As the day ended and early night settled in, Vilmos and Xith set up camp in the safety of a clearing within a small woodland oasis. The rather large stand, an oddity this far south, was a hearty growth of fine northern fir, the clipped boughs of which served as an excellent mattress upon which to rest. Lying upon these soft, scented pine boughs, arms crossed and head propped up, tired eyes were allowed a tranquil view, a sedate, star-filled night sky with a gently shining liquid moon.
It was an autumn moon, a moon that was not quite full and loomed low in the sky with the distant, unseen sun casting a cool orange luminescence upon its face. In other times Xith would have called it a blooded moon and the portent would have been one of ominous foreboding, but under the current circumstances it merely moved him into a somber introspective mood.
While he didn’t give the omen much thought, he did not cast it away either. Rather, it hung there in the back of his mind while he floated off to sleep and later invaded his few moments of private dreams.
Vilmos was the first to wake. Wet droplets of morning dew were the first things to greet him. He didn’t want to leave the warmth of his blankets or the soft gentle fir bed to enter the cold uncaring air. A foot, an arm, a leg, slowly probed, and eventually Vilmos slipped from comforts into the cold. As he stood there not moving, adjusting, the only thought in his mind was to find some dry wood. With it, he’d make a fire to take the chill away. After a long gradual coaxing, he set himself to the task.
Xith awoke a short while later to the pleasant crackling sounds of a blazing fire, the warmth of which felt good against his face and hands. He sat up and edged his body closer to the fire, surprised that he hadn’t even felt the energy expenditure Vilmos had used to start the healthy blaze with. Perhaps, Xith thought to himself, the boy was ready for the lesson after all.
“Well good morning,” Xith said.
Vilmos returned the shaman’s warm greeting with one of his own and went in search of the food supplies that had been left in the wagon. He grabbed a little of this and of that, items that appeared most desirable to his sense of smell.
The horses were still loosely tied to a low hanging branch next to the wagon. Thankfully, they had not gotten free. Vilmos stroked one of the mares, which was agitated for some reason, until she calmed, then walked back to the fire and sat across from Xith. He offered the shaman a small portion of the carefully selected prizes he had brought back with him. Then he gingerly picked at the food before him, those selections he had not given away to Xith, hard pressed to decide which to eat first because too many arousing scents arose from the stores Misha had prepared.
Vilmos ate a honey cake first, then nibbled on a bit of spiced beef, salted pork and finally a tiny mincemeat pie. He washed it all down with several long swigs from a water bag filled with a sweet drink that tasted of grapes.
When Xith finished, he stood. “Are you ready?” he asked, patting Vilmos on the shoulder, a subdued deviousness was mixed over with half-warm tones.
“Sure,” said Vilmos. He stood and crossed to the wagon. He started to climb onto the wagon’s running board and stopped abruptly as something hard hit him in the back with a resonant thud.
Vilmos whirled around. “Ouch!”
“You said you were ready.” Xith laughed and threw another rock at Vilmos, forcing him to dodge it.
“But you didn’t say you were going to throw a rock at me!”
“You should always be prepared for the unexpected. This is the next lesson, our second lesson. You have learned well the forces of fire. Now you shall learn those of air…” So saying, Xith hurled two rocks at Vilmos.
The first Vilmos had expected and dodged successfully, but the second hit him in the back of the hand. Angry, frustrated and not understanding the point Xith was trying to make, Vilmos climbed into the wagon.
“Vilmos, will you ever learn,” Xith said. “Here, pick up this rock with your mind.” Xith pointed to the small stone in his hand.
“I can’t, I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do. Midori told me all about your magical pranks. Why do you think I came when I did? I came because I thought you were ready. You have done this before. Think!”
Xith threw the stone at Vilmos. After waiting a moment, he then picked up another and did the same. Vilmos stood, unmoving and unyielding, not knowing what to do.
“Stop the rocks from hitting you! Do it now!” said Xith in a voice that shook Vilmos’ mind and stirred his thoughts, but his response was still, “I can’t. I don’t know how.”
“Think! It is a very simple process if you have already mastered the forces of levitation. Remember, when you were at home and often you circled things around you? How did you do it? Do you remember?”
“Maybe.” Vilmos knew the pranks he had used to drive tutors away, but he didn’t understand how it related to a rock being thrown at him.
“Levitation is the process in which you use the element of air to force an object to float. Remember flying, floating above your valley?”
Vilmos’ thoughts returned for the first time in a long time to his special place, which he had thought lost, and understood. “That is easy, but I don’t—”
“Hush. Listen!” Xith said, slipping again into the compelling voice to grab Vilmos’ attention. “Instead of using a positive force to lift the object, exert the force out as a wall and repel the object away from you. This is the first lesson, it is the easiest way to repel an object from you. The second lesson is a little trickier and requires a great deal more energy. Watch!”
Purposefully sluggish as he overemphasized the strain and the concentration, Xith called the rocks from the ground. One at a time, he slowly lifted the stones and pebbles around them until the air was filled with rocks of all sizes floating through the air. With a summons and a wave of the hand, Xith stirred them to movement as one would a swarm of angry bees. He hurled them through the air, then directed them at himself, where they were reflected harmlessly off an invisible barrier. “Now, do you see?”
“If someone is throwing rocks at you, I guess so.”
An immediate pained expression crossed Xith’s face, it was clear he was upset. One by one the rocks took flight again, yet this time they were volleyed at Vilmos. Several hit him before he collected his thoughts, his hand hurt, his legs hurt, and he was really getting angry.
It took a stone hitting him square in the face, knocking him to the ground, before he decided this was no longer a game. Vilmos had sudden flashbacks to a barren ridge and raging winds. Vilmos stood and brushed the dust and dirt from his clothes. For a moment, he paid no attention to the debris flying around him.
He collected energy into himself, slowly as Xith had taught him, pulling the energies of creation inside. His only problem was that he didn’t know how to properly release it. The energy welled within him until he let it ebb and subside. He cast infuriated eyes upon Xith.
“Continue,” Vilmos said simply, haughtily.
Xith smiled an eager smile and slowed the rate of the barrage to a steady, constant attack with fair interval between each wave. “Push them away, Vilmos.” Again Xith paused and waited for Vilmos to gather his thoughts. A single pebble at a time, started moving again in slow motion.
One stone was propelling its way toward him. Vilmos pushed out with his energy. It wavered and fell to the ground.
“Yes,” Vilmos cried out. He had successfully repelled it. The wall wasn’t in place around him, but it was building. His concentration was building as well and so was his confidence.
“Very good,” said Xith, “try two.”
Two rocks launched at Vilmos at a steady pace. He managed to stop one, but the second one hit him and broke his concentration. He threw his hands up in the air as a sign he wanted to quit. His head ached. He had enough for one day. “Can’t we wait till tomorrow?”
“Try again. You can do it.” The use of Voice made it mandatory.
As always, Xith’s words of praise inspired Vilmos. He knew th
is time he would not fail. Two stones fell away harmlessly, successfully repelled, but he wasn’t prepared for the third that hit him from behind, again on the buttocks.
“Build the wall,” Xith said. “Try again.”
Especially goaded on by Xith’s perky smirk as the last rock had hit him, Vilmos grew angry. He was not going to let Xith or anyone else get the best of him. He stopped one, two, three, four, five and even a sixth stone.
Xith picked up the tempo and changed the directions from which the stones came. Two and three pebbles in groups homed in like beacons on Vilmos from different directions, but again he successfully warded them off.
Sweat dripped off Vilmos’ brow. He was tired but Xith would not stop. The air was filled, a clutter of tiny objects, launched at Vilmos. Vilmos cast Xith a lopsided smile, equal to Xith’s own menacing grimace. He had built his invisible wall and nothing would get through.
“Nothing will get through,” Vilmos whispered to himself. He was nearly exhausted.
Xith did not let up and neither would Vilmos yield though he was past exhaustion and moving toward delirium.
“You waste too much energy, learn to conserve it. Shape your power, use it to your advantage.”
“I can’t do all that at once!” shouted Vilmos, breaking his concentration for an instant.
Xith answered with an increased volley. “Concentrate! Do as you did before. Use part of your consciousness toward the task of building the wall and another to shape it. Try to release the spent energy. From this lesson stems the basis for your magical shield, the shield that will protect and keep you in dangerous times. Now, concentrate!”
A part of Vilmos digested the words Xith had just spoken while the rest of him set to the task of building the repelling wall. It was so much easier to do before when he had not fully realized what the shaman was trying to teach him through the seemingly simplistic lesson of repelling rocks—A magical shield, wow!
Again Vilmos let the wall slip, only for an instant, and was smartly answered with a rock hitting him. The shock cleared his thoughts and jolted his mind into action; again he strove to perform the feat and this time succeeded. He could feel the energy flow within him.
“Control, always stay in control. You must control the energy, don’t let it control you.”
Vilmos had forgotten to exercise control in his momentary lapse. The energy was flowing through him like a tidal wave, flooding his mind. Concentrate, Vilmos thought to himself, I must hold it steady. Gradually, he gripped the energy and regulated it. The power flowed, but did not flood over him.
“Better. Keep it up. Don’t lose sight of your center,” said Xith.
The assault continued minute after exhausting minute for almost an hour. Xith pushed and pushed until he felt Vilmos had reached his limit, then he purposefully pushed him beyond it.
Vilmos learned fast to control the energy flow and maintain the wall. Soon it became facile, requiring less energy, less thought to maintain. He found his center. He knew exactly how much energy he could build and how to shape it. He was in control. He even thought Xith looked pleased.
An idea came to Vilmos, a plan that seemed easy. Devious thoughts spilled over into this plan. He gathered a small reserve in his energy flow, a slight store inside him. The energy caressed him and Vilmos bathed in it. He split his thinking into three parts, one for the wall, one to keep the flow, and one to begin to conserve the energy for his little scheme.
Vilmos’ shield totally fell as he first attempted this feat. Vilmos thought Xith was clearly displeased, but Xith took it as a sign to end the lesson, Vilmos was progressing well.
“No, I want more,” Vilmos demanded.
“I think you’ve had enough for today. You should rest. You have already discovered that from the simple stems the difficult, this is true with all things.”
“Just a little more.”
Xith waved his hand and began the assault.
A reorganization of his thoughts enabled Vilmos to build a reserve slowly. The wall didn’t flicker and he attempted his ploy. Instead of just letting the rocks bounce off his shield, he hurled them away. It took great concentration to keep up all three, the flow, the wall, the casting away, but he managed and now maintained the energy flow, the shield and was successfully repelling the stones.
Xith didn’t appear to notice the subtle change and Vilmos was pleased. At first, he could repel only one rock at a time in a given direction, but later with practice he achieved two and then three. He settled there, while he adapted to the strain and soon this too became easy.
Vilmos stared at Xith with a wide grin that Xith didn’t even pay attention to. He was certain Xith didn’t know what he was up to. He continued until he could deflect an entire barrage at one time and then he went back to throwing them in a few select directions. Although difficult at first, Vilmos succeeded and abruptly he was passing the rocks Xith’s way.
Xith was taken completely by surprise. He hadn’t even expected such a twist. He was pleased as he allowed the first rock to hit him, very pleased.
“There is hope for you yet. That is a very difficult feat to attempt when just starting,” Xith said. He lashed out with his magic and lay to rest all movement around him. “Enough for today. You need to rest. The lesson is ended.”
Vilmos was beaming—he had done it. He had surprised the shaman, if only once. Xith fixed Vilmos with a long hard stare, and, without a word, began to harness the horses.
Vilmos climbed onto the wagon’s running board, then moved to the seat. He watched as Xith finished harnessing the horses.
“Can I take the reins?” Vilmos asked as Xith climbed into the seat beside him. Xith handed him the leathers. The animals lurched forward under unskilled hands.
“I’m sorry, shaman!” said Vilmos turning to Xith.
“No apology is necessary. You performed excellently.”
“Not well, not good, but excellently?” Vilmos’ voice crackled in the middle of the last word.
“Yes, you really have! You have learned a great deal more today than I had expected. I had hoped… but then you did. You have learned one of the hardest lessons there is to teach—”
“I did?”
Wordlessly, Xith took the reins from Vilmos’ hands. “Yes, you have. You have learned to control your energy while your mind is occupied with other tasks, but most importantly you have learned to assimilate your thinking. By grouping the way you think into sections. That is a very great deed in itself.
“It may sound easy, but under duress it is often the hardest thing ever imagined to try. The more you can do at one time the better you will be. If eventually you can do many things without even thinking about them, you will truly be one to be respected.
“You will find the talent very useful. Now maybe you are ready to learn how to control and channel your energy while you sleep. But we will save that lesson for another time.”
Xith drove the horses on. For a time the grasslands seemed to spread endlessly before them, then rolling hills returned. As they reached the summit of the last in a long string of green-covered hills, Xith reined in the horses.
“There,” Xith said. He reached out with his hand and pointed. “The great sea, West Deep…”
For a few long minutes they sat quietly and stared down at deep blue waters, then Xith coaxed the horses into slow gait. He steered them to a course parallel to the great sea, before whipping at the reins with heavy hands. As he did this, he nervously glanced skyward. The sun was hours past midday.
Chapter Five:
Refusal
Her arms were shaking, weak. Still, she reached out for him and touched him.
A second time you pulled me from the sea, Galan said. She strained to move again, to give Seth back his robe that now covered her. “What have you done? You must also survive, Seth.
Seth stretched the tattered robe back over Galan, and covered her face and hands. I’m no longer sure I want to survive, Galan. Why was I so blind?
> You did not betray your brethren. You could not have known.
But I should have—
—Faith, said Galan. She gripped Seth’s hand. I want to dream, may I see the forest again?
Never let it dwindle, a voice in Seth’s mind repeated, never let it dwindle, faith will shelter you. Had Queen Mother known? Seth wondered. And if she had known, why hadn’t she tried to stop it?
Seth, said Galan. Do not dwell on things that cannot be changed. Maybe Queen Mother did know and her words were her only way of warning you. It is not wise to try to change fate but there are perhaps ways to alter it slightly.
I did not mean to trouble you with open thought. Seth projected the image—the green of a forest against the backdrop of a white-capped mountain, the sky so blue it was almost purple—into her mind’s eye. The idea of such a place’s existence truly did seem a wondrous dream to him now.
Complete Kingdoms and the Elves of the Reaches Page 24
