Wings of Light Special Edition

by Lloyd Baron

  He is a lonely young man. He has never had any friends of his own. He used to hang around with other people’s friends until they got fed up with his slow speech or just decided to make fun of him being an outsider. Apart from his family, Canace is the only person who had treated him like he belonged. They had once spent an entire afternoon together and she had made him laugh so hard.

  That was the day he fell in love with her. Since then he has tried to tell her how he feels with little success. He was given the choice to stay and be bonded or go looking for his birthplace. He was going to ask Canace to be his bonded and stay with her forever in Gressgs, build a grand house bigger than any other in the village and have a huge family. Their children would be lovely. Any daughters would be stunningly beautiful like their mother and his sons would be manly like him, but hopefully they too would take their looks from Canace.

  Darwin’t had asked her first.

  He had asked Kloek to go with Canace to keep her company. The cat had spoken to him once but is silent now. He is glad to be alone for a while. He needs time to think.

  He closes the door with a sigh and walks into the room. It is large but empty with only a bed, desk and mirror. The bed has a dark green quilt and stands out against the white walls and black floor. He walks past the bed and into an alcove in the corner. He spies a handle on the wall which he turns a few times. Air blows softly across his face and he looks up to a hole in the wall. He turns the handle again and feels the air once more.

  “So it’s a pump then,” he says in his slow deep voice. He looks down at the kettle and knows what he is standing within. He hurries out of his clothes and steps back into the arch. He carefully pours the hot water onto the floor and begins tuning the handle. He is delighted by the result. The water gushes over his nakedness and takes all of his worries with it. He lets go of the handle and the water continues to flow. He smiles to himself. It is as he thought. There must be pressure keeping the water moving. The time it takes from pumping it from the floor to the hole is longer than it should have been. He would guess that there is more behind the wall then just a single pipe.

  After he has washed himself he steps out of what he calls a shower, named after the rain which starts and stops suddenly, and walks over to the bed. He glimpses himself in the lager stand mirror and stops to study what he sees. He hates the way he looks. His shoulders are wide and over-muscled, making his neck look short. His huge chest is also oversized and unattractive, covered in a layer of thick brown hair. His face is also wrong. Big eyes, big lips, wide nose, square jaw and those bushy eyebrows all add up to make him look simple.

  His eyes drift down his form to his manhood and he smiles. At least one part of him is oversized in a good way. Once he had walked in on Danlynn bathing. It had been an awkward moment that both of them had agreed to never talk about. It was the look on Danlynn’s face when Derry’n had walked into the room naked. Both men had just stared at each other for a few seconds before reacting. Danlynn had yelled to grab a towel which both men had, but not before seeing each other’s nakedness. Derry’n had never thought about the size of his manhood before. He always thought that every Man’s would be the same. Maybe Danlynn had the same thought.

  A week after the event Danlynn had approached him outside the shop and had asked to go for a walk. He asked what Derry’n did to have so many muscles. Derry’n explained that it was the work he did lifting and carrying. The next question had made both of them feel embarrassed and Danlynn had never gotten his answer. He had asked if Derry’n had ever been with a girl. In his embarrassment he began to tumble words out of his mouth one after the other. Derry’n had realized then that Danlynn thought himself inferior in this one way. From what Derry’n had seen the other man had nothing to worry about. His manhood was not small and his body was not thin and bony like Darwin’t’s, but still Danlynn felt less of a man.

  This was the first time in his life that anyone had felt below him. He would have proffered it was his intellect that Danlynn felt below, but he would take anything as long as he felt the way he did that moment. He told Danlynn not to worry, that he was very manly and handsome and that he would please the women with his loins. Danlynn had given him a funny look then and muttered never to mention any of this to anyone.

  Canace would like his body. She was small and could rest her head on his chest and doze under a tree with him. He would stroke her hair, they would kiss and he would make love to her. He has to stop thinking thoughts like that. Canace is not his to think about. He looks back up at his face and swallows as a tear slips from his eye. She will never love him. She loves Darwin’t.

  The door opens and a girl strides into the room. She stops and gasps at the sight of him and he rushes over to the bed and grabs the quilt to hide behind. She smiles dangerously at him as she lowers the bundle of clothes onto the bed.

  “You can get dressed now sir,” she says as she steps out of the room, glancing back one last time.

  “Thank you,” he calls as the door closes. He sighs angrily at his impoliteness and hurries over to the dark green garments to dress before anyone else can walk in on him. The clothes are in the southern style and are ill fitting. The breaches are tight across his bottom and he bulges at the front. The shirt pulls across his chest and the jacket restricts his movement and shows off his thick arms. He grumbles as he drops down onto the stool to write out a new name for himself.

  He thinks of a sensible name, a man who he had once met and liked had a nice name he would not mind being called. He writes it down on the parchment and gets up. He removes the jacket and sits down on the bed. He picks up the cloth the Queen had given him and ties it around his head in the way Kloek had instructed him. It matches the clothes perfectly. Then gets up and strolls over to the mirror.

  He unbuttons the shirt and slips it off over his head. He holds it up in front of him. If he is to become a new man then he will not follow old fashion. He grabs the sleeves and pulls on them hard. Both rip off at the shoulder. He smiles at his adjustment and turns his attention to the jacket.

  “You’re next,” he mutters with a smile.

  He slips the shirt back on and flexes his huge arms. Without the sleeves he is free to move. For the first time in his life he thinks he looks handsome. Canace would think so he is sure.

  At the thought of her an image builds in his mind of her dancing around and undressing at the same time. He has thought about her undressing for him before but this seems more real. Then he notices she stands in the same room he is in, apart from the quilt is white. He smiles at his imagining of her but at the same instant feels ashamed that he is thinking of her that way. He tries to stop but then she slips her dress over her shoulders and reveals her nakedness. She begins to turn to face him then, but the image blurs.

  “Derry’n, stop it!” The voice of Kloek snaps at him. “It hurts my eyes. Get out of my head. This is not the right time to be trying out a new talent.”

  Derry’n squeezes his eyes shut and drops to his knees. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he pleads over and over.

  “No need to apologize to me, young man. You were not to know she was undressing but it is amazing what you have just done. I did not even know you could do this.” The cat chuckles, but Derry’n has stopped listening to him.

  Derry’n does not reply. He has found a new gift within himself. He can see through the eyes of his cat and should be excited but he feels so ashamed.

  He opens his eyes and sees his reflection staring back at him.

  “I’m so sorry, Canace. I am so... so sorry.” He crumples to the floor and begins to weep.

  Riochald closes the door and instantly regrets not insisting that Canace and her share a room. She pulls the door open and charges into the hall. The door swings shut behind her. She moves up the long hallway to the next door and pushes it open. The room is dark with black walls and floor. The shutters on the windows are closed so the only light comes from the hall.

  She thinks about
calling out, but it is obvious that the room has been empty for a long time so she closes the door and moves on. She tries the next two doors but both are locked. The third opens, and Tarfleam jumps up from the bed. He looks at her with a terrified expression which angers her and humbles her at the same time.

  “Sorry,” she says in a weak voice and hates herself for it. She pulls the door closed and moves on to the next room. This time she knocks.

  Canace opens the door and beams a smile at her friend.

  “What took you so long?” She says with that cheeky grin she has always had.

  “What took me!” she repeats angrily. “The fact that everyone else is in a row and they put you and Tarfleam all the way down the hall. Why have they done this?”

  Canace moves aside and lets Riochald pass. The room could be the same one as hers. The bed, desk and mirror are the same and in the identical positions. Apart from Canace has a white quilt on her bed while hers is black. She glances around yet sees nothing out of place, so she settles on the bed beside the relaxing cat.

  “Things are so strange,” she says smoothing down the quilt beside her. “Only a month ago we were planning your bonding. I was frightened about going to the shrine, but you said I would be alright if I focused on protecting you.”

  Canace does not respond for a few seconds. When she does it is not with what Riochald is expecting her to say. “Is that why you’re here? You’re still protecting me?”

  “No,” she says firmly. “And would you please not butcher your speech. Say you are not you’re.”

  Canace laughs as she sits down beside her friend. “Shut up, Riochald! I have been thinking. If I’m to be your maid in all this then I should speak as a lower and you as a teacher. A lower would not speak in this way, so from now on, no correcting me.”

  Riochald feels something inside her clamp tight. She is losing her grip on her friend and she feels frightened by the prospect. She has always been in control of herself and everything and everyone around her. The last few weeks have been the worst weeks of her life, even worse than her own trip to the shrine and her rejection from all the men there.

  “I feel helpless,” she says at last.

  “You don’t need to. We all feel the same way. Don’t feel like you have to be the leader of us. We are all in this together. Please don’t keep your feelings hidden. You know what happened the last time.”

  Riochald stands and casts a bitter glance at her friend. “I should return to my room. They are bringing clothes.”

  As she speaks the door opens and two maids walk in. One carries a plain white dress and the other a richly embroidered black gown. Riochald catches her breath at the sight of the beautiful garment. She reaches out and touches the material. It has a soft light smooth texture and shimmers in the sunlight.

  “These are for the feast tonight,” the older maid says. “You are permitted to keep them and your clothes for the morning will be brought to you tonight.”

  “Thank you,” she says as she takes the gown from the maid. The white dress is handed to Canace and both woman exit the room.

  “Your dress is so beautiful,” Canace says with a sad tone.

  Riochald glances at the simple dress that her friend is holding and her heart sinks. She then remembers her bags and the white dress she had stuffed into one of them.

  “I have your dress, the one for the bonding. I put it into my bags before I left my house all those weeks ago. I’ll go and get it.”

  Both of them jump to their feet. Canace begins to dance about as Riochald rushes out of the room and down the hall. She miscounts the doors and barges in on Derry’n. He has his back to her and is wearing tight green breaches with a sleeveless white shirt. She sees from his reflection that his eyes are closed and he seems to be thinking. She slowly backs out of the room, but not before having one last look at his wonderful form. If only Derry’n knew how attractive he is. She has a pang of sorrow for the man. He is by far the best looking man she has ever laid her eyes upon and he is kind and sweet natured on top of it. She would be lucky to have a man like him. She would be lucky to have any man.

  She has to admit though that the man from downstairs, Fia Sharphorn is extremely attractive. She likes men with well-built bodies, but not his rude demeanor; although something about him seems familiar. She pushes into her room and stops at the sight of the parchment resting on the desk. She grabs the pen and writes the first name which comes into her head before running to her bags.

  She pulls the dress out and groans at how creased it has become. Maybe there is some way of pressing them out before tonight. At the thought her hands begin to feel hot and steam explodes out of the garment. She shrieks and drops it to the floor.

  She stares at her hands, but they look normal and no longer feel hot. She bends down and picks up the gown. She smiles in wonderment at the now smooth material.

  Canace will be pleased.

  Tarfleam rests his eyes. Riochald had charged into his room moments before and his heart still thunders under his ribs.

  He breathes slowly to calm himself. What a few weeks it has been! He has been permanently frightened and withdrawn from the world around him. Every now and then he resurfaced and thought that he would be alright, yet something always happened to drag him back into the safety of his mind.

  They will be safe from now on. He is in a palace full of guards and Mages, not to mention that his companions are able use magic. Not that they know how much they use. They forget that he is there most of the time and act like they would if they were alone. Twice he has seen Derry’n float into the air while trying to see into the distance or look along the road for travelers. Derry’n is unaware that he had left the ground, but Tarfleam had seen it.

  Darwin’t’s dreams the first few nights after they were split from the others made colors in the air around his head. Once he had tried to wake the man during a nightmare only to find that he was drawn into the dream. He saw what Darwin’t saw, and it terrified him to his soul.

  Riochald’s power that had healed him had come as a shock because he had not seen her do anything before. Unlike Danlynn, who had on four occasions created a cold air and once in the cells made it so cold that Derry’n froze.

  It seemed that Canace and he are the only two normal ones in the group although he would guess that she has something hidden inside her.

  He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, feeling it settle back on his cheeks cold and icy. He snaps his eyes open and finds that he is no longer in the palace room. He is instead in a damp cold cave. He sits upright and runs a shaky hand through his mousy brown hair.

  “Not again,” he whispers to himself. For twelve nights in a row, following the incident where he touched Darwin’t and entered his dream, he had come to this cave in his sleep. It had stopped after that, yet he still felt the cold each night. He thought it was because they were sleeping under the stars and then they were in the cells. Now he knows that was wrong.

  “Sorry to bring you here.”

  Tarfleam screams and spins to face the female voice. He loses his footing and tumbles to the rocky ground. The skin on his shoulder splits and blood sprays out. He grips the wound to staunch the flow. He looks up at the woman as she approaches, her hand held out to help him up.

  She is beautiful. Long wavy blond hair cascades over her narrow shoulders and frames her pale blue eyes with golden brilliance. Set within her hair are moonstones and they sparkle like her eyes. She has a small mouth which is smiling and dimples in her cheeks. Her nose is petite and wrinkled with her delight at seeing him. She wears a long red gown embroidered with gold vines around the hem.

  He takes her hand and she pulls him to his feet.

  “I am so very sorry to have frightened you so,” she says still smiling at him. “I thought you heard me coming up behind you.”

  Tarfleam takes a step away and stays silent. His heart races painfully and his breathing is becoming ragged. He feels his mind reaching out to comfort him but
the woman steps close and snaps his thoughts to her.

  “Tarfleam, do not be afraid of me. I am here to help you and to bestow upon you great powers.” She steps past him and continues to talk to him but no longer looks in his direction. “Why should they have the glory and the riches that will come with it? Are you not as much a part of all this as they are? Did you not stop the dragon single handed with the stone and pay the price for it? Did they thank you for it? You saved them all!”

  She rounds on him and points a finger accusingly at his chest. “But why should I help you? I have been calling for you since I first felt your touch upon me, but have you responded to my kindness? You run and hide within that tatty mind of yours and ignore my offers to you.” She stares at him with a fierce set to her features. She no longer looks beautiful. She looks demented and evil. “Well!” she screams, shaking the moonstones from her hair.

  Tarfleam staggers backwards and begins to sob. “Who... who are you?” He manages to stutter though his fear.

  “For the love of the Creator, are you simple boy? I am Sahwin Nu’Veli.” She stares at him, waiting to see if her name has struck more fear into his heart. When he just stares back at her with his blank expression her anger bubbles over. She uses her will to lift him from the ground and drag him through the air towards her.

  “Stop it,” he pleads through new sobs.

  “You need to do a little job for me Tarfleam. It won’t hurt your friends. I would not dare. I need them as much as the world does.” She stops him an inch from her face. It makes her happy and excited to be torturing someone again. It has been too many suns. “All you have to do is keep an eye on them. Can you do that for me?”

  Tarfleam nods his head, tears streaming down his face, sobs shaking his entire form.

  “Good. I’ll leave you with a little reminder of your word.” The power holding him stops and he crashes to the floor. “Oh,” she says as she turns away from him and begins to walk away into the darkness of the cave. “If you see the old wizard Razzork again, just say the words, “DynaDriaDamicla.” It’ll give him pause for thought.”