Ebudae

by Carroll, John H.

  Pelya rolled her eyes. “Guard units always stay together when on duty and the rest of the time I’m with an aunt or uncle, Daddy, or you.” She looked over Ebudae’s shoulder. “What spell is that? I can’t read the writing.”

  “It’s a spell that protects your mind. You can’t read it because it’s in one of the ancient languages you haven’t learned and probably never will.” Ebudae knew her friend had other interests like using swords and hitting people with chairs. Pelya could read nine languages and speak four fluently, but that didn’t compare to the twenty-three Ebudae could read or ten she could speak.

  Ever since learning to read, Ebudae had spent every available moment soaking up each book she could find. When she was nine, she had discovered a magical necklace in the ruined academy below that enabled her to absorb languages even faster and even speak them if she was willing to put in the effort. Still, twenty-three languages was a feat few people accomplished, even old wizards in their towers. It was an extraordinary accomplishment for a sixteen year old, but Ebudae knew she was an extraordinary person even though she tried to hide the fact from people.

  “It seems to me that a scroll that old would make it harder to learn and be more powerful.” Pelya put her hands on her hips. “That means that it’ll knock me out even harder before a battle. And how can I learn it if I can’t read it?”

  Ebudae rolled her eyes. “I’m going to teach it to you and there’re only a few words you’ll speak during the casting that you need to learn.”

  “Oh.” Pelya stretched like she was warming up for drills. She paid extra attention to stretching her fingers, which amused Ebudae.

  “And just because it’s old doesn’t mean it’s more powerful.” Ebudae smoothed the scroll out with a hand. “It is powerful, but it’s also one of the best-written spells I’ve ever seen. You’ll be able to cast it fast with little negative effect.”

  Pelya became more interested. “I like that. What exactly does it do?”

  “It clears your mind so you can focus and make decisions faster. Then it coats your mind in an eggshell barrier that’s soft on the inside and hard on the outside,” Ebudae explained excitedly. “Very few spells will be able to break through it to befuddle your mind.”

  “How long does it last?”

  “It’s strong for two or three hours and then it fades away gradually over a few hours after that. Of course it’ll go away faster if spells do hit it, so keep that in mind.”

  “Right.” Pelya gave a sharp nod of acknowledgement. “Standard stuff.” She unhooked her sword and laid it on one of the tables.

  “Good, let’s start with the gestures.” Ebudae performed a series of six hand motions, each of which gracefully flowed into the next. She loved watching her hands as the long fingers danced through the air. It was her favorite part of casting.

  Pelya stared at the movement before looking at Ebudae in frustration. “I can’t move my hands like that.” She held them up in the air. “They’re strong and fast, but yours move like hummingbirds and are as delicate as porcelain.”

  Ebudae sighed in exasperation. She wished her friend could just duplicate the motion, but knew it was expecting too much of anyone. Taking a deep breath, she strengthened her resolve and began going through the gestures one at a time.

  After an hour, Pelya was doing a good job. It would never be as precise and fluid as Ebudae, but doing it correctly was the important thing. “I’m comfortable with that even if it does feel like my fingers are going to tie themselves around my thumbs.” Pelya grinned wryly. “What’s next?”

  “The words.” Ebudae glanced at the scroll to make certain she had them all fresh in her mind. “The language is smooth and pretty. I love the way the words caress my tongue. We can sit for this part.” She picked up the scroll and they went to a couch to sit down. “We’re going to go over each and every syllable at first. Then we’ll start stringing them together.”

  It took another hour until Pelya could say the entire incantation with confidence. They ate a snack and rested awhile before continuing.

  “Alright. Now it’s time to put it all together. We’ll start with individual components of the spell, combining words and gestures. Between each one, we’ll discharge any energy gathered.” Ebudae pointed at a pair of silver rods set in a large bowl of murky water. The water had ingredients that soaked magical energy to help the discharge.

  “Are there any ingredients or items that I have to use?” Pelya asked.

  Such things were common for many spells, but this one didn’t need those things. “No. The gestures and words are works of art in my opinion. You’ll be able to cast it with just those.”

  Pelya nodded and began. They took it through the six parts of the spell over the next half hour, pausing between each part to discharge energy. “I’m ready.” There were beads of sweat on Pelya’s forehead. It required great effort to manipulate a spell, even in parts.

  “Are you confident in your ability to cast the spell without error?” Ebudae asked the question intently. If a person casting a spell doubted their ability, it would be easy for it all to go terribly wrong. Things could still go wrong, but the caster had to recognize and accept that without fear in order to proceed.

  “I am.” The answer was simple and determination in Pelya’s eyes lent weight to their truth.

  “Good. Stand in the middle of the circles and cast the spell.” Ebudae pointed at the large, concentric circles in the corner of the room. They made up a ward with runes written in each circle using liquid yucerm, a weak metal that could channel vast amounts of magical energy. It was expensive, so she didn’t use it for very many things. It was necessary for that particular rune circle though. It was where Ebudae practiced casting all her spells. If something did go wrong, then the circle would absorb the energy of an errant spell, preventing it from destroying the caster. It would also protect the rest of the building and everyone in it from a cataclysmic error.

  Pelya stepped into the center of the circle and turned to face Ebudae. Putting her hands together in front of her, Pelya closed her eyes and took deep, level breaths to clear her mind. It was a difficult task for many students to be able to concentrate on magic, but Pelya had refined her mental abilities throughout a childhood of weapons drilling. It served her well with magic.

  A few moments later, Pelya’s eyes opened and she rested her arms at her side. When Ebudae encouraged her, the warrior girl began slowly, but self-assuredly, performing the gestures of the spell. At the same time, she spoke the words, making certain to pronounce each inflection precisely.

  Wisps of Pelya’s hair that had escaped the braid fluttered back as a magical wind blew against her face. It affected only her, leaving everything else in the room alone. A soft, white glow of energy formed around her hands as she neared the end of the casting.

  Pelya’s hands rose to either side of her head with the last gesture. As the final word was spoken, the supernatural wind reversed direction and hit Pelya in the back. She kept her balance against the force as the white glow soaked into the pores of her face and head, disappearing with a shimmer of light in her eyes.

  Pelya took a deep breath and let her arms relax down to her sides. She let it out before slowly walking out of the circles. Ebudae grinned at the look of awe on her friend’s face. “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes! Everything I see is sharper, like all of my senses work twice as well.” Pelya blinked a couple of times. “I see what you mean about the egg shell, but the inside is soft and velvety, not slimy like egg . . . stuff.”

  “Egg stuff?” Ebudae rolled her eyes. “I see that it doesn’t matter how clear we make your mind, you’re obviously going to remain a barbarian all your life.”

  “Hey!” Pelya thwapped her on the shoulder. “I am not a barbarian, you brat!” They laughed and shoved each other playfully before relaxing on the couch. Pelya turned her head left and right. “This is amazing,” she said in an awed voice. “It feels good, like I can handle
anything. It also feels private, like no one could ever see what I’m thinking.”

  “That’s what it does. It still takes energy out of you, but nowhere near as much as a lot of other spells that protect the mind, and tiredness doesn’t hit you until after a few hours when the effects start to wear off.” It was one of Ebudae’s favorite spells and she used it every day for the last year because she liked how sharp it made her mind feel. She was so in tune with it that the effects lasted all day, wearing off only when she went to sleep.

  “I’m hungry,” Pelya said. Magic took a lot out of a person and the spell was a strong one, meaning that she would need three or four meals worth of food to compensate. After that, Ebudae knew her friend would collapse from exhaustion and sleep until morning before demanding a large enough breakfast to feed multiple people.

  “Alright, let’s get some food.” They headed down to the kitchen.

  Chapter 2

  The green glass that made up the large conservatory was rare and expensive. Beautiful plants filled the room with fragrant aromas. Fortunately, it didn’t overpower the delectable tastes of the excellent breakfast the girls shared with Pelya’s father and Ebudae’s grandmother the next day.

  “So, where do the two of you plan on going?” Frath Jornin asked sternly from where he sat with folded arms. Even sitting in the chair across the glass-topped, wrought-iron table, Pelya’s father towered over everyone. When standing, he was six-feet, three-inches tall. Wavy black hair touched the shoulders of the brown City Guard tunic he wore over a chain shirt. Years of wielding a sword in the Guard had honed his muscles, making him thick and strong. If that weren’t enough, he had a reputation as a great swordsman and a powerful fighter.

  Most intimidating of all, were brilliant purple eyes that sparkled like amethyst gems. Shortly after Pelya’s birth, he had disappeared for a few days and become God-Touched. It meant that a god had directly touched his mind, an event that drove most people insane or outright killed them.

  Ebudae knew him to be a good man though. He had saved her grandmother and mother when he was only fourteen, younger than she and Pelya were currently. Frath was also well respected in the Dralin City Guard, holding the rank of master sergeant.

  “We’re going to Carnival, Daddy,” Pelya said around a bite of the pancakes on her third plate of breakfast that morning.

  Frath eyed the amount of food suspiciously and was about to say something else, but let it go instead. “This makes me nervous.” He scratched the side of his nose, which had been broken more than once. The statement worried Ebudae. Her grandmother notoriously did her best to make Ebudae suffer. There was no telling how she would respond.

  “Nonsense. They’re capable young women.” Lady Pallon had a strong, clear voice that sounded like a spoon ringing against crystal. Wrinkles created by decades of smiling lined her face, but she sat tall and straight despite her age. Dark pink eyes, which were common in Dralin and much of the world, held vast intelligence and wisdom. “Of course, they may do something foolish and get themselves killed. That would certainly ease our burden, hmm?”

  Frath’s face reddened and he looked ready to leap out of his chair and throttle the old woman. Ebudae gasped involuntarily and shrank back in her chair. Lady Pallon didn’t react, other than to put her chin on the back of a hand and smirk at Frath.

  Pelya’s father settled back and rubbed his face with both hands. “It’s so hard to tell when you’re teasing me because I know you mean it when you say things like that.” Instead of being offended, Lady Pallon laughed aloud. She neither admitted nor denied the accusation. Frath turned to Ebudae. “I’m sorry you had to be raised by your grandmother. You’ve turned into a fine young woman in spite of it.” A corner of his mouth turned up in amusement and a facet of his amethyst eyes glinted.

  “Thank you, Sir.” Ebudae didn’t know how else to respond. Frath had always treated her with respect and was the only adult to do so. She would die if he ever said anything harsh to her. To make matters worse, she didn’t consider herself a fine young woman by any means. Her entire life had consisted of sneaking around in dark ruins, reading forbidden books and learning magic that could kill people. Only Pelya knew that Ebudae had killed a person with magic.

  “You don’t need to be so serious. It’d be nice to see you smile every now and then, lass.” Frath said in his strong, deep voice. Ebudae tried to smile, even though she didn’t feel happy. She lifted the corners of her mouth and showed her teeth. Frath jerked back in alarm. “Umm . . . never mind. You don’t need to smile.”

  The food filling Pelya’s mouth shot out onto her plate as she tried to laugh. She became lost in a fit that was half choking, half laughter, totally missing Ebudae’s piercing glare.

  Lady Pallon looked at the scene with a raised eyebrow. “Well, that’s enough of that. It’s time to be rid of you. Go off to Carnival and try not to get yourselves killed, kidnapped, turned into prostitutes, or into one of the Deformed.” She took a sip of tea. “I will stay here and enjoy a peaceful day in my conservatory.”

  The girls jumped up, ready to leave before she changed her mind. Frath glared at his longtime friend again as he stood. “I have things to do, so I’ll see them out.”

  “You’re not going to stay?” Lady Pallon asked innocently.

  “I consider you a true friend, but there are times when you infuriate me. Good day, Milady.” He bowed curtly and spun to leave, gesturing for the girls to follow him.

  The girls ran after him, trying to keep up with his long stride. Ebudae expected her grandmother to say something before they moved out of earshot, but no words followed them. She made it a point not to look back, in fear that the nasty old woman’s gaze might turn her to stone.

  They passed through the main hall to the front entry in no time at all. Frath threw open the doors and marched down the front walkway. Pelya and Ebudae closed the doors frantically and then ran after him, only catching up at the main gate.

  A squirrel rushed down a branch of the tree to one side of the gate and spoke words to make the black iron open. Once on the sidewalk bordering the wide, cobbled street, Frath stopped with hands on hips. The girls stopped behind him, not daring to say anything. Suddenly he turned. After staring at them for a moment, he let out a large breath and visibly relaxed. “I’m sorry. It just makes me so . . .” He inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “You ladies enjoy yourself, but please, please stay out of trouble,” he pleaded. “I worry about you . . .”

  “We’ll be fine, Daddy. I promise.” Pelya gave him a great big hug. Then she took Ebudae by the hand and the two girls ran off down the street.

  They stopped running as soon as they were out of sight around the corner. “That was the most nerve wracking thing ever!” Ebudae said in relief as they moved along the sidewalk.

  “I thought daddy was going to kill your grandmother.”

  “So did I,” Ebudae agreed.

  “See, I told you he gets angry,” Pelya said. “It’s scary when he gets like that. He does it with me sometimes. It’s like he’s going to punch me or something.”

  That concerned Ebudae and she took her friend by both arms, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “Tell me the truth, has he hit you?”

  Pelya shook her head. “No. It just feels like he wants to, like he’s mad at me and he balls his hands up into fists.” There was fear in her eyes. “It would hurt a lot if he did hit me. I’m tough, but . . .”

  “He’s not going to hit you. Call me silly if you want, but I don’t think he’ll ever hurt you like that.” Ebudae felt it strongly and hoped with all her heart it was true.

  The words seemed to get through. “You think so?” Pelya asked hopefully.

  “Yes. I do.”

  “Alright. That makes me feel better. Thank you.” They hugged fiercely.

  “Pelya Jornin?” A clear, powerful voice came from the street next to them. They looked up to see a man in shining, plate armor sitting atop a magnificent warhorse. His eyes were
the same color of the sky above him. His face was strong and noble, but kind at the same time. Dark blonde hair fell to his shoulders and matched the neatly trimmed beard and mustache. A fine orange tunic had a golden sun embroidered on the chest and matched the cloak flowing down his back. Both girls curtseyed, recognizing him as a knight.

  “Yes, Sir Knight?” Pelya responded. Ebudae remembered Pelya telling her about a knight she met when she was ten. It was the day her Uncle Bobbell had died, one that Pelya had tried to forget ever since.

  “Are you well, Pelya Jornin?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir Knight.”

  “And is your father well?”

  “Yes, Sir Knight. You asked after my father once before. Please tell me how you know him.” Pelya’s speech was very formal, showing respect to the man.

  “I was at the Shining Shield Inn the day you were born, lass. Your father took responsibility for you and held you with pride, though his eyes despaired at the loss of your mother.” A look of sadness crossed his face. “It was obvious that he truly loved her. I gave my blessings at her funeral a few days after.” He looked at the wrought iron fence of Lady Pallon’s manor. It wasn’t possible to see through it due to the enormous bushes inside that kept viewers from seeing in. “This is the manor where the ashes were spread by the dry fountain, isn’t it?”

  When Pelya didn’t answer, Ebudae looked to see tears streaming down her face. She wrapped an arm around her friend’s shoulders and answered the knight. “Yes, Sir Knight. Except the fountain holds crystal clear water and has worked since that day.”

  He smiled, exposing brilliantly white teeth. “That is good to hear.” He turned back to Pelya. “It was not my intention to upset you, Pelya Jornin. I am sorry to see the grief in you.”

  Pelya nodded. “I’m s . . . sorry,” she stammered, wiping the tears off the best she could. Ebudae handed her a handkerchief.