From a Far Land

by G David Walker

  He scanned their faces. A mixture of emotions warred on their features.

  “A day we had hoped would not come now appears to be on the horizon,” he said. “I must confess, never in my life have I hoped to be wrong until now. But I would rather be wrong by preparing for something that does not happen, than to be wrong by failing to prepare for something that does.”

  *****

  Jason was dreaming he was back in the High One’s chambers. He turned to see the shimmering being.

  “High One, I would speak with this one.”

  Once again, Jason found himself inside the sphere, staring into the creature’s starry eyes. This time, however, the being spoke. Its voice seemed to echo inside his head.

  “Don’t be afraid, Jason,” it said. “My name is Nyala, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

  He released the breath that, until that moment, he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

  “Okay,” he said. “Uh, no offense, but what are you?”

  “The question is...what are you?”

  “What do you mean? I’m just a seventeen-year-old kid. Wait a second.” He thought for a moment, mentally counting on his fingers. “Make that eighteen. I just had a birthday.”

  The creature shook its head. “Oh no, Jason, you are much more than that.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes,” Nyala nodded. “You are Jaben. You are the hope of this world.”

  “Oh,” he said, looking down. Nyala’s shining eyes and sparkling skin were a bit unnerving. “You mean that prophecy the High One was talking about. Are you sure about that? I mean, c’mon, I just turned eighteen.” And I didn’t even get to celebrate it, he thought. “How can I be the hope of your world?”

  “That is what you must discover. That is why we are here.”

  “You’re gonna tell me?”

  “I will tell you what you need to know. I will teach you as much as I can, so that you will be able to do what you must. But, in the end, you will have to make a choice.”

  “A choice? What choice?”

  “Patience, Jason. All of your questions will be answered, but you will not remember the answers until the proper time.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because your choice must be made freely, and a choice based only upon what someone else has told you is not truly free. There are things you must learn and experience on your own. People you must meet and judge for yourself. Paths you must follow based solely upon your own truths, without any interference from the knowledge I will give you.”

  “So how will I know when this choice has to be made? Will I just suddenly remember everything?”

  “You will remember parts of what transpires here as the time is right. When the time comes for you to decide, you will have the knowledge you need to choose.”

  “To choose what?”

  “To choose what will become of our world.”

  “What? Hold on. Wait a minute.” He shook his head as the full impact of the words struck home. “I…I…no. No! I can’t decide the fate of your world. I’m eighteen, for crying out loud. Half the time I can’t even decide what to watch on TV. The fate of a world? Forget it!”

  “I am sorry this has fallen on you, Jason, but you cannot avoid your destiny. You must make this choice.”

  “Sure, that’s easy for you to say,” he shot back, forgetting his fear. He waved his hand at her. “You’re some kind of…of super being or something. You probably decide the fates of worlds before breakfast. But I’m just a regular human being. We don’t usually make those kinds of decisions, before or after breakfast.”

  “I understand how you feel.”

  “Yeah, right. How could you?”

  As he watched, the sparkles surrounding her faded, until he was looking at a woman about his mother’s age, with russet-colored hair and dark brown eyes. She gave him a slight smile. “Because we’re not as different as you think.”

  “Wake up.”

  He looked around, trying to locate the source of the new voice.

  “Wake up!” the voice repeated.

  His eyes popped open. His ancestor stood over him.

  “Jason, it’s time to get up, lad.”

  “Wha..?” He rubbed his eyes. It had been a dream? Or had it been the first memories coming out, like she’d said would happen? He took a deep breath, trying to clear the fog from his head. If it had been a memory, then he could expect this sort of thing to happen again. I’ll just have to wait and see. Then another thought occurred to him. The Altered were human? He didn’t know if that was significant or not, but it was an interesting piece of information.

  “I’ve got Firstmeal prepared, lad, as soon as you’re ready,” Bothan said, interrupting his contemplation.

  “Okay, I’ll be out in just a second.”

  Bothan nodded and left the room.

  He laid there thinking about the things he and his ancestor had discussed the night before. Bothan had told him that he was stronger than any Loremaster on the Circle. Jason asked why Bothan didn’t simply take over and set things right, if the Circle was as corrupt he had said.

  “Well, lad,” Bothan had answered, “while I’m sure I could handle any one of them alone, perhaps even two or three together, I canna stand against the combined power of the entire Circle. Besides,” he added, spreading his hands, “I’m not wanting to pick a fight with them. No one wins something like that. I tried to reason with them, but they would have none of it. The only reason I left was because I had come to fear for my own safety.”

  And now Jason was about to go back to the place his ancestor had left out of fear for his life. He didn’t know if it was the best idea he’d ever had, but he wasn’t about to leave his dad there if what Bothan said was true.

  When he came out of his room, Bothan was already seated at the table, a plate piled high in front of him. He looked up as Jason walked in.

  “After we eat, I’ll send you back to Lore’s Haven and your father,” he said. He started to turn back to his meal, and then stopped. “That is, if you’re still wanting to go.”

  “Yeah. If nothing else, I have to make sure Dad’s okay.”

  “Aye, all right then,” Bothan said. “Well, let’s eat, and then I’ll send you back. I still dinna like the thought of you bein’ back in the hands of the Circle, but I’ll respect your wishes. You still have the summoning stone?”

  He pulled the amulet out of his shirt. “Right here.”

  “Good. Keep it close and keep it out of sight. I hope you’ll not be needing it, but I’m thinking you’ll soon be glad you have it.”

  “Why do I need to keep it out of sight?”

  “If any of the Loremasters see it, they’ll know it for what it is, and like as not they’ll know who gave it to you. You won’t be keeping it long if any of them see it, so keep it tucked away.”

  He dropped the stone back inside his shirt.

  Bothan nodded. “Good. Now let’s eat. I’ll not be sending you back with an empty belly,” he said with a grin and a wink.

  *****

  Bothan watched the portal blink out of existence, taking Jason back to Lore’s Haven.

  “Do you think it wise to send him back to the Circle?” a sibilant voice said from behind him. “His power, untapped though it may be, is greater even than yours.”

  Bothan turned to look at the shadowy figure that had appeared after Jason’s departure.

  “He has power, ‘tis true,” he said, “but he doesn’t know how to use it. Besides, he’ll be back soon enough. And when he returns, he’ll be more than willing to take up our cause against the Circle.”

  “You have a plan, then.”

  “Oh, aye,” Bothan grinned. “I do indeed.”

  Homecoming

  Gatlor scowled and slapped the blade in front of him aside with his sword.

  “If you swing your blade like that in battle I will gut you myself,” he snapped at the recruit.

  The training yard echoed with the ring of
steel as the group of men and women practiced. Following the orders of the Circle, he was conducting training drills for the new recruits. The word had gone out from the Haven at first light that volunteers were needed. Men and women began arriving within hours.

  He grabbed the man’s wrist and straightened it, clamping his other hand on the trainee’s forearm. “Control the sword. Do not let the sword control you.”

  He turned away and shouted above the din in the yard. “Everyone stop!” Almost at once, the bladesong faded as the fighters lowered their swords and turned to face him. As he waited for silence, Gatlor noticed one of the Warders enter the training yard, apparently looking for him.

  Once he was certain he had their attention, he said loudly, “You must never think of your sword as something you are simply holding in your hand.” He began weaving his sword in an intricate pattern as he spoke, the sunlight dancing along the length of the blade. “It must become part of you, an extension of yourself and of your will. Just as you use your muscles to control your arm, so must you also use those same muscles to control your blade.” With a final sweep, he sheathed his sword.

  One by one, he met each gaze. “Listen to me very carefully, for I will only say this once. The first time you allow your blade to control you in battle…” He gave them a hard look. “You will die. Remember that. Now back to work.”

  As the group resumed their training, he walked over to the Warder.

  “You have something?” he said.

  “Sir,” the man said with a salute, “we have found the Far Planer.”

  “Jason Bennett?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where?”

  “He was on the road approaching Lore’s Haven.”

  “What condition is he in?”

  “He appears whole and unharmed.”

  “Indeed. And where is he now?”

  “He is waiting just outside Lore’s Haven with the gate Warders.”

  The muscles in Gatlor’s jaw clenched as he glowered at the ground in front of him. “Go get two of your best men, and return here. Then we will take the Far Planer to the Circle chambers.”

  “Two men, sir? Do you believe he will resist?”

  “No, I do not believe he will resist. You and the other two will be there to make sure I do not do anything unwise before we get him to the Circle.”

  The man raised an eyebrow, and then nodded. “I know just the men. I will get them at once.” With a salute he turned and strode away.

  While he waited, Gatlor thought about Jason Bennett. The young Far Planer was a bit of a mystery, and he did not like mysteries. Mysteries meant uncertainty, and, as a warrior, he had no room for uncertainties in his life.

  He made it a personal rule not to trust Far Planers. His original impression of Jason Bennett had been that the youth was cocky and ignorant, a dangerous combination. Had he and his squad not been under the direct orders of the High One, he would have graciously suggested that Loremaster Reyga find another escort for their journey.

  The incident with the Trellin had forced him to re-evaluate his position. While he had yet to decide whether the boy’s actions were born of courage or foolish ignorance, he could not deny that, had Jason Bennett not acted when he did, Lenai would have been killed. Not that he and Lenai were close friends, but they had developed a professional relationship based upon mutual respect, something he did not give freely. He had no doubts about the Shanthi’s honor, and considered her a valuable member of his squad. For that reason alone, he felt uncomfortably indebted to the Far Planer.

  But then he disappeared, leaving behind an unconscious Lenai, who had later been found to be a lethal trap. Gatlor had grown up with Tor’s older brother, and knew Tor and Elira well. Elira’s sudden death hit him hard, and devastated Tor. He intended to see that whoever was responsible paid for their actions, and at the moment, all clues pointed to Jason Bennett. His teeth ground together at the thought that he could have been deceived.

  And then there were the four villages that had been destroyed after the boy vanished. He did not believe in coincidence. What the Far Planer’s part was in all of this was yet to be determined, but he was going to find out.

  He looked up as the Warder entered the training yard accompanied by two other men. He shook his head as they reached him. “These are the two you had in mind?”

  The Warder shrugged. “They seemed to be the best choice, sir.”

  Seerka gave him a wink. “Who better to keep you from doing something unwise?” he said with a feline smirk.

  “Indeed,” added Calador.

  Gatlor rolled his eyes and began walking toward the opposite entrance, the three others falling in behind.

  *****

  Jason stared out his window. The portal that brought him back to Lore’s Haven had placed him about two hundred yards from the front gate, giving him his first view of the keep from the outside.

  It rose from the earth like an extension of bedrock. The walls were made from massive blocks of white stone marbled with gray. The road led to an iron portcullis twenty feet high and equally as wide, flanked by two large gate towers with a walkway running between them. At each tower, and spaced along the parapets, were flags of iridescent material with a white starburst in the center, outlined in royal blue. As the flags waved in the breeze, the sunlight reflected from them in all the colors of the spectrum. He could see Warders stationed at the towers and at intervals along the wall walk.

  Before he was within a hundred yards of the keep, shouts rang out from inside. Four armed Warders came out and stopped him just outside the gate. About twenty minutes later, Gatlor, Seerka, Calador, and another Warder appeared and escorted him inside. As they walked through the corridors, he couldn’t help but feel the tension in the air.

  The first time he’d walked through the halls of the keep, everyone he’d met seemed relaxed and welcoming. Now, the smiles and greetings, while still given, were subdued. Gatlor seemed even more on edge than before, if such a thing were possible. He didn’t know what had changed, but the conversation with Bothan ran through his mind again and again. For his part, Gatlor had remained silent, telling him that the Circle would answer any questions he might have. Seerka, Calador, and the other Warder had not offered any information either.

  Then he was in front of the Circle…

  ~~~

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  Confronting him was a rather short, stocky Loremaster with a staff made from woven strands of metal. The stone at the top of the staff was dark, with pearlescent streaks of color running through it. The Loremasters had all been civil enough, until this man stood up.

  The man snorted. “So you would have us believe that your disappearance, and the subsequent destruction of four of our villages, is nothing more than a coincidence?”

  “It’s the truth!” Although shocked to hear about the villages, those feelings were quickly overwhelmed by his feelings of dislike toward this man. It was obvious that the feeling was mutual. “I don’t know anything about any villages or anything else,” he said. “All I remember is walking through the corridor with Lenai, and then waking up in the woods.”

  Bothan had suggested that he not mention his stay with his ancestor to the Circle, and until he knew more about what was going on, he thought that was probably a good idea.

  “Well that's convenient,” the man said. “You disappear, our villages are attacked, and you tell us you took a nap for a couple of days. I trust you are well rested?”

  Reyga stood. “Chon! He said he knows nothing about it, and I, for one, believe him.”

  “Oh, I am certain of that, Reyga,” Chon said. “And I have no doubt you would also believe it if—”

  “Enough.” The High One stood. “Both of you sit down,” he ordered. Reyga and the Loremaster named Chon slowly settled back into their seats.

  ~~~

  The rest of the meeting had gone downhill from there, until the High One declared an
end and asked Jason to return to his quarters and remain there. He understood that it wasn’t a request, and reluctantly agreed. Two Warders had accompanied him back to his room.

  An insistent knocking on his door interrupted his reverie. What now? He opened the door and saw his father standing outside.

  “Dad!” His reasons for returning flooded back.

  “Jason,” his father said. “Are you alright? These Warders weren’t going to let me see you until I explained a few things to them about fathers and sons.”

  Jason couldn’t quite suppress a grin. He knew how well his father was at explaining things to people.

  “I’m okay, Dad,” he said, as the elder Bennett wrapped his arms around him.

  After his father let go, Jason closed the door, shutting the Warders outside.

  “Dad, you’re not going to believe what happened.”

  His dad frowned. “I thought you told the Circle that you didn’t know what had happened,” he said. “At least that’s what Reyga said when he told me you had returned.”

  “I couldn’t tell them, Dad, but I was with Bothan McFarland.”

  “Bothan McFarland? Our Bothan McFarland?”

  “Yeah. The one who was supposed to have fallen in the well.”

  “So he did come here,” his father whispered. “Amazing. But why couldn’t you tell the Circle?”

  “There’s something going on between Bothan and the Circle. I’m not exactly sure what, but according to Bothan, the Circle is trying to control all knowledge, and keep all of the power to themselves and whoever they think should have it.”

  “I find that hard to believe. I’ve been here thirty years and I’ve never heard anything like that even hinted at.”

  “I know, but I guess Bothan used to live here at Lore’s Haven too, and was even friends with the Loremasters. Now he says the Loremasters want to kill him.”