by Sam Ferguson
“That is because we withheld it,” Alferug said. “By our king’s order we kept the final passage hidden when we copied the book for others.”
“Why did you do that?” Erik asked.
“To protect you,” Alferug said. “If everyone knew how to identify the Champion of Truth, then it would be easy for the enemy to find you, or worse still, perhaps they could have found a way to impersonate the Champion of Truth by using spells of deceit.”
“What do you mean?” Erik asked.
Marlin nodded and set the book down. “Because everyone knows that the Champion of Truth has to be proven through the Exalted Test of Arophim, no one dares try to step forward falsely, but if they knew that all they had to do is fashion a black sword and make white flames appear on it, then any half-witted mage could try to come forward and claim to be the Champion of Truth.”
“Exactly,” the dwarf said. “So we kept that part back from the rest of the kingdom. We wanted to avoid the chaos of having multiple false champions coming forward to try and get the book.”
“Clever,” Marlin said. “How is it that you have the original copy?” he asked.
Alferug beamed with pride. “By virtue of my office in the court, I am entrusted to keep the book safe, and to offer advice to the king when needed to help the Champion of Truth.”
“So, when will I be able to use my dragon power?” Erik asked.
Marlin cut in. “There is some debate about that,” he said. “Some believe that The Champion of Truth will automatically change into a dragon upon reaching the age of adulthood, and others believe it is a power that he can use at will once his training is complete.”
“Which is it?” Erik asked. Marlin shrugged.
“I can see the merits of both theories, but I have not run across any texts that decide the matter definitively.” The prelate then turned a keen eye on Alferug. “The dwarves wouldn’t have kept that secret as well, would they?”
Alferug scoffed. “No,” he said. “We have the same debates in our hall about the meaning of the word ‘maturity’ that is written in the passage.” He sighed and looked back to Erik. “One thing most of us do agree with is that it is likely extremely dangerous to try and force the change. Al and I took the risk only because you had already been able to change from Lepkin’s form into the dragon.”
“But to do so now could be disastrous,” Marlin interjected. “Not only is your power raw, but unlike Lepkin’s body, yours has not reached maturity and would likely not survive the change.”
Erik looked to the floor. “So what do we do?” he asked.
“We train,” Marlin said. “And as soon as you are ready, you will take the test and advance to the next stage.”
“I am ready now,” Erik said confidently.
Alferug leaned back in his chair and looked at Erik hard for a moment. “You have been through a lot,” he said. “But I don’t think you are quite ready yet.”
“Why not?” Erik argued. “I have already changed into a dragon, twice! I have called forth the white flames many times now, and I have been able to use my power in all sorts of ways. I used it to dispel the warlock’s spell and reveal his true form in the senate hall, I used it to discern which senators were evil and corrupt, and I even used it to find magical traps in the warlock’s home. What more do I have to prove before I can take the test?”
“There is a lot more,” Marlin said softly.
“And in the meantime how many more of my friends will die?” Erik spurted out. His face was flush red and he was breathing heavily. “I don’t want to wait anymore.”
Marlin knelt down next to him. “I understand,” he said. “I can see the anger and the hurt in you. Do you remember when I said I would never force you to take the Exalted Test of Arophim?”
Erik nodded once.
“I also can’t allow you to take it too early. To do so would be carelessly risking your life.”
“I have already been risking my life,” Erik replied.
Marlin smiled. “That you have,” he said. “I promise I won’t delay your test one second longer than I have to in order to prepare you.”
“What else do you want me to do?” Erik asked.
“Come with me,” Marlin said. “Let’s go back up to the training room.”
*****
Marlin moved quietly through the halls and up the stone steps. As he slipped out from the stairwell and into the hall where Lepkin lay, he looked both ways. One of the temple priests stood at the far end, leaning on the window sill and looking outside. No one else was in the hall. The prelate walked to the door and opened it just enough to slip inside the room.
Inside only a few torches were lit, but it was more than enough light to see clearly. Four priests stood around Lepkin with their hands on his upper body. They chanted healing spells and Marlin could see the energy flowing from them to Lepkin. The priests’ eyes were closed, and none seem to notice him as he moved behind one of the pillars closer to where Lepkin lay.
His mind was heavy, still replaying the warning he had received earlier. Who could the traitor be? He scanned the healers’ auras briefly, just to double check his own men. He saw no fault in any of them. He thought about the dragon’s words and knew that it had to be one of the people who came with Erik to the temple. He found it hard to believe that either Alferug or Jaleal could be the traitors the dragon spoke of.
Perhaps it was one of the dwarves outside the walls? That would be the only thing that made sense, since he hadn’t been able to scan any of their auras. Except, he was told that it was someone inside the temple. He sighed and put the thoughts out of his head.
Marlin stepped forward, scanning Lepkin’s aura as the healers finished and began to break their connection with him. “Any change?” he asked.
“None,” one of the healers said.
Marlin walked in and placed a hand over Lepkin’s forehead. “We are running out of time,” he said. The hairs on the back of his neck began to rise, as they had in the sacred chamber below. It was as if a pair of eyes were upon him. Marlin used his peripheral vision to scan the room, but saw no hint of any other life force. Suddenly Marlin looked up, and saw an aura hiding up on top of one of the large beams, in the crook of a joist, high up on the ceiling. Marlin squinted and recognized the aura almost instantly. “You can come down,” Marlin said with a hard edge to his tone.
The aura didn’t move.
“Come down, Jaleal,” Marlin said. His tone was sharper this time.
Jaleal descended and bowed before him. “I only came to help,” the gnome said.
“By hiding in the shadows with a spear?” Marlin questioned.
“It isn’t what it looks like,” Jaleal said. “Trust me, I can help him.”
“How?” Marlin said. His white eyes bored into the gnome’s swirling aura, looking for the truth behind the creature’s words. Jaleal started to fidget and squirm.
“Just…” the gnome stammered. “Just watch.” He moved to Lepkin’s bed, jumped up and raised his spear overhead.
Marlin launched into action and struck Jaleal with a psionic blast that sent the little creature sprawling through the air to land on the far side of the room. “Hold fast!” Marlin commanded. “Move and we will send you to Hammenfein!”
Jaleal shook his head and scanned the room. He sprinted for the nearest shadow and called forth his cloaking spell, but it proved useless. Every man in the room came charging straight for him. “Stop,” Jaleal said. “It isn’t what it looks like.”
“Take him!” Marlin commanded.
Several hands gripped Jaleal’s arms and legs, wrenching the spear from him and holding him in the air above the floor.
“I was warned,” Marlin grumbled.
“Warned about what?” Jaleal asked with trembling voice. “I just want to help!”
“You just tried to kill Lepkin,” Marlin countered.
“No, I can wake him,” Jaleal insisted. “I knew how it would look to you, so I was going to w
ait until the others left before I did it.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Marlin asked.
“Prelate, I see no lie in the gnome’s words,” one of the healers said. “His aura is clean.”
“See?” Jaleal squealed with a nod toward the healer. “Listen to him, let me show you.”
Marlin paused and looked intensely at the gnome. He too saw no hint of falsehood in the gnome’s aura, but he also knew what he had just seen, as well as what the dragon had said. Finally he gave a shake of his head. “No, I can’t risk it,” he said.
“What do we do?” one of the healers asked.
“Give me his spear and then expel him from the temple.” One of the healers handed him the mithril spear and then Marlin watched the others struggle to hold the writhing creature as they quickly hefted him out of the room. The prelate looked down to the spear. “What else can I do?” he asked himself.
*****
“So, how was the training session?” Alferug asked.
Erik looked up from the round cushion he sat on in the middle of the room and saw the dwarf walking into the room, book in hand. “We just did a review,” Erik said impatiently.
“Oh?”
“Just dispelling fake images and guessing which warrior wants to bash my head in with a rattan sword, things like that,” Erik explained.
Alferug drew his mouth to the left corner and wrinkled his nose. “Ah, I see,” he commented. “Well, a review is the proper place to start, I suppose.”
Erik shrugged and drew an imaginary line on the floor with his index finger. “I don’t really feel like reading,” he said.
The dwarf sat in front of Erik and opened the book to the final page. “That’s alright with me,” he said as he turned the book around for Erik to see. “I wanted to concentrate on writing.” He took a piece of chalk from his satchel and held it out for Erik. “Come on,” Alferug insisted when Erik hesitated. “I saw how much you enjoyed the wind on your face and the power of your wings. If you want to feel that again, then we should learn how to write this.”
Erik took the chalk and his mood improved noticeably. “Writing the rune will help me change?” he asked.
“No,” Alferug said with a frown. “Not by itself, anyway. But it will help you commit the runes to memory, and you will need to be able to do that before you can use them.”
Erik nodded and looked down at the book. Alferug placed his pointer finger just above the first rune. Erik started from the left and drew the top line to the right. Alferug reached out and wiped the line away. “What are you doing?” Erik asked.
“These are not written from left to right, like the common tongue,” Alferug explained. “You must start each line from the right and go to the left. Begin with the top stroke and work your way down, but always from the right to the left.”
“What difference does it make, as long as it looks the same?” Erik asked. He didn’t mean to sound rude, but he could tell by Alferug’s stern expression that he had struck a small nerve.
“You aren’t drawing a picture,” Alferug said. “You are writing an ancient, magical language. It must be exact, or else it will have no power.”
Erik nodded and started over. He placed his chalk farther to the right and drew a mostly-straight line to the left.
“It may feel strange at first,” Alferug said. “But that is why we practice, to get it right.” Alferug erased the line with his sleeve. “Do it again, as straight and exact as possible.”
Erik sighed and leaned forward, concentrating to hold the chalk just so. He slowly, purposefully drew the line to the left and once he finished he pulled the chalk away and looked to Alferug for confirmation before continuing. The dwarf nodded and gestured for him to continue. Next, Erik started a curved line, like a ‘C’ which was easy enough. Then he connected a third line to the bottom of the curve and drew it up to the opposite line, but he pressed too hard and the chalk broke and his line ended with a jagged hook.
Alferug leaned forward, erased the whole rune, and said, “Try again.”
In the space of three hours Erik had only drawn two of the symbols to Alferug’s satisfaction. Erik leaned back from the floor and stretched his back. His leg ached too, and it was highly uncomfortable to sit on the cushion.
“We can continue tomorrow,” Alferug said.
“No, I can continue,” Erik said. “Just, maybe let’s write on the wall instead of the floor.”
The dwarf smiled and nodded his agreement. “Alright.” He walked over to a clear space on the wall and drew the first two runes for Erik. Each stroke was quick and exact, like the precision of a master swordsman. As each symbol was completed it began to glow slightly. The first was green, and the second was yellow.
“They glow when you write them,” Erik commented.
Alferug nodded. “I have learned the magic behind the symbols,” he said.
“When I learn the magic, will the symbols glow like yours?” Erik asked.
Alferug shook his head with a big smile. “No, your symbols will be much brighter than mine,” he said. The two spent the rest of the day writing the runes on the wall until the bell chimed for dinner and Lady Dimwater came up to get them both.
When the three of them entered the dining hall, Erik noticed that Jaleal was not at the table, nor anywhere in the room. “Where is Jaleal?” Erik asked.
“He is no longer a guest of the temple,” Marlin said.
Erik frowned. “Why not?”
Marlin tapped his fingers on the table in front of him.
Lady Dimwater came to his rescue. “Jaleal tried to stab Lepkin with his spear,” she said coldly. She turned an eye on Marlin. “So the Prelate expelled him from the temple.”
“Why save me only to try to kill Lepkin?” Erik asked.
“The boy’s right, that doesn’t make much sense,” Alferug added.
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Marlin said. “The healers in the room saw it also.”
“I would have fried the little pygmy,” Lady Dimwater growled.
Marlin pushed his plate away. “I agree with Erik and Alferug,” he told her. “I don’t think it makes sense either.”
“Then why expel him?” Alferug pressed.
“Because I received a warning,” Marlin said simply.
Alferug started to ask a question but Lady Dimwater shook her head and he stopped. Erik glanced between the three of them, trying to decide what the unspoken message was. When none of them offered a more detailed explanation, he gave up and took a bite of his roast chicken. They ate their meal in silence and each went their separate ways at the end of the meal. Erik felt a rift in the harmony that had once been so prevalent in the temple. He found himself longing for Lepkin to wake, or at least for Al to return.
He went off to bed feeling more alone than he did during his early training days at Kuldiga Academy when Lepkin hardly spoke to him and the other boys teased him. As he laid his head on his pillow he found his mind going back to his time at the academy. He recalled the tournament where he had beaten so many of the other apprentices. He thought about his first glimpse of Lady Dimwater’s study. A slight chill ran down his spine as he remembered the ghost that had chased him through the hall.
Then his mind drifted back to the tournament and he remembered Hal, the asthmatic apprentice. He wondered where he was now. All of the other masters were either dead or in Drakei Glazei at the moment. Had they been able to send all of the students home, or had something happened to them? He briefly thought of Orres and the others who had fallen, and then he raised his hand up to his chest. His eyes shot open wide when he realized he didn’t have his father’s ring.
He jumped down from his bed, stopping and grabbing his leg as the pain reminded him he had to move slower at the moment. The burning knot gradually lessened enough for him to climb the stairs up to where Lepkin was. He found a pair of temple guards flanking the door.
“The prelate has ordered that no one go in,” one of them said.
/> “Even me?” Erik asked.
The guards looked to each other briefly. “I doubt he meant him,” the other said.
“Be quick,” the first said.
Erik nodded and went in. Six healers stood around Lepkin, about to begin their spells. They stopped and looked at him curiously. “I came because I forgot something,” Erik said. “When I was in his body, I had a ring around my neck on a leather thong. I need it back.” One of the healers gently lifted Lepkin’s shirts and pulled the necklace out. Erik sighed with relief when he saw the emerald ring and he rushed forward to take it. He quickly slipped the leather thong around his neck and tucked the ring under his shirt. “Thanks,” he said. Then he slowly made his way, limping down the stairs back to his bedroom.
Once on his bed he fell asleep within minutes, clutching the ring through his shirt.
CHAPTER TWENTYONE
Erik stood in the center of the training room. His lungs burned and his head ached. His throat was dry and begging for a drink. Sweat dripped from the back of his neck and the front of his brow.
“Let’s try once again,” Marlin said.
“It has been almost two weeks,” Erik said. “I can’t do this.”
“If you want to take the test, you will have to be able to do this.”
“Did you have to master this before your test?” Erik asked.
Marlin bristled. “Mine was not the exalted test,” he said coolly. “But, yes, I did have to demonstrate this power as well.”
Erik jerked his head to the left and cracked his neck. He picked his hands up and held them both in front of him, palms out as if about to push someone. He focused, concentrating on the air between his hands. He nodded when he was ready.
Marlin moved to a lever on the wall and pulled it. Oil rushed into a trough along the wall. Then the prelate set a match to the oil and flames whooshed through the room, filling it with a thick smoke. “Light banishes the darkness,” Marlin called out as he disappeared behind the film of smoke. “Your gift allows you to control physical elements as well as magical ones. Now, concentrate and banish the smoke.”
