Chronicles of Galadria II - Encounters

by David Gay-Perret

  “Hmm, the Destroyer,” murmured the man. “But the four of you were unaware that you were the Destroyer, and didn't know how it could be possible for your friends to be maggs, right?”

  “Exactly,” admitted the boy. “Plus, no one has been able to clearly explain what the title really means. Everyone reveres the name, because it represents hope and a future, but that really doesn’t help me very much. In all of this, the only thing that is really clear to me is that Baras is a menace and that, for the moment, I have to master Iretane. After that, we’ll see what I can actually do.”

  “It’s true that all of this is confusing. However, I can tell you this at least: everything related to the Destroyer is also connected to Iretane. Let me just say that as for this role that they have granted to you... Know that above all else, you are you. Being ‘the Destroyer’ doesn’t really mean much; in the end, it’s just power that you’ve been given. But that power doesn’t dictate your actions. You must live your life the way you decide.”

  Glaide looked at the man, not really understanding what he was saying. Seeing that, the man continued, “It’s a bit complicated to explain, but we’ll have plenty of occasions to talk about it again. For the moment, just know that you are safe, and that you will learn how to wield your sword to protect those that are dear to you. I do not have all of the answers that you are looking for, but I will share what I know with you. To be truthful, I think only Aras and Baras would really be able to explain all of the mysteries surrounding you and your friends.”

  Glaide sighed. “That’s the conclusion I’ve come to. But I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m glad to be here, and the life that I have lived in these past few months has been fantastic. In the end, I don’t think the reasons why I am here really matter that much. What will happen will happen. In the meantime, I’m going to make the most of what is around me.”

  “And I have great respect for your enthusiasm. Let it be your strength throughout your life. Do your friends share your optimism?”

  The adolescent shook his head. “Sadly, no. When we first arrived, they were in complete despair. With time, they began to see the positive side of different events, but it has been very difficult for them. I kick myself for having brought them here. To a certain extent, I’ve felt like this adventure was a sort of answer to prayer, but for them, it’s been a nightmare. Who knows how long they will be trapped here? That is, if there is even a way for them to return someday, at all...”

  “I see,” murmured the man. “Now I at least have some insight on your situation. How do you think they will fare without you?”

  “I think they’ll be okay. At first, they relied on me for everything: I chose where we would go, and I always had to produce some goal for them, to keep them moving. But by the time I left them, they’d learned how to act on their own initiative, and to make their own decisions. And at any rate, without me nearby, they are in less danger.”

  “You don’t feel as though you’ve abandoned them?”

  Glaide thought about the question for a moment, then replied firmly, “No, I didn’t abandon them, I simply travelled away from them.”

  Kezthrem nodded. “Good, then,” he said, getting up from the table. “Everything is clear to me now, at least. You have much to do and much to learn, but I will try to teach you as much as I can, about Iretane, but also about Galadria. We may not know what the future holds, but we at least know this about the present: from now on, and through the months that we will pass together, I, Kezthrem, master of Iretane, will take you on as my disciple, and I promise that I will teach you everything that is necessary to master this technique.”

  Glaide got up from his seat in turn, and, not knowing the traditional phrases for the situation, improvised his own, saying, “I, Glaide, who have come from another world, accept, and will be a student of the master of Iretane, obeying his instruction to the best of my ability, so that I can learn all that he judges it useful to instill in me.”

  Kezthrem smiled, then added, “Watch out, Glaide. That is not an oath to take lightly. You do not know the magnitude of what you have agreed to do.”

  “I have given my word, and I will keep it, master.”

  The man smiled again. “Whatever the case, it is late, and you must be exhausted. Let me show you to your room.”

  Glaide followed this man who henceforward was to be his master. They climbed the stairs, arriving in some sort of a hallway. In front of the stairs and behind them, the young man could see more of the sliding panels, each opening onto a balcony that extended along the whole length of the building, offering an excellent view of the forest and the rest of the hill on one side, and the path via which the young man had arrived on the other. A spiral staircase in the middle of the space led up to the ceiling. The right side of the space was bordered by a solid, wooden wall, which opened into a hallway just to the right of the stairs, and bordered by the front eaves.

  The disciple and his master maneuvered around the staircase, and stepped into the hallway near it. Glaide realized that all of the walls at the front and back of the building could be folded up, making it possible to open the entire side of the structure. He could now see two doors in the hallway, like the kind found in much of the western world, made of thick, hard wood, off to the left. They led to two separate bedrooms.

  The room for the young man was at the end of the hall, and he entered it, following behind Kezthrem. The room was about fifteen feet by twenty feet. At the back, the sliding walls gave access to a balcony that opened out over the forest and the garden. There was a small window in the wall to the right, and underneath it was a plush futon that, at this late hour, seemed irresistible to the young man. As he looked about the room, Glaide felt emotion seize him. It felt like he was living in feudal Japan, a time and place marked by an architectural style that he had always loved, and which he could now see directly before him! The wall to the left had a second door, which opened towards Kezthrem’s room, which would let them reach each other quickly in case of emergency, without having to use the balcony or the hallway.

  “So, are you pleased with the place?” asked the man.

  “Of course!” exclaimed Glaide. “It’s amazing!”

  “Good. You can sleep as late as you would like in the morning. Rest well, and gain your strength back. We’re in no hurry.”

  “Right. Thank you for everything, master.”

  The man nodded, then left. With further ado, the young man carefully folded his heavy cape, removed his boots, placed the jacket and shirt he’d been wearing in a corner, and lay down on the mattress. The material was clean and soft. The bed in Adrish, the last place where he had had a proper bed, had not been nearly as comfortable. The young man felt sore and exhausted, both in mind and body, and while the latter took full advantage of the downy futon, the former wandered, unable to fix on any one thing. Glaide looked at the ceiling, and the light of the moon, passing through the window, illuminated the gentle smile that floated across his lips. “I’ve done it,” he murmured. “I made it...”

  Then, he slept, overcome by his fatigue.

  Chapter 16

  WHEN Glaide awoke, he kept his eyes closed. For a few minutes, he couldn’t remember where he was. His journey had led him from one place to another so much that he could no longer remember where he’d spent the night. He was lying on something too soft to be just the grass of the plain, and he could feel that he had undressed, and his chest was bare. Slowly, bit by bit, the conversation of the night before began to return to his memory, at first vague and unclear, then more and more precise. He smiled, his eyes still closed out of fear that it might be just a dream that was reaching its end, then he opened them. A few rays of sunlight passed through the window, warming his face.

  He decided to take in his surroundings. His eyes looked to the ceiling. Excitement began to fill him, and he could no longer stay still. He got up quickly, and it was all he could do not to burst out in shouts of joy. He turned around for a moment to take
in the room, the scents, the sounds, and everything that surrounded him.

  He danced a bit of a jig, without really knowing why, then headed towards the wall at the back of the room, which he opened. The fresh air of morning whisked across his face, the trees before him swaying gently in the breeze; the weather was magnificent. The young man moved out onto the balcony, taking care not to come too close to the edge; as he had noticed upon his arrival the evening before, there was no barrier between him and the edge, and the eaves didn’t form a very large space. Besides which, with his fear of heights, staying back a bit seemed preferable.

  From his position, he could see the small garden that he had noticed during the discussion in the room below. In reality, it appeared to be a small clearing, bordered on one side by the building, and on the other by the forest, which did not appear to be too thick; composed of a few tall trees, primarily pines, with their trunks spaced wide apart, the woods would be easy to pass through.

  Soon, Glaide noticed a noise that repeated regularly. It almost sounded like a wooden surface being tapped with a stick. He moved a little closer to the edge, and spotted his master, who was busily striking a tree stump with a bokken, a wooden sword for training. As if he knew he was being watched, Kezthrem lifted his head. “Good morning, Glaide,” he called up to his disciple.

  “Morning, master!” he responded joyfully.

  “Did you sleep well?”

  “Very well, thanks.”

  The man smiled. “I left some new clothing for you by the door. Get dressed, then come down and join me.”

  “I’m coming!”

  Before he had a chance to turn away, the man added, “Be sure to hang onto the clothes you brought. We’ll drop them off at a laundry the next time we go into town. Oh, and bring your sword down with you.”

  “Right, will do.” Glaide sprinted into his room, and quickly spotted the clothes in the corner of the room. The way they were folded, he couldn’t tell what type of clothing they were. As he drew closer, though, he could tell that it was two pieces of cloth along with some sandals made of straw. The young man unfolded the two pieces of clothing, and immediately recognized what they were: a kimono! They were the same type he’d worn to train with Uziere. The top was white, and the bottom black.

  He quickly made his sword appear, then took it off. He changed into his new clothing, then went to place his pants, which he carefully folded, with the rest of his clothing. He took a moment to look in his sack, and noticed that he had no provisions left at all. However, his sweater and jeans, as well as his other change of clothing were there. He carefully folded them and placed them with the rest of his things, thinking that sooner or later, he would need to get rid of those things that marked his arrival from another world.

  He picked up his sword by its sheath, since the belt didn’t seem terribly well adapted to his new outfit, put on his sandals, and left the room. The staircase leading to the room below creaked under his steps. At the bottom, the panels opening onto the garden stood wide open, and sunlight filled the space. Glaide, not wanting to make his master wait, passed through with a quick step.

  Kezthrem, who had set aside his bokken, was seated at a table, facing the young man. The table was placed near an opening in the wall of trees – one that Glaide hadn’t noticed before – which opened onto a small path into the forest. Before the man lay a sword in a leather sheath. As the adolescent entered the garden, his master got up. He took the weapon in front of him and moved into the middle of the garden.

  “First, Glaide,” he began, “I would like to see your weapon. I’m intrigued by the fact that, since you’ve come from another world, you were not able to forge it yourself.”

  “Right, the guardian gave it to me,” responded the young man. “Just like he gave Jeremy his. And at the moment, Jeremy is learning Murockai. Actually, it is as if the guardian had known we were destined to study these techniques.”

  “Very strange,” murmured the man.

  Glaide advanced a few steps farther, then drew his sword quickly. He realized that it had been a long time since he’d really looked at this sharp-edged, iron savior. He loved his sword, and he felt as though it was a point of honor that he learned to master it. He held it out to Kezthrem, who did not reach out to take it. He looked at it for a moment, his eyebrows knit together. He drew in turn, and Glaide felt his jaw drop at what he saw: the weapon before him was an exact copy of his own: the same width, the same decorations, the same handle, and the same guard. He shot a questioning look at his master.

  “What does this mean? Where did my sword come from, if it is the same as yours?”

  His companion let out a breath. “This weapon is a family heirloom. Not everyone in my family has been a warrior, but one of our distant ancestors was a famous protector, who lived in the time when Iretane was created. Do you know of that time?”

  “Yes, master. I have been told how a man whose name was forgotten taught that technique.”

  “Right,” Kezthrem said. “In that time, when my ancestor forged his sword, he was astonished by the form that it took on: broad, long, and cumbersome... It was unusual, to say the least. He decided to begin again, but found that he created the exact same weapon. Taking that as a sign, he kept the first weapon as his own, discovering later that he had unconsciously created the perfect blade for a new school: that of Iretane. It is that sword that I carry today in my hands.” He stopped for a moment, giving his disciple time to process, then continued, “As for yours... As you probably have guessed, it is the second one to have come from his forge. He gave it as a gift to a friend who, though he never mastered Iretane, put it to excellent use. When he died, since his descendants were not protectors, his blade became useless. It was entrusted to the village of Rackk. It is probably there that the guardian procured it, along with the weapon he gave to your friend. There are very few protector blades that go unused. You understand their extraordinary capacity, and it is impossible to forge them for commerce. There is no way to know if he chose those two weapons intentionally, and if he chose them knowing who he would give them to.”

  “So, really, it seems to be quite a curious coincidence,” murmured the young man.

  “Whatever the case, now you know where your sword is from. I hope that you will be worthy of it.”

  “I will do my best,” the adolescent said, bowing his head.

  The man sheathed his sword, then made both the blade and the sheath disappear from his hand. Glaide went to do the same, but then realized that this was something he’d never done before. As long as he’d possessed the sword, it had been attached at his side. Whenever he had moved to make it disappear then reappear, he had always found it again attached to his belt, sheathed. He thought back to the chase he and his friends had experienced from the back of the hay cart, as they were on their way to Shinozuka. Emily had suggested that they throw their swords at the orks that were following them, in the hopes of slowing them down. Then, the boys had made the swords reappear in their sheaths, then drew them and threw them again and again.

  The plan had worked well, but thinking back on it, Glaide had to admit that they had always been forced to draw again, throw their weapon, and draw yet again. They had never, not even once, made their swords appear directly in their hands, and today, if he made his sword disappear while he wasn’t wearing the belt, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to make the sword reappear in his hand. Instead, he decided to simple sheath the sword, then carry the sheath as he followed his master, who had already gone into the building before him.

  As Glaide entered the room they had conversed in the night before, the man was opening the wall panels to the left. The evening before, when the young man had arrived, they had been closed completely. This morning, they had remained closed as always, and the young man had wondered to himself what they could be concealing.

  He entered the new room and was astonished by what he saw. Before him was a full training room. A few grappling dummies were visible in the
back of the room. The wooden planks of the floor were a cream color, and the room had high ceilings. The room was spacious. To the right, the young man noticed the sliding panels that acted as a second front entrance to the structure; he had noticed them the night before, just before he’d knocked at the door. They opened towards the bottom of the hill, but Kezthrem had not deemed it necessary to open them today. However, he did open the walls to the back of the house, which opened into the garden. The fresh air flooded in, freshening the room up. Glaide moved into the middle of the room, then looked around himself. “This is where I’ll be spending most of my time,” he thought to himself.

  “We won’t be using your sword today,” declared the man. “You can set it with the other weapons, behind you.”

  Glaide turned around and noticed a recess in the wall, off to the left. He approached and discovered it contained a veritable armory. The shelves and racks were filled with wooden sabers, lances, staffs, shields made of metal, and others that looked more like the lids of barrels. A collection of different knives shared a display rack with large bows, along with arrows fletched in different ways, with a variety of different arrow heads. A suit of samurai armor was displayed in the back. The red suit of armor appeared to be in excellent shape.

  The young man paused for a moment to look at everything in front of him, a blissful smile on his face. Perhaps, sooner or later, he would get to use all of these weapons. He hoped so, at any rate! He forced himself back to reality, then carefully leaned his sword against the wall. He returned to the center of the room, taking position in front of his master. His master, who had been smiling a few minutes earlier, had now taken on a stern look. He appeared to be about to say something very important, and so the young man listened carefully.