by David Ekrut
Now that war had come to the Island Nations and to Justice, it seemed he could not escape it.
“If I must fight in a war,” Wilton said, “it might as well be here in defense of my home.”
His door banged open without so much as a tap.
“Who are you talking to?” Feffer said, as he bounced into the room.
Wilton stared at his younger brother. He was almost of height with him and nearly three years his junior. He couldn’t say why, but that grated him.
“What do you want, Feffer?”
“I am already packed. We are supposed to leave soon.” Feffer’s voice held an annoying amount of enthusiasm.
“Father will be left to tend the shop by himself. All of this work, for a single aging man. How will he get on without our help? ”
“I hadn’t thought of that.”
Wilton suppressed a smile when Feffer’s eyes widened with surprise. That would take a little pep out of his step, at least.
“Boys,” his father’s voice called from below. “Come down here, it is almost time.”
Feffer walked out the door ahead of him. Wilton followed his younger brother to the railing of the loft, which went around the entirety of the large storehouse. The bedrooms and his father’s office were located all on one side, jutting over the goods below. His father sold everything from weapons to grain, even some exotic herbs. Wilton had been raised learning the best trade routes in the nation. If he left Justice, that knowledge wouldn’t help him.
Feffer ran ahead of Wilton, skipping most of the steps on the way to the ground floor. Wilton took each step with deliberate precision.
He stood next to his brother and faced his father.
Tears rimmed Willem’s eyes. His voice cracked slightly on the first word. “Boys, I know you will make me proud. I am proud of you already. Neither of you needs to come back to me a war hero for me to feel proud. Just come back to me.”
He pulled them both for an embrace.
“Now,” he said as he pulled away. “I have something I want you boys to have.”
His father pulled two purses off his belt. Wilton hadn’t noticed there were two, until that moment. He threw one to each of them.
“But Father,” Wilton said. “You have already given us coin.”
“Everything is more expensive in the capital,” he said.
Feffer’s grin was childish. “Thanks Da!”
“Thank you, Father,” Wilton said.
His father ruffled Feffer’s hair. “Now, you go outside. I want to say something to your brother.”
Feffer’s grin faded, and he shrugged as if it didn’t matter that he was being excluded from the conversation. As per usual, he oversold the gesture. “I want to find Elwin anyway.”
After Feffer was gone, his father was silent for a moment.
“Wilton, I want you to promise me something.”
Wilton wished he hadn’t hesitated. But he had. “Anything father.”
“I want you to keep a close eye on your brother and help him stay out of trouble. The people here may have a strong tolerance for Feffer’s antics, but the city is another matter. Some of his pranks will be considered crimes there. Promise me that you will keep him out of the stocks.”
“I will do what I can, Father,” he said, not quite feeling the words.
“Thank you, son,” he said, hugging him.
He pulled Wilton to arm’s length and looked him in the eyes. His father had dark green eyes. Those same eyes had scolded him as a child. He had seen that calculated stare work an unfavorable trade to his father’s advantage.
“I don’t care what you have to do. Make a deal with the abyss if you have to, but keep you and your brother safe. Do you hear me? You two come back alive. I am counting on you.”
“I will Father. I promise.” Maybe it was the desperation in his father’s voice. But this time, he meant it.
Elwin stood in the square. The remnants of the evenings festivities were everywhere. Apple cores from candied apples had been left littered about. Fresh mud made a circular pattern where the cake walk had taken place. Depressions from tables that had displayed wares were fresh in the ground.
But the people had gone.
He wondered if his presence had anything to do with that. People should be lining the streets to say farewell to the men and boys going to war. But no one had come.
He looked up at the inn. He had grown up playing in the square with his cousins.
Elwin shook his head. “Not my cousins.”
“What was that?” Feffer said.
Elwin jumped. “Don’t sneak up on people.”
“What are you doing out here?” Feffer’s voice held an excited curiosity.
“Jasmine told me to wait in the square while she paid for the accommodations.”
“The acco- what?”
“The rooms she rented and food they ate,” Elwin said. “Don’t you read at all?”
“I have already told you that I read,” Feffer said. “I just ignore the big words.”
Elwin sighed.
“Is it safe for you to be out here by yourself?” Feffer asked.
“Jasmine is holding my essence.”
“She what?”
“It’s safe.”
“Alright,” Feffer shrugged. “Where is everyone?”
“I am sure they are avoiding … the square right now.”
“No. I mean, where are all of the soldiers. We are all supposed to report to the square.”
“I don’t know, Feffer. I haven’t seen anyone. I guess you are the first one.”
Feffer grinned.
The door to the inn opened and his parents stepped out. His grandparents followed them. He avoided their gaze as they approached.
He flinched when his mother reached to hug him, but he let her take him into her embrace. Closing his eyes, he held on to her. He felt his father’s strong arms wrap around the two of them.
“No matter what happens,” he heard his father’s voice say, “we will always love you.”
He held on to them until he heard Jasmine speak, “It’s nearly time.”
His father, then his mother, released him.
Without looking at them, he said, “I love you, too.”
He hugged his grandparents one at a time. His Poppe smiled. “Now, you’ll come back with stories to tell me.”
Elwin gave him a smile that he did not feel.
Then he turned from the inn and his family and walked away from the only home he had ever known. He could not help but wonder if he would ever see any of them again.
Feffer sat next to the evening’s campfire and rubbed his bare feet. Traveling to the capital had been nothing like he had hoped. To begin with, he had to march with everyone else, while Elwin road in the carriage with the pretty ladies. He had to walk for hours without stopping, while Elwin got to ride in luxury. He hadn’t even seen his friend since that first day.
Next, Wilton hadn’t spoken more than a dozen words to him. And none of the other guys wanted to say much either. So it was just walking. Five days of walking and five more besides. If he slowed down at all, Lord Lifesong would ride up on his horse and yell curses at him, calling him rude names. Someone should wash the commander’s mouth out with lye.
And worst of all, they wouldn’t let him carry a sword. Wasn’t that the whole reason they wanted him? When he had asked about one, Lord Lifesong had laughed at him and told him he would have to teach him how to carry it without stabbing himself in the foot first.
Then, everyone else laughed at him.
A white cloaked soldier walking toward him made Feffer look up. “Stew’s ready.”
“Ugh,” Feffer replied.
Maybe that was worst of all. This was his fifth night of mutton stew. Their cook had obviously n
ever heard of spices. Would it hurt to use a little salt or peppercorn? Barley or sage?
He slipped his boots back on and laced them, taking his time. Next, he would have to stand.
“How are you holding up?” It was Wilton’s voice.
Feffer looked up to see his brother standing on the other side of the fire. The light danced off his face, and he stood with a casual ease. Feffer doubted that marching for five days had been as difficult for Wilton. He had always been better at things that were hard work.
Feffer felt his bottom lip quiver. He bit it so that he wouldn’t cry.
“Hop up, Feffer.” He walked over to him and offered a hand. “You need to eat. Tomorrow is going to be another long day.”
Feffer took his brother’s hand. “Have you seen Elwin?”
Wilton shook his head. “They are still keeping him away from the soldiers. Biron, the man Elwin killed, was well liked. It is going to take some time before Elwin is accepted, if he ever is. Can you believe it?” Wilton shook his head as if he couldn’t.
“But that wasn’t Elwin’s fault!” Feffer protested.
“They don’t see it that way. But it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s get some dinner.”
Feffer began to argue, but Wilton cut him off by walking away. He had to run a couple of steps to catch up. Each step sent a jolt of pain up his leg.
Wilton slowed down once they reached the chow line. It was already quite long. Feffer was pretty sure that he and Wilton would be the last two served. That meant there would be little mutton in their mutton stew, which meant his dinner would consist of mutton flavored water.
Feffer sighed.
It was safe to say that being a soldier was nothing like the stories. But if they had talked about this part, he was pretty sure there would be much fewer soldiers.
Feffer sighed again.
“We are here.” Zarah’s voice broke Elwin’s concentration.
He had been attempting to feel for the movements of his essence in the shadow realm, so he could find Jasmine’s. From her perspective, he imagined himself to look like a halfwit bumbling around, his eyes closed and reaching for her with clumsy lunges. More accurately, he probably looked like a baby trying to open and close his hand, but he didn’t care much for that analogy.
He stared at Zarah for a moment before her words made sense in his mind.
“What? We are?” he said, yawning. It seemed like he had to be half asleep to even feel the slightest movements of his essence.
“See for yourself.” Despite the exhaustion in her movements, her voice bounced with excitement. She pulled aside the curtain and leaned back so he could see.
Dusk began to obscure the view, but enough light settled on the buildings that Elwin could still read the script marking shops on signs by the roadside. Several buildings hung close to the side of the cobblestones with closed shutters. Flames danced atop tall poles spaced every dozen paces.
Elwin jumped back to his seat when he felt a sudden surge of heat burst into life near him. It took him a moment to realize the heat had not touched his body. He had sensed the flames with his essence.
“What was that?”
“The firestarters,” Zarah said.
“I …,” Elwin licked his lips. “I felt it.”
On the bench across from him, Jasmine sat a little straighter and studied his face. “You felt the Fire being tamed?”
Elwin nodded. “It felt like heat.”
“Interesting,” Jasmine said. “Usually, it takes time and training to feel other Elements being tamed. Feeling it without trying could mean you have the ability to tame Fire as well.”
“That does not make sense,” Zarah said. “He should not be—”
“We will need to test you,” Jasmine said in a no-nonsense tone. Zarah narrowed her eyes in a look of chagrin but remained silent as her mother continued, which spoke to her level of exhaustion.
Ten days and nights of lectures from Jasmine had worn on Zarah as much as Elwin. She seemed to know as much about most of the topics they discussed as Jasmine. But most of the times Zarah tried to share her thoughts on the matter, Jasmine rebuked her.
Jasmine continued as if not seeing Zarah’s glare. “It is rare that a person who tames Air can also tame Fire. Usually, those who first manifest Air can tame Water and vice versa. Those who first find Fire can later tame Earth. Even more rare are those who can tame three Elements. There have been none since before the Shadow Wars of anyone taming all four.”
“How can I know?” Elwin asked.
“Before you sleep tonight,” Jasmine said, “I will have you tested. The test is simple, but I could not perform it without my artifact.”
Outside the wagon, he felt another burst of Fire. He peaked out the window on his own side to watch it being done. A man in dark clothes walked along the cobblestones not even slowing a step at each post. As he walked by each lamp, tiny embers glowing a soft red coalesced near the man and vanished. Now that he could see it, Elwin felt the heat grow to a fine point and burst, as the top of each pole came alive with flames.
“Wow,” Elwin breathed. “Do they do this every night?”
“We may not be Alcoa,” Zarah said, “but we still have a few elementalists with minor gifts who stay here. There are not enough firestarters to form a guild exactly, but we have enough.”
“Guilds?” Elwin said. “Like with the blacksmiths? Faron had belonged to a guild in Alcoa. I heard him complaining about their outrageous dues to my Poppe once.”
Zarah raised her eyebrows and looked at Jasmine as if expecting her mother to answer.
Jasmine gave Zarah the briefest of nods and said, “You may answer this one.” Though her tone said, “You may try to answer this one.”
Zarah raised her chin and said in a confident voice, “They share some similarities. Blacksmiths belong to trade guilds. Each trade guild has different notoriety based on several factors. A guild master is usually a grandmaster. To be considered a part of one, a member must prove himself worthy to be a part of the guild. After being accepted as a member, a blacksmith can trade his wares with the sigil of the guild. The higher the esteem of the guild, the more a blacksmith can inflate his prices. However …”
Elwin found her voice beginning to lull him. He tried to focus on her words, but he had listened to lectures and trained by day in the wagon and by night in the shadow realm. He felt like his mind had performed a thousand press-ups and had run a hundred miles.
Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “What does this have to do with the elementalists who stay?” He wanted to take his words back the instant they were out.
Zarah flinched, then glared as if he had slapped her.
Even though she had likely heard much, if not all of it before, she had sat through every lecture. The very moment she had permission to take part in the discussion, he had ruined it. He was a half-wit. What was he thinking?
Her mouth worked for a moment as if to reply, but Jasmine spoke first. Zarah’s glare seemed to deepen with Jasmine’s every word.
“For every imaginable trade, there is a guild in Alcoa. I do not speak simply of blacksmiths and stone masons. In Alcoa, there are professions based on Elemental talents. Being part of an Elemental guild is highly profitable. But this is not the only reason young elementalists journey to Alcoa. The Elemental guilds answer to the Sacred Order.
“This group of elementalists have been charged with protecting the lands from those who would use the Elements for ill. Since the King of Alcoa leads the order, many elementalists sojourn to the city in hopes of finding acclaim by joining the order.” Jasmine waved her hand in a gesture of annoyance. “Silly notion. After all, members of the Sacred Order are anonymous and do not need to be in Alcoa to be a member.”
“Wait,” Elwin said. “But don’t the Guardians of Life protect people? Why is there any
need for a Sacred Order?”
For a moment, Jasmine made a face as if she had tasted a lemon, but her voice remained the instructional tone he had grown accustomed to over their journey. “The Guardians were founded in Alcoa to protect citizens from elementalists, while the Sacred Order is a group of elementalists who work together to guide elementalists in Alcoa to benefit all. The Guardians will employ healers, but they do not generally welcome any not bound to Life and without a focus in healing to join their ranks. After all, they need healers in their temples.”
Elwin’s voice came out as a tired sigh. “But you just said the Sacred Order protects people. What do the guilds have to do with that?”
“Every Elemental guild must swear fealty to the king and the Sacred Order to operate in Alcoa. They train elementalists much in the way I will train you. Entering into an apprenticeship with a specific guild will choose your focus. For example,” she said gesturing toward the light poles. “Firestarters in Alcoa belong to the Blazing Fist and are charged with lighting the fire poles, but this is not their only role. They are also trained in forms of combat to aid in defense of the city.”
Elwin tried to make sense of her words, then realized he couldn’t recall the original topic. Hadn’t he asked about the Guardians of Life? He took a deep breath to sigh, but it came out as a long yawn.
Zarah’s laugh didn’t seem to hold much mirth.
“What?” he demanded amidst his yawn.
“Your nose scrunches in the cutest of ways when you are confused.” Zarah’s tone had no inflection, so he couldn’t be sure if she mocked or complimented him.
His cheeks burned, and he found himself covering his nose. Zarah placed a hand on his arm and her soft laugh became a genuine giggle. Had she not been mocking him, he might have considered the sound of her laughing the most delightful sound to ever touch his ears. But no. She was mocking him. He was sure of it now.
“Zarah,” Jasmine said in a sharp voice. “Your behavior is not appropriate.”
