by the six Royal Swords which formed his personal guard, walked into the Audience Hall of the Duke’s Castle in Silanda. He was tired after the long journey. It had taken more than three weeks from Rilentor, the capital of the kingdom, to Silanda, the beautiful, fortified border city of the South, last Rogdonian stronghold against the Nocean Empire. At his age these long trips were simply undeserved punishment for his battered body, something that saddened him deeply. Long ago traveling had been his favorite pastime. How many wonderful experiences he had enjoyed during those countless journeys and adventures of his happy youth!
As he passed a great window and caught a glimpse of the city, he thought the singular beauty of its architecture never ceased to amaze him. Influences from three rich and different cultures were clearly noticeable. The city mingled the curved and oval structures of the Nocean style with the square arches and rectangular forms of the sober Rogdonian tendencies. All of it was topped and decorated with symbols from Andú mythology. This was the local race of the region and the largest population group in Silanda. The strange mixture was striking, and lent the city an unusual beauty. Under the radiant noonday sun, Silanda shone with an almost heavenly aura which Mirkos could only admire in delight.
Leaning on his beloved staff of red Iridian oak, trimmed with gold and topped with a great translucent pearl, the old Mage walked towards the three men who were waiting for him in full dress armor. Mirkos recognized them at once, even though it had been some time since he had last seen them, on a much happier circumstance than this.
Duke Galen, Regent of the province and lord of the city, greeted him effusively. A man of great stature and physical strength, he was known to be a good Regent and military strategist. He could not have been more than fifty, one of the most respected men of the Kingdom and a close friend of His Majesty King Solin. He looked both tough and powerful, and this helped to emphasize his innate qualities of leadership.
“Mirkos, welcome to Silanda!” the Duke said. “I see time doesn’t affect you, my old friend. You look just the same as you did when we last met!”
“Thank you, I see the members of the nobility still lie as badly as ever,” the Mage repli
ed with a friendly smile.
“Far from it, my dear Mage,” the Duke said with a laugh. “Are you losing your wits? I’ve always lied just as badly.”
On the Duke’s right was his younger brother Dolbar. He smiled and greeted the Mage with a small bow as a sign of respect. Smaller in size and strength than his older brother, he was known throughout the South for his lively intelligence. He was in charge of administering the region, managing business and the prosperous commercial routes of the enormous county with great shrewdness, all of which had helped the region to grow richer in the last few years. His long curly brown hair, together with his delicate features and large blue eyes, gave him the appearance of a handsome gentleman. His ability to elude marriage at the King’s court, in spite of the considerable interest which came his way, was also notorious. The marriageable ladies of the Court paid him constant attention, trying to catch him, but Dolbar —very politely— eluded them.
Mirkos liked the young man. He was intelligent as well as kind, courteous and educated and what was even better: kind-hearted. These were qualities not usually found together in one person, much less among the nobility. Mirkos returned the greeting with a nod and a sincere smile of appreciation.
“Welcome, Mirkos,” Dolbar said with a courteous gesture. “The city is in need of your presence.”
“It’s always a pleasure to come back to this magnificent city and enjoy your hospitality,” the Mage replied.
“I wish they were better times and that your reasons for being here were far more pleasant than the ones which concerns us,” the youngest of the two brothers said with a touch of sadness.
“You’re so right, my young friend… indeed, how I wish the circumstances were better. It’s not the best of times for a visit, and nor have I come to further my studies as I would wish to.”
