Prophecy's Quest

by A. S. Hamilton

  Riqu had done all the training and had graduated to the level of mage from apprentice, but his primary training, his principal focus was that of leadership. He was, after all, a direct descendant of the House of Brynn-a-kai and his mother had named him heir. To be a direct descendant of a house, was to be born into the bloodline of the founder of that house. With that was an obligation to continue to fulfil the purpose of that house.

  Of course, he had already passed on all duties of the house to Keysjhon who would pass on the mantle to Brynn, unless they had other children. Considering his heritage, it was fitting that his grandson was a part of The Prophecy. When Sariah spoke of Brynn, without even knowing he was the Saviour, she spoke of a child who was a natural leader.

  But he was not ready...

  Sariah's arm underneath his hand tensed and Riqu refocused. Colnba had used his talent to yank Eirra-ghi out of Brynn's hand again and now followed through with a kick to his shin, bringing Brynn to one knee. Riqu blinked in disbelief, somewhere, while he was lost in thought, Brynn had taken a strike across his chest and another near his right hip. The silver in his hair was practically glowing and the deep-blue eyes were sparking with talented energy. Despite that, he was losing.

  He was not ready... not yet.

  Not until he united with the other in The Prophecy. A soft silver glow brought Riqu's attention to the unconscious form in front of Sariah. A gold-silver aura, similar to the one radiating from Brynn was shining through her gold hair. Just then, Riqu realised her importance... She had been found! That was why Brynn decided to confront Colnba like this, he was sacrificing himself in an attempt to keep the chosen one safe. He had barely reached adolescence and there he was, facing death.

  So many young elvan had been lost to this cursed war. His daughter, Sariah, was only just this turn was considered old enough to start courting. And, if Akileena got that barrier down, both Keysjhon and Sariah would go to Brynn's aid. They were warriors, they could see that Brynn was…

  'He is not ready,' Riqu murmured aloud.

  His soft comment drew a concerned look from Keysjhon, and when Riqu met his son's gaze. Keysjhon immediately understood his father's intentions, just in that one look. Keysjhon grasped Riqu's hand. The rebel leader returned the pressure.

  'Get me through, seda, get me through instead,' Keysjhon pleaded under his breath. 'I am a match for Colnba, you know it, seda.' His son's pale-blue eyes were intense, both with determination and fear for that was Keysjhon's own son out there.

  Riqu considered it for a tenth of a second. If anyone had any hope of overcoming a mage like Colnba with sheer sword-skill alone, it was Keysjhon. Aside, from Sarre, but Sarre was not here... And his grandson still needed his father. There was Sariah and Sentary to consider, too. But they would not be alone, they would still have Keysjhon and Belon. Riqu darted a glance at Sariah, who was also looking at him, but he did not meet his daughter's gaze, just in case she could read him as well as his son could. Finally he gave Keysjhon an answer his son would be able to live with. 'I possess only the skill to shift myself through that barrier, ena-ra,' he told him.

  Keysjhon understood the meaning between the words when Riqu glanced, again, at Sariah and the girl in front of her, to remove the barrier was to expose them both to Colnba.

  'If you must take this risk, I pray Fate does not rob me of you,' Keysjhon murmured.

  'If it comes to that, I will be able to re-join your mother. I will not be alone,' Riqu assured him with a sad smile. Then, Riqu shifted through the planes.

  Colnba felt a slight resistance and knew that his blade had penetrated the Saviour's talented shields. But it was not enough! The young mage was tiring, and struggling to keep ahead, but again, the laceration was not deep. He moved just fast enough, recovered just in time.

  Colnba spun his blade in an arc and closed again, putting as much force as possible into the strike. He felt the jolt as the blades collided and forced the younger elvan to back up a pace. Colnba repeated the move with the same result, but the third time he only feinted. This time, as the Saviour braced for the impact, Colnba kicked at the knee of Brynn's weakened right leg and followed through with a fist to the fresh cut on the same thigh, bringing his opponent to the ground. The younger elvan gasped with shock and looked up. Colnba was not prepared to meet such a gaze, so closely. There was something in it, more than just the exotic dark-blue eyes. It made Colnba hesitate. Instead of following through with a blow to the head with his pommel, he kicked the Saviour's blade out of his hand. It was already close to the ground as Brynn had put out his sword hand to catch himself. The sword spun to the edge of cliff, but did not fall over the side. Even after so little acquaintance, the sword was loyal and resisted being parted from its wielder.

  'Mayhap, they should have had a Ko-renti train you, child, you would be better equipped for such violence.'

  'It was my honour to train under Kassan of House of Ko-renti.'

  Colnba was impressed at how steady the younger elvan kept his voice. Snorting, Colnba replied. 'Of course, a traditionalist. Like your father, she'd never 'sink' to using talent in combat. What a grave lapse in their judgement.'

  Just as Colnba was bringing his pommel down towards the silver-and-black-streaked head, a talented grasp wrenched his sword from his hand. Growling with frustration, Colnba delivered a vicious kick to the Saviour's chest to keep the younger elvan down and swept about to face Riqumorgia.

  In a moment, his blade was back in his grip. Riqumorgia faced him unarmed.

  'I know you will not be convinced you have interpreted your vision incorrectly, Colnba, but Diannra treated you like kin. I treated you like kin. Ever we spoke up for you, ever we defended you despite the injustices attributed to your name.' Riqumorgia shook his head sadly. 'How could you condone her death?'

  'I did not kill Diannra.' Colnba knew the denial was pointless, but he refused to allow himself to feel guilty. He could not afford to, not now.

  'You did not raise the sword, you were not in the room, but you let Keldon into Sal-Cirus.'

  There was no bitterness in his tone, only grief. It made it harder, if Riqumorgia would just hate him, it might make it easier to live with.

  'I had no choice,' Colnba grated, 'I had kin to protect—'

  'So have I,' the torahn's response was sad rather than resentful.

  Colnba was not surprised when he felt Riqumorgia place a barrier around the Saviour. Now that the torahn was past Colnba's barrier, he would be able to use his talent to protect the younger elvan. The talented shields Riqumorgia threw up to meet Colnba's blade were also expected, but Colnba wanted only to drive the torahn physically out of reach of his kin and did not use talent in return.

  'It does not have to be this way, Colnba.'

  'That child,' Colnba said, glancing towards Brynn, who was starting to rise. 'That child causes the death of my kin. Nisari does not deserve to be slaughtered like that. It was House of Brynn-a-kai who betrayed her,' Colnba asserted, his voice heavy with emotion. 'There is more than one way to redeem our nation. I have seen it. Our lands can still achieve peace with Nisari and I leading it.'

  Riqumorgia shook his head. 'I do not believe that he kills her. I have seen the vision, Colnba. Toormeena will tell you, the path you want to follow, the outcome you desire — that will not happen until The Prophecy comes about.'

  Colnba recognised the torahn was trying to distract him, and it was working, slowing the speed of his attack and dampening the force of it. Yet it did not stop him from noticing that the Saviour had summoned his sword. His best chance, now, was to cordon the Saviour off from his talent. He had only done it once before and, even then, it had been a challenging task, but if he could manage it long enough — just a few seconds was all he needed.

  But before Colnba could put his plan into action, the Saviour attacked. Hastily, Colnba used his will to toss Riqumorgia towards the edge of the bridge, but he made sure he did not toss the torahn off it. Yes, Riqumorgia's death would make thin
gs eminently easier, but Riqumorgia spoke truly, he and Diannra had once been seeca — as close as kin. Killing his grandson was not much of an option, but it was the only path upon which Nisari survived. Colnba spun to meet the Saviour's oncoming blade. Forming ice under his opponent's feet, Colnba struck hard. The move was very effective in bringing the Saviour to his knees again.

  It had to be now!

  Finally, he had exhausted the young mage enough to get behind his barriers. In a move very similar to the one Brynn had used on Dematica, Colnba slipped through the Saviour's barriers and formed barriers of his own within the young elvan's planes, cutting him off from his talent. The breach bewildered the Saviour so completely that as Colnba's blade descended towards his prone neck, the young elvan made no move to defend himself.

  This was the moment, the single instant Colnba needed...

  A strong hand gripped Colnba's shoulder and spun him about. It was odd looking down at this version of Riqumorgia. Before he was altered to his present form, the rebel leader had been taller than Colnba and had the same white-pearl hair as Keysjhon. The rebel leader grabbed Colnba's sword arm and pulled, over-balancing the mage and using the momentum to toss him over his shoulder.

  Another warping of the planes indicated that a fourth party was joining them. Colnba realised it was the only other one of his supporters that could planes-shift. How else had Ko-rayen avoided that lightning strike?

  The Ko-renti mage set upon the disabled Saviour from behind. In one forceful lunge, he speared the Saviour through the chest.

  Chapter 11

  Day 20 – Morning

  Sal-Cirus

  'The fighting is over, I wish to speak with Colnba.'

  'It is not safe to do so, yet,' Liacoren kept her tone neutral. It was the only way to deal with Malithorn. He did not react well to impatience, self-importance, or any hint of superiority. Keldon had brought him up to be a strong, confident leader. Being Keldon's only child, Malithorn was also spoiled. His intelligence combined with the authority Keldon had given him from an early age resulted in an arrogant and short-tempered man. That said, Liacoren was devoted to him, for despite his faults, he was Keldon Abbarane's son.

  Keldon Abbarane had saved her.

  Her mother, and Dai-tur-trained mage, had adopted her when she was just a few sennats old after her parents died from an illness that had devastated their village that winter. Being elvan, her mother was an incongruous element in the little village of Menow. But Milu-corena was part anthropologist, part healer, part mage. She travelled extensively, seeking out isolated habitations and taking part in native rituals and cultural ceremonies. She also contributed to each community, helping build wells, construct shelters, and care for the sick. Liacoren had become her daughter and protégé.

  Turns later, following in her mother's footsteps, Liacoren had been staying in a rural village when Keldon's forces camped on the other side of a river. They were ignorant of the village until evening, when the central fire drew the attention of Abbarane scouts. On his own initiative, one of the higher-ranked soldiers decided to raid the village. She had been pinned by one of those soldiers, he'd beaten her, and she had no more strength to fight him off.

  Then Keldon appeared.

  Hauling the soldier off her before he could violate her, Keldon had dragged him outside and executed him.

  Having only just caught up to the camp, Keldon had ridden straight to the village as soon as he heard about the raid. The men who had killed villagers were put to death. Right, there. On just the say so of survivors. It was from that moment that Liacoren worshipped him.

  To say that her devotion was returned was to utter a truth. Keldon had been entranced by her innocence, beauty, and talent. He had wanted her as wife, but Liacoren did not want that life. To become a wife was to be left at home while he was on campaign, undertaking the dull burdens of domestic living. So Liacoren told Keldon she could not bear children, nor tolerate sex. It had been a risk, but one well worth the taking, for it increased Keldon's adoration a-hundred-fold. It took persistent persuasion on her part to become one of his advisors. Eventually, she earned her place as his primary confidant and, thus, she rarely left his side.

  His wife, when she came, was a second-class citizen. There to bear his heir and worry in his absence. Keldon barely knew her for what brief time they were together. When she was assassinated, his grief was genuine, but not the deep, soul-shattering grief of a lost rahn. Still, when the assassin and conspirators were tracked down, they suffered an agonising retribution. From that moment, three-turn-old Malithorn had become her child. Keldon had bristled and thumped tables, but eventually he gave in to her condition to remain with him while caring for his child.

  Liacoren stepped in front Malithorn, placing a hand on each shoulder. She stroked his cheek, 'Have I ever steered you wrong, my kingling?'

  Malithorn frowned, partly sneering at the old term of affection, but did not pull away. 'This is not about advice, mamana,' he retorted irritably. 'That oh-so-well-formulated attack was just turned aside by just over a hundred ill-equipped rebels.'

  'There were close to five hundred in the end,' Liacoren reminded him, exaggerating slightly.

  Malithorn made a dismissive gesture as he stepped back, 'Against my far-greater force. This… this prophecised child the elvan predict will overcome Abbarane rule has managed to outwit almost thirty experienced mages. I want to know, in extremely tedious detail, how he did it. Because, by the sages, mamana, I will crush this so-called saviour beneath the inexorable weight of my military and when I do, I will take no chances of a repeat of this farce.'

  'I agree, a review must be undertaken,' Liacoren said. 'But it is not yet safe. The structure was rendered unsafe by that lightning strike. While the confrontation is at an end, until new shields are placed over the area, rebel mages may exploit the weakness to strike at you.' Liacoren applied a little nudge of will to overcome Malithorn's stubbornness.

  Huffing, Malithorn spun away to pace. 'How long?'

  'As soon as possible. In the meantime, perhaps your frustration can be alleviated by a review of the methods the mages used. A deeper understanding will better equip you for the next encounter.'

  That did it. It always did. Malithorn was just as fascinated as Keldon by talent. But where Keldon was content to observe, Malithorn was determined to learn. It saddened Liacoren deeply that Malithorn possessed little natural talent, for it would have been a joy to share with him the wonders of talent and be his tutor as well as mother, just as her mother had taught her. Perhaps with Malithorn's acceptance of Taelyn, Liacoren might soon have a grandchild with which she could share such experiences.

  Day 20 – Morning

  Serenvale Plains

  Riqu watched with horror as the tip of the Ko-renti blade showed through Brynn's chest. Ko-rayen had planes-shifted in right behind Brynn, all he had to do was thrust the blade forward. And he had done so with great force, dropping to one knee as he did. It was an immense sword, being a Ko-renti blade it was inspired by the yllen-kaan, black fire dragon, and even the blade was black. As Ko-rayen pulled back, dragging the sword out, Brynn collapsed, his hands stopping him from hitting the ground, but his arms were trembling. Blood-stained silver and black hair cascaded forward, mercifully concealing the pain on Brynn's face.

  Riqu dashed Colnba aside with a force of talent.

  'Seda, bring me through!' Keysjhon sent desperately.

  A glance to the still-trapped group showed panic, shock and fear on all their faces. Riqu hoped Akileena was able to get through Colnba's barrier soon, because Brynn needed a healer much better than Riqu, and he needed that healer now!

  Riqu met Ko-rayen's blood-red gaze. Only an imbecile would try to fight a Ko-renti while the ko-hagen shrouded his mind. An imbecile or someone extremely desperate with no other options. Fortunately, Riqu was not without experience in dealing with the Ko-renti.

  First, he placed a shield around Ko-rayen, and then drew all the air out of it. />
  Ko-rayen planes-shifted, putting Riqu on guard.

  Sure enough, Ko-rayen appeared behind Riqu, but the rebel leader was ready, and he turned in time to fend off the Ko-renti's strikes with shields of air. They could not afford a prolonged fight, Riqu thought. But the only moves left were desperate ones, which made them highly risky and possibly fatal.

  Ko-rayen's appearance was more blessing than Colnba could have hoped. With Riqumorgia's attention on Ko-rayen, the Saviour was left completely vulnerable. He was surprised that Ko-rayen's strike had not been immediately fatal, the Ko-renti warrior rarely made such a misjudgement. But then he had just planes-shifted to find himself right behind the Saviour. Faced with such an unexpected opportunity and still feeling the disorientation of planes-shifting, Colnba considered the Ko-renti's swift reaction faultless.

  The young Saviour was using all his talent to keep himself alive, and, in doing so, was not on guard against new dangers. Rolling to his feet, Colnba swiftly crossed to him. Drawing a dagger, he dropped to one knee so he could thrust the blade under and up into his chest. The Saviour would not survive a second strike, no matter his talent.

  One moment he was lunging forth with his blade, the next he saw Riqumorgia's blue eyes, filled with pain.

  Someone cried out, a female voice.

  Colnba could no longer feel Ko-rayen, yet he had not felt the mage-warrior die.

  'I sent him back where he came from,' Riqumorgia whispered weakly.

  Colnba looked down at his blade, buried in Riqumorgia's chest. 'I am sorry, torahn,' Colnba sent with disbelief and remorse. He looked up to see the blazing deep-blue eyes of the Saviour. The younger elvan was still on all fours, his body shaking with shock, his cursed sword still in his hand, half buried in the dirt. Even though Colnba could see the Saviour was too weak to strike at him, the grief and fury in that gaze made him flinch. Releasing his sword, the young elvan started pulling himself forward. Carefully drawing his blade free, Colnba eased back. He could not make himself rise and stand over them. He could barely think, stunned by the destination this path had brought them to.