Thoughts of home made her jittery. She quieted her mind by writing a letter to her family. An hour later she was escorted to the magik Training School, where a class was in session. Two dozen apprentices were gathered around multiple stations equipped with various objects including leaves, jars filled with magik stones, liquids, and wands of all shapes and sizes.
magik Elder Adiglia gestured to Anaya and Miranda. They joined her as she strolled around the room, observing tutors who were helping students perfect their methods. There were many crucial steps for each spell. One wrong ingredient or intonation and the desired result could not be obtained.
Adiglia addressed Miranda and Anaya as they walked around the classroom. “Both of you have learned basic magik spells along with your peers as part of your Academy training. However, the Sultana must be accomplished in advanced magik, and so I have been instructed to enlighten you in the more subtle magik arts.” She walked behind a station and held up two wands.
“The wands which I hold in my hands are more powerful than the ones you’re used to and are reserved only for advanced apprentices who will eventually become initiated Magicians. However, neither of you will be able to keep a wand of this kind until you become Sultana. They must be left here at the school. Is that clear?”
They nodded.
magik Elder continued. “Are you both heavy with the understanding that the magik is sacred and must be used strictly for the ultimate good?”
“What if your idea of ‘good’ is different from mine?” Anaya asked.
“Then you will not succeed even if you become Sultana. “The High High Council will eventually take you out and replace you with one who does share the same definition of ‘good’.”
“But my mother says….”
“Silence!” commanded magik Elder. “Your mother is not competing for the throne. You are.”
Adiglia led the girls to a small magik practice room and closed the door, gesturing for them to take their places. She went to one side, sat in a seated cross legged position and floated above the floor,. Her eyes closed and her hands rested on her knees, palms facing up. Bowing her head, she spoke, “Let us begin.”
magik was difficult. Intense focus was required in order to align with the frequencies of transformation, which were subtler than the normal frequency of being. As the students grew more adept, alignment happened more consistently. When enough time had passed, magik Elder continued. “Manifest a vessel.”
The Young Warriors intoned spells and waved their wands. Miranda created a wide glass bowl; transparent blue with white streaks. Anaya produced a bronze urn with a top that fanned out to a thin rim.
Magik Elder continued. “Now ... pour fertile soil into your vessel.
Soil streamed forth from nowhere, descending from thin air cleanly into the pots.
“Miranda, plant the seed of an iris. Anaya – a lily.”
The seeds fell into the soil.
“Now, grow your flowers.”
Anaya began chanting and soon produced a lily, stunning and aromatic.
Miranda was nervous. Her mind was clouded, her hands shaking. She tried to produce an iris, but she couldn’t invoke the spell properly. The words jumbled out like marbles. Anaya snickered. Miranda’s iris finally sprouted upward and bloomed, but was anemic and pale.
“Once you know the spell, confidence is the key. Without it, you can never perfect the art of magik!” proclaimed Adiglia.
Back in her quarters, Miranda wondered again if she could defend her right to the throne. Anaya is so sure, so quick and so good at everything. I don’t know if I can beat her – oh, the humiliation of it.
She tossed under the satin sheets, unable to find sleep. The glow of the moons pierced through a sliver in the curtains and lit her face, knotted by worry. She dreamed of victory, then defeat, followed by visions of cottages on fire, smoke streaming out while children screamed.
Miranda’s Warrior Training
Miranda entered the Warrior Training Field, and was humbled as the master and her skilled apprentice leapt around each other in complicated formations. Silver and pink shards of light flashed through the air like flashing glints until the sound of a gong permeated the room.
Madeeka and Anaya stilled their swords and bowed to one another. Keeping her eyes closed and body completely still, Madeeka spoke.
“Anaya, you may go.” She motioned Miranda to a spot in the corner. “Sit there.”
Anaya passed Miranda in silence as she left.
Madeeka sat across from Miranda, taking a long drink from a goblet filled with a special substance made by Heggor that allowed the warriors to mind travel. “Choose your weapons,” she instructed.
Miranda studied the weapons hanging on the wall. Out of all the races, the warriors of Zarada were the most skilled fighters. And since their men were the greatest weapon makers, the Young Warriors had access to the best warring implements. Luckily, the Zaradians were also the most peaceful society and fought only when necessary. In the past, they had been known to defend weaker neighbors who didn’t have the means to fight intruders and win battles. Because of this, Zaradian warriors were respected, feared and revered.
Miranda chose a long slender sword, two daggers, and a shield. She had never sparred with Madeeka before, and was terrified to do so now. Obviously, Anaya had no trouble keeping up with the great Warrior Elder, but Miranda had never put much effort into her fighting. Lack of confidence gnawed at her.
“Drink,” commanded Madeeka.
“Why haven’t we done this before, at the Academy?” Miranda asked, taking a long sip from her goblet.
Madeeka was preparing her weapons. “This is something you would have done in your sixteenth year. The Sultana has decreed that you and Anaya will accelerate your progress in order to fulfill the challenge.”
Miranda slid the daggers into her belt. She held the sword with her right hand and the shield with her left. Madeeka faced her, and both took fighting stances.
Altered by the contents of the goblet, they closed their eyes and found themselves transported to another world. They awoke in a field of tall, dry grasses, surrounded by misty layers of fog.
The air was tinged with a reddish hue and smelled of wet leaves. Under their feet, the ground was damp but packed solid. Miranda thought it felt like rock beneath the blanket of rust colored leaves.
Above them, the sky was swathed in varying shades of grey, and threatening to storm. In the distance, jagged mountains protruded skyward from this dreary landscape, the tallest peaks disappearing into the clouds in search of the suns.
Miranda watched Madeeka intently and braced herself for an attack.
Madeeka jumped high, flipped over Miranda and landed behind her. The Young Warrior instantly reached back and used Madeeka’s shoulders to flip over. Madeeka was pleased, and upped the ante by slicing her left arm around to strike, but Miranda was ready.
She caught Madeeka’s arm in midair and twisted it backwards. Madeeka used her strength to pull Miranda towards herself and leveraged her significant body weight to bring Miranda down to the ground. Miranda kicked, but it was too late. Madeeka had her pinned. Basic fighting rule: Never let an opponent maneuver you to the ground.
She was going to cry out, but suddenly she was alone; her teacher had disappeared. Miranda used stealth; moving slowly, looking behind, and all around her, waiting ... and then it came – Madeeka pounced and was suddenly on top of her. Miranda wriggled away and climbed up a tree. Madeeka paused, then made an attempt at climbing the tree herself. When she had almost reached her opponent, Miranda jumped down and ran.
Madeeka dropped from her perch and caught up with Miranda, gradually backing her into a corner between two tall rocks that butted up against each other. She pressed the blade of her sword against Miranda's neck with one hand and held Miranda’s wrist just so with the other, causing Miranda’s sword to drop. The Young Warrior didn’t have the strength to push Madeeka away with her other hand, though she tried.
She was stuck. Madeeka released her and stood in ready position. “We try again.”
Miranda was discouraged, but steadied her fear. Madeeka disappeared again while Miranda rolled into the bushes, staying hidden. She didn’t even see it coming.
Madeeka swooped down, grabbed Miranda, and lifted her into the air. Miranda kicked Madeeka in the face, and Madeeka released her grip. As she always did, Miranda grew weary of fighting. She started to laugh at the folly of it. She ran away from her tutor, giggling all the way.
Madeeka was not pleased. “Miranda! This is not a joke!”
Miranda leapt over fallen trees, Madeeka following close behind.
“Try to get me!” sang Miranda playfully.
Madeeka had had enough. She surged forward and put Miranda in an arm lock at the edge of a cliff. Madeeka held Miranda, suspending her over the edge. If she let go, Miranda would drop. They were both panting hard; Madeeka was furious at the sound of Miranda’s laughter – a blatant disrespect of their purpose.
“Shall I let you go?”
Miranda became serious. “Where would I end up?”
“Where would you like to end up?”
Miranda looked away, pausing. “I would like to go to a place where I can be free of this burden.”
Madeeka pulled her away from the edge and let her go free. “If I could, I would put the fierceness in you, because that’s what it’s going to take to win this challenge. But I can’t do it for you. It must come from here.” She pounded her fist against her solar plexus. “And here.” Her fist moved to her heart. “Some, like Anaya, are born warriors. Others, like you, must learn to become a true warrior. You must find a reason to fight.”
They returned to the training school where Madeeka put Miranda through her paces with a two hour hand to hand combat session. When it was time to go, they bowed. Miranda, exhausted, stumbled out into the dusk and climbed aboard the carriage that was waiting. On the ride back, she was sullen. The training was over and she knew Anaya had outdone her. The next day the public challenges would begin and although she knew what was expected of her, she didn’t feel the fierceness it was going to take to be the victor, and part of her still didn’t want to win.
The Three Challenges Begin
Miranda and Anaya strode into the arena, wearing the attire of High Magicians; tight black pants reinforced at the knee, red tunics with the symbol of justice imprinted on them, tall grey boots, a cape, and a wand. As soon as they emerged, the crowd, which had been abuzz with conversation, broke into cheering and clapping. The first challenge was upon them – Magik Arts.
A large white circle had been drawn on the ground in the center of the field. They walked to opposite sides of it, met in the middle, and turned to face the High Council, who sat on a raised platform.
Magik Elder floated above the ground and spoke. “You will begin by performing on command a series of high skill manifestations, transformations and morphs. Now take your positions.”
Miranda and Anaya walked back to either side of the ring and turned to face each other. A table with a wand was placed in front of each of them. Wands up and ready, they listened for instructions.
Adiglia’s eyes closed. “Miranda. Manifest a frog!”
Miranda held her wand steady and concentrated while murmuring an incantation. She waved the wand just so. In a few seconds a small shiny frog appeared. She sighed in relief. She looked up for approval from Magik Elder, but the teacher was no longer in the same spot. Her voice bellowed from behind. “Anaya! Manifest a toad.”
Anaya focused. She chanted a series of phrases from the old tongue, waved her wand and a warty toad appeared.
Adiglia continued calling out a variety of things, but at a faster pace. The girls had to keep up. Animals faded in and then out, disappearing into the ether from whence they came.
“Miranda, a bondo!”
“Anaya, a snake!”
Magik Elder pointing to Miranda, “A rose!” Then to Anaya, “An orchid!”
She continued to accelerate the tempo, testing their skill. Multiple objects were manifesting simultaneously, fading in and out. It was impossible for the crowd to catch every image.
Even though Miranda had manifested better than she ever had, Anaya still out performed her and was declared the winner; her manifestations were overall larger, healthier looking, and clearer to the eye. She raised her arms in victory as the crowd applauded.
Later in the day, Miranda and Anaya sat at large desks in a large room of the Academy. A High Council member watched over them as they took the Academic challenge. It was made up of an exam that covered all the book subjects they learned at the Academy, plus an essay. In the evening, the results came in. Miranda was the victor. They were now tied.
The Final Challenge
In the arena, the High High Council members sat on the platform once again. Miranda and Anaya made imposing figures; dressed in full warrior gear, surrounded by a sphere of transparent light. They were barehanded, with sturdy fighting implements stored in their belts.
Head Elder Dosha stood and addressed them. “Today you will prove to us your physical abilities. You must stay within the circle of light. Let the challenge begin!”
The roar of the crowd reflected the rising tension as Miranda and Anaya slowly circled one another. Miranda was sure she had no chance to win this challenge – she could never match Anaya’s fighting prowess.
Anaya crossed one hand to the handle of a weapon without taking her eyes off her opponent. She quickly pulled out a knife, jumped high, somersaulted in the air and landed right in front of Miranda, who twisted to the left just as Anaya took a swipe at her. The sharp edge grazed Miranda’s chest, and soon there appeared a thin red line of blood.
A long sparring session ensued with Anaya continually upping the ante and increasing the complexity of her tactics, keeping Miranda on the defensive. After extensive sparring, they stood in a deadlock, holding one another’s sword arm back.
Anaya wrapped her leg around the back of Miranda’s, trying to bring her down. But Miranda remembered being brought down by Madeeka in the same way and grabbed Anaya’s lapel, taking her to the ground instead. But Anaya flipped Miranda to her back and held her sword up with one hand, poised to strike.
She kept a choking grip on Miranda's neck with her other hand. Miranda’s hands clutched at Anaya’s arm and fingers, but she couldn’t pry them loose. Anaya waited, savoring the attention from the crowd and stealing a gloating glance at her mother in the royal box.
Miranda, becoming weak from a lack of air, heard voices in her head repeating over and over:
Madeeka: “You must find a reason to fight.”
Angala: “Fight her with your heart.”
Anaya: “It’s not your fault if you were born first ... born first ... born first.”
Angala: “If Selexi gets control....”
Miranda looked at the future in the depth of Anaya’s vicious eyes and saw nothing but misery. She was surprised at a new sensation –determination. The will to win bubbled up like a geyser and she couldn’t stop its force. Her mind raced. I’m afraid not only for the future of the island, but also for myself. How can I go on, knowing I gave up? Maybe I was born first for a reason and this was all a test of my resolve to be who I truly am. Why didn’t I see it before? I have to become the leader I was meant to be, and claim my place as Sultana. It is mine!
Miranda felt a surge of energy and determination and found the strength to push Anaya over, shocking everyone. The crowd rushed to their feet. Suddenly she was showing a ferocity no one had ever seen in her before.
Anaya was as surprised by the sudden burst of combativeness as anyone else. Miranda bounded up from the ground and stood in the strongest of warrior stances, her eyes blazing with conviction, ready to claim what belonged to her.
Anaya was confused. She couldn’t adjust to Miranda being the aggressor. Where was the girl she always knew to be timid and insecure? She stole a glance at her mother, whose icy glare
was unrelentingly, emboldening Anaya to go in for the kill.
After some fancy combat, Miranda put Anaya in a compromising position and held a knife to her throat. Anaya grimaced in pain. She looked at her mother. Selexi was churning with rage. Miranda had put her full warrior skills to use for the first time ever, and in front of the entire island. Everyone was stunned to see that behind her submissive exterior, she truly was a Master Warrior of the highest order.
Anaya could not wiggle out of the hold, and knew that Miranda was not going to be dislodged. In fact, the look on Miranda’s face was so menacing, Anaya was afraid Miranda might go too far and inflict a fatal wound.
“Please don’t kill me,” pleaded Anaya. “We’re sisters after all.”
“Sisters,” spat Miranda, panting. “You only say that now because you need something from me – your very life. You’ll say anything to save yourself.”
Anaya said nothing, consumed by genuine fear, a rare sensation for her. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes – the ultimate humiliation.
Miranda knew that being a great leader entailed the use of strength. But just as important was selfcontrol; knowing when to back away, knowing when to show mercy. Anaya, terrified of what Miranda might do, struggled and gasped for air. “You win, Miranda. I surrender.”
“We both win,” said Miranda, keeping her grip, “if you’ll denounce your mother.”
Anaya glanced at Selexi. She could not promise anything of that nature. She would be the loser, but would have to remain enemies with her half sister. There was no other way.
“Never!”
Madeeka approached. “It’s over. You are the winner, Miranda! You can let her go.”
Miranda released her grip. Athedra breathed a sigh of relief while Selexi stormed out of the arena. Angala burst with pride. Freya, Astriella and Grideon cheered; and the spectators roared. The High High Council remained sober. They knew this was only the beginning of a long road ahead.
The Larimar Quest (Island Of Zarada Book 1) Page 15
