by Lloyd Baron
“Concentrate, Danlynn,” Tak’arshi says his voice deep yet still void of emotion. “Riochald. Do as I showed you yesterday. I believe Danlynn will do better if he can see how to construct the summons.”
Riochald nods her head at something Danlynn could not hear, and she begins.
She clenches her fist around the bead and a slight yellow glow envelops her hand. She closes her eyes and focuses her mind on the task. As Danlynn watches a shape begins to appear in the air in front of her.
“She cannot hear me now,” Tak’arshi’s voice says. “Watch as the construct grows and twists. See how the lines all move as one from the centre out to form a cross which will now bend into a square.” As he talks directly into Danlynn’s mind the pattern throbs and pulsates suddenly larger. The ends of the cross bend backwards and feed back into the centre.
“Riochald,” Tak’arshi shouts, but she does not seem to hear him. “You are feeding it the wrong way. You will burn it out!”
The shape alters and grows larger still. It is now a mass of yellow lines tangling around each other, tying into a knot. Riochald opens her eyes and a look of horror enters them.
“I am still holding you, so do not...” Tak’arshi’s voice trails off and when he speaks next Danlynn imagines that he is panicked.
“Danlynn, Riochald has shut me out. She is frightened and has put up a wall that I cannot break through. The pattern she is holding is very dangerous. I can do nothing to help you in the Mana Fold. You must stop it.”
“How?” he screams. “I can’t even hold a simple cross. Give me my bow!”
“Have faith in yourself. Think of something that you enjoy and use it to guide you in your work.”
“Something I enjoy? Something I enjoy?” He has a sudden thought which brings a smile to his face. He closes his eyes and tries to form the cross. He opens them and there it is, burning bright blue. “I did it!” he yells.
“Good. Now place it within Riochald’s construct and begin to open it out into a square.”
“Right.” He grips the small blue stone hard and pushes his will into the shape. It feels like an icy spider web, cold and fragile. It moves in jagged jolts at first but he manages to get a better hold on it and it slows into a smooth decent. It enters Riochald’s mass of power and he feels her energy pouring into it.
“Open it.”
He clenches his eyes closed and concentrates on one strand at a time. He moves them slowly and carefully so that they do not feed back into themselves. When he has the square finished he opens his eyes and finds that his power has become a cube shape, housing Riochald’s failed construct.
“Drain the power from her lines. Do this by letting your lines overlay with hers. She might feel slight pain, but do not worry. It will only be a mild headache.”
Taking hold of one of the strands he tugs it with his mind so that it fits over the top of Riochald’s. She frowns and lifts a hand to her head but does not seem too hurt by his action. He moves the next piece and then the next, until her yellow construct is completely blue.
“Now, think of fire burning deep within you. There are three fire attacks you can use. They are ‘flame strike,’ ‘immolate,’ and ‘soul burn.’ ‘Flame strike’ uses a small amount of power, so once you feel the burning inside call out its name and let the construct go.” The voice fades but then adds calmly. “Face away from Riochald.”
Danlynn takes a deep breath and turns his back on his work. This will not be easy. It was hard enough to make the pattern in the first place, yet alone do his first summoning without looking at it. He lets out the breath and focuses all his thoughts on a candle flame, flickering in the darkness of the Mana Fold.
He thrusts out his hands and yells, “Immolate!”
“No!” Tak’arshi yells but it is too late. From Danlynn’s outstretched arms a huge ball of fire erupts. He thought it would move away from him and vanish into the darkness but it just grows bigger and bigger in front of him. He tries to stop the power but it just feeds more in. He glances over his shoulder and sees the construct shrinking but it is still quite large.
“I can’t stop it!” he screams in a panic.
“Do not worry. Once it has fed on the construct it will engulf everything in the Mana Fold. This is a dangerous spell and one you should not be doing now. I will try to get Riochald out of there. Just hold it.”
The calmness of the Dark Clan’s voice cuts through him and he wishes the man could shout at him and tell him he is useless. He looks back over his shoulder and sees Riochald fade away into a memory at the instant the construct breaks.
Fire kindles everywhere. He feels the burning heat on his skin yet it does not reach him. He opens his eyes and gapes at the beauty of the burning beast. It ripples and swirls like the surface of a lake on a windy day. At the same time it commands and destroys. He stares at it in awe for a moment and then it is gone.
He opens his eyes to find himself sitting on the floor in the training room. Riochald grins down at him.
“Well done! Tak’arshi said you could do it if you thought I was in trouble.” She looks over at the Dark Clan, who nods his head.
“You tricked me?” he says in shock.
“It was needed.” is all Tak’arshi says.
“What did you think of to cast the summons? What is it that makes you so happy that you could do such a powerful spell?” Riochald folds her arms under her breasts in the way she used to before letting her temper flare.
Danlynn looks up at her and grins. What’s the worst that can happen if he tells the truth? She will hit him. He has been hit before and it was not so bad. “Pretty girls dancing with me and kissing with me.”
Riochald roars into laughter and has to brace herself on her knees to remain standing. Danlynn smiles with the shock of it before joining her in the mirth.
Tak’arshi lets them enjoy themselves with his normal uninterested expression for a few minutes before kneeling down before Danlynn. The two fall silent and Riochald inflates her chest with pride.
“Welcome, Summoner Lisle. You are awakened.”
“Thank you,” Danlynn says trying to remember the rest of what he is meant to say. When he looks up he sees that the hall is full of Dark Clan. He was not told this would happen. His mouth goes dry and he stutters. Riochald’s hand grasps his shoulder and he glances at her smiling face and she winks at him. She winks. With a deep breath he begins. “I dedicate my life to the peace of Atlantia. I am awake for the first time and I will never sleep again. The light of the world, the light of hope, and the wings of light upon my back.” Riochald intones the same verse once he is finished and Tak’arshi steps between them.
“You have great gifts. The law of the world states that you must be housed within one of the six guilds as mages. However, the question has been raised that as you are not Mages but Summoners returned, those laws do not apply.” He glances briefly at Danlynn and smiles. The smile is flat and if he thinks it is comforting then he is mistaken. “We will not send you to a guild but welcome you to join us here as part of our clan. You will have the freedom to come and go as you please.”
This part had been briefly covered before he entered the hall. Had he known he would be surrounded by Dark Clan he would not have agreed to it. He can feel the weight of all those hollow eyes boring into him. “I will become Dark Clan,” he calls and is proud that his voice does not quiver. Riochald follows him but sounds hesitant. Danlynn grins.
One of the Dark Clan stands and walks towards them. He is older than Tak’arshi but still short of his middle suns. “You will now choose a clan to enter.” He motions to the gathering Dark Clan and eight of them move forwards, each dressed in black robes but with a different colored pattern embroidered down the sleeves.
“Will you join the Ocen’rit Clan. We bring peace through nurturing the earth,” the first Dark Clan says as he removes a blue ribbon from his robe and kneels.
“Will you join the Whisp’sept Clan,” the next one says removing a ye
llow ribbon from his robe. “We bring peace through the teaching of music.” He also kneels.
One by one the others step forward and intone their clan name and what they represent. Groun’dev is the brown clan that build and create; Gro’el the green clan that seek knowledge of plants and of the world; Ight’vin the orange clan that study weather; Gray’nov the purple that teach earthly weapons; Shi’el the whites that are called the protectors; Dar’melent the black, teachers of the old ways; and Bur’est the red clan and seekers of magic and mages—all this was intoned by Tak’arshi.
Once they have all knelt it is up to Danlynn and Riochald to stand in front of who they want to be blessed by. In his mind it does not matter. This is only so that they will be able to leave once the training is over. Tak’arshi had told them that much an hour before this ordeal. However, he had also warned not to pick the black or the browns as they would want them to stay within the city.
Riochald takes a deep breath beside him and steps forwards towards the Dark Clan with the white ribbon. “I cannot shield myself but I will serve to shield others from harm. When the day comes for us to fight I will be a protector in white.” She bows her head and the man ties the ribbon into her hair. That is not custom, but then again they have never done this for a woman. When Riochald straightens she has a mixture of pride and anger painted on her face. She had not expected it to go into her hair either.
Danlynn looks down the line of kneeling men and does not know what to do. He had been told all the speeches he must make for whatever clan he chooses but it was difficult to remember. In fact he can only remember the words for two of the clans. The yellows and the reds. He glances at Tak’arshi and then at the Dark Clan for the yellow. He could not play an instrument and his singing voice is not up to much. But he knew that the reds were also known as the War Clan. It is all pretend, he tells himself and steps in front of Tak’arshi. “I may not be able to summon without my bow and arrows, well not here anyway,” Riochald clears her throat and he hurries on, “When the day comes for us to fight I will bellow the charge while dressed in red.” He cringes as he bows his head and Tak’arshi places the ribbon around his neck; he had mixed the speech for yellows and reds together but if anyone shows disapproval no-one comments on it.
“It is done,” the middle aged Dark Clan says. “Shi’el and Bur’est you will be called. When it is time for us to fight we will go with the light.” He bows once more before sweeping away with the other Dark Clan.
Tak’arshi glances once at Danlynn and for an instant he looks annoyed.
Derry’n looks down at the ridiculous outfit he has been dressed in and groans for the hundredth time. He had been told that for his training he would need to be comfortable in his movements. Tak’arshi had suggested that he should be without any garments at all, yet Derry’n had refused. Naked, by the light of the Goddess, but these Dark Clan have no shame. So this unusual set of garments were found for him to wear. Loose trousers tied at the waist by a cord and a baggy tunic. The material is silky and shimmers with each movement, drawing further attention to the fact that it is multicolored and rather revealing. He had not been allowed to wear underclothes as they would restrict his movements, and that would not do. Light! So each time he moves he is well aware that the world can see the exact size and shape of his manhood.
He has adjusted it as he has all his clothes recently by ripping off the sleeves so that his arms are bare from the shoulder and he decided that morning to replace the cord around his waist with the large square of material the Queen had given him, it hangs down his front between his legs covering his modesty.
The man who is to be his teacher steps up to him and with a broad smile offers his hand. “I am Finhill, and as you can guess I am not a Dark Clan. I am from the sands of the desert of Flambour and I am here to train the dark ones how to use Gye. Ah, you are Marinish”
“I beg your pardon. Marinish?”
Finhill smiles a wide smile that almost splits his face in two and tugs at the tunic he wears. “This is Marinish garb and you look very like one yourself. But you do not seem to know what I am talking about.”
Derry’n frowns. It is possible that he could be Marinish, he never knew his birth parents and the Pyrena’s had not known where they were from. Marinish. “I have heard that before.” His mind flicks back to him sitting within the strange camp of Uelist and Buddy. He had called him Marinish. “Where do they hail from?”
Finhill shakes his head as if he does not believe someone could not know of the Marinish, and with another wide smile grasps Derry’n by the shoulder. “They are the pirates of the Geluid Archipelago, son. Now let us not talk of those matters anymore. You are clearly not one of them or else I might have had my throat slit.” He chuckles to himself and begins stripping off until he only wears his small cloths.
Pirates, oh bloody wonderful! I can’t be the son of a pirate. Can I? He shakes the thought from his mind. He had decided many suns ago that he would not find out who his birth family were. The Pyrena’s were his family, and they were all he needed. He glances at Finhill as he stretches his legs up behind his back to loosen the muscles and frowns again. He is going to get lines on his face from all the frowning he has been doing latterly. He had not known that other outsiders were here within the city. It has been almost a week and he has not seen anyone but Dark Clan, not even his friends. Tak’arshi brought news each day of their progress. That is his favorite part of the day. So far Tarfleam is achieving the best results from his training though he has the weakest and easiest skill to learn, or so Tak’arshi said. Riochald and Danlynn have both now mastered the basics of summoning but still need a lot more training before they could use the skills in battle. He had mentioned that they were now Dark Clan, which at first had shocked Derry’n to his core, but once it had been explained that this was just so they could leave the city without being ushered into a mage guild, he had relaxed slightly. Only very slightly. Riochald as a Dark Clan: he had shivered at that thought. Darwin’t has been learning about his dreaming and they had discovered something else in him also: a holy power the purpose of which they are still unsure, though it seems harmless. Light; but everything he is told is as if it is everyday news and not some massive change to their lives. The Dark Clan just did not understand that.
Canace however is not doing so well. News of her always fills Derry’n with guilt and sadness. He has no real reason to feel such emotions but he somehow feels that he has let her down. His love for the strange and beautiful man he met at the ball has clouded his love for her. He knows that she was never aware of his feelings, but he has had to live with them for many suns. Now he finds that he does not love her in the way he thought and cannot shift the smell and touch of Sabastian. He has realized that he has again become distant from his companions and that they no longer talk or even look at him. Except for Tarfleam, who has been an odd source of comfort. He is the only one who knows his secret and has sworn not to tell the others. He had said it was Derry’n’s choice to make and he would not do anything to cause him sorrow. He had even added that when he saw them talking at the ball he thought they looked right together, somehow completing Derry’n as a man. That was before they had reached Galvalou, of course, and he has not seen any of them since.
It seems Canace has a great power which none of the Dark Clan can work out. Even the High Darkest had come down from his tower to examine the girl. The only news of her skill is that it seems to be based in the light, thus making it hard for the Dark Clan to open. The Angels may have better luck with her. She now sits in her room for most of the day. Derry’n had felt sad about this, knowing how Canace hates to be kept in her room, but Tak’arshi had informed him that she is being taught how to play the flute and has been getting visits from the children. Canace loves children. She would be proud and honored to be given the chance to make these poor dying kids happy before the end.
“Son, are you listening?” Finhill asks with a dark frown. “I said jump for me and let me se
e how you do it.”
Derry’n takes a deep breath and does as he is told. He has been doing this for a few days and has already picked up the basics. He can walk on the air with ease but only a step above the ground, any higher and he falls.
His feet leave the ground and he kicks his feet out, forcing the power of wind he holds within him to his toes. The air below his feet seems to become solid and he stops falling an inch from the stone floor.
“Huh,” is all Finhill says.
“I cannot seem to get higher. I have tried many times.”
Finhill waves the remark away and steps to the side of the room, motioning Derry’n to follow. They sit down upon the floor and rest their heads back against the wall.
“Have they told you why you can do this?”
Derry’n shakes his head.
“Huh, didn’t think so.” He smiles and turns his head to look at Derry’n. “Gye is a power that Mages can do if they hold the power of wind inside them. Gye means ‘float’ in the old tongue. It cannot be used all the time. Did they at least tell you that?”
“No, they did not really explain anything about why—they just tried to get me to do.”
“Well that sounds like them. If it’s not a real magic they do not seem to care.” He barks a throaty laugh. “Not that they can care about anything. Right boy, listen carefully. Wind is not a power that can be used in the real world by anyone but the Dark Clan, the Angels—not that they would—and the wizards of the old world. Some Elemental powers such as fire and water can be controlled by those strong in the art, though nothing compared to what a Summoner could do if they still existed.
