Lucien rubbed her cold arms, and she leaned against his chest. He explained, “She was trying to either replenish or develop her power more quickly beyond using her own energy. Through your blood and your own human energy, she received the sustenance needed to quicken the process."
"But why the water ritual?"
"'Twas her own method. She devised sacrifices that would best quicken her strength. I have only heard about Narisse. I gathered information on her, but she left very few traces. No one had ever found her. How did you escape? She would have never let you go."
"Someone stumbled upon us. A boy, about thirteen, mayhap fourteen. I remembered thinking how brave he was because he jumped on the witch, and she lost hold of me and attacked him."
Aislan could no longer remember the features of the boy's face, but her memories of a mane of golden hair and amber eyes remained. She named him the Lion Boy in her mind. At first, she thought of him often, but overtime, his face faded from her memory. The Lion Boy had saved her life, yet he did not haunt her dreams. Instead, she dreamed about Lucien, the devil who hunted her like a prey before she had overcome her fear by romanticizing about him. Sighing again, she pressed her cheek against his chest and continued.
"She was so strong. She sent him flying backwards, and she went after him. I sunk into the water. I came awake on the bank of the river in another part far away. At the time, I could not remember what happened. I just knew how to go home, so I—I crawled my way home. My father whipped me for wandering off. Eventually, after several months, I remembered everything that happened, but no one believed me. My father thought I was lying. I suppose I told many fanciful tales at that age, and so no one believed me.” Aislan studied Lucien. “Tell me—who is Narisse? Why are you tasked to find her?"
He did not hesitate to help her understand. “Narisse is a renegade in the Sorcery Circle. More than fifteen years ago, she stole the Circle's Sacred Scroll. It contained the secret incantations of the Sorsverein and the Four Lords of the Realms. When the Sorsverein compiled the manuscript, he meant for him and the Four Lords to study and coordinate their strengths with each other before they destroyed the manuscript. Narisse got her hands on it and disappeared. Unfortunately, Narisse is a Predator sorceress, someone with the ability to absorb energy from living beings to enhance her power. Not many sorcerers can siphon off others, but she could."
Lucien gave Aislan a blank look she could not interpret. He continued, “She practices human sacrifice, which is forbidden, but ‘tis a means to hone skills quickly rather than going through the requisite training, which takes as long as fourteen years to build the foundation. Narisse is also a Fluid element. She needs to drown her victims as she draws energy from them.” He smoothed her hair gently. “You were lucky. If she had not lost you, you would have died a painful death, and not just by drowning."
"How?"
"She would have opened you up and eaten your innards."
"That cannot be true! I do not believe that."
"Aislan, why are you defending Narisse? Are you trying to convince yourself she is misunderstood somehow, so you can justify your reason to seek her for apprenticeship? You experienced how she would have drowned you. How could you not be afraid of her? She would kill you as soon as she saw you."
After such a reprimand, how could Aislan dare to convince him anything more about Narisse? Lucien himself originated as the devil in her dreams and entered her life in bloodbath violence. Common sense dictated that she should have run as fast and as far away as she could from him. Instead, she welcomed him and took him as her lover. She obsessed over Lucien and Narisse almost equally, both of them dark and deeply troubled, inexplicably drawing her to them. How could she explain all this to him without sounding utterly mad?
No one had ever understood her visions, and so when even she could not make sense of them, Aislan learned to keep everything to herself as she tried to unscramble these images.
"Narisse could be dead now,” Lucien continued. “The Sorcery Circle hunted her all these years, but no one could find her, not even her body. My sorsverein recently assigned four of us to find Narisse again. I did not realize until recently the other three in the group were contenders to become the new Lords of the Realms also, to protect the Crown Prince once he ascends the throne.” He paused long enough, and Aislan considered what he had said. She did not understand the last part about the Realms or the new reign.
"Tell me more about how you came into sorcery power,” he pursued before she could ask him to elaborate on the intrigue surrounding the Crown and the Circle.
"For a long time after Narisse, I remained delirious. Not many people believed me.” Aislan debated on what she could tell Lucien. As a sorcerer, perhaps he could help her understand her strangeness. She started with the most obvious. “I think I acquired some sorcery power from her. I can stay underwater a long time without drowning.” She stopped.
"I suspected that.” Lucien nodded. “Fortunately, my sorsvasus brothers did not know too much about Narisse and did not suspect this ability you have.” He regarded her thoughtfully. “What else?"
Aislan tried the next best thing. “I have certain visions that sometimes come true. I initially thought I dreamed them, but sometimes I see all these images while I am awake. Most of the time, they are just jumbles, and out of a myriad of visions, one image happens.” She chose her words carefully. “Sometimes, I can move things, little things, barely shifting something about, very insignificant and useless. I can move things a finger span distance if I concentrated hard enough."
He kept looking at her, but in a prompting way for her to continue.
"Not many believed about Narisse, of course. They thought I was touched in the head. Stand me next to a window, and they expected me to fall out of it. Put me near a tree, and they expected me to climb it and then dive off a limb.” She stole a surreptitious glance but found Lucien attentive. “I can climb walls, clinging to a slightly rough surface by digging in my fingertips, but I can only climb up or down so far before it hurts. I always fall and can do nothing to stop the fall."
Most of her falls had to do with climbing up and down trees or out the windows trying to escape, first at her father's home, then later at Templeton Castle. After a few falls, Hayton barred the window to prevent Aislan from falling out. No one in their right mind would scale down a flat wall from several stories above without a rope or even a tied-up bed sheet.
"So ‘tis why some parts of your body are scarred, your muscles pulled or torn. You have a couple of bones not quite healed properly.” Lucien sighed. “Your father should have sent you to a sorcery clan. You could trade servitude for training. You would spend the first fourteen years tending to the clan while learning at the same time, but at least you would have acquired training."
Lucien's words made tears of self-pity flow down her cheeks. “When my father refused to school me, I kept trying to run away, but he always caught me and locked me up. I thought ‘twas unnecessarily harsh of him. He kept me imprisoned for a good reason. I was not even sixteen when my father sold me into marriage to a disgusting old man."
Aislan had rebelled and openly shown her revulsion towards her future husband, who was older than her own father. Hayton Temple had to beat her on their wedding night and for many weeks afterwards to force her to submit to him.
"A few months later, when I was still not receptive to him, Hayton thought he could win me over by telling me he did it all for love. He told me he saw me when I was seven years old and wanted me for his wife. Even when he thought I could be insane, it did not deter him. He told me how he provided for my family throughout the years, putting food on our table and clothes on our backs. Once I have grown old enough to wed, he deeded one of his manors to my father.” She closed her eyes, and Lucien pulled her into his embrace.
"Aislan, my poor Aislan.” He pressed his face against her hair.
"I was so furious because my father sacrificed me to a lecherous old bastard. I could not take m
y wretched life any longer.” She pulled away, but Lucien took her hands and kissed first one wrist, then the other where she had slashed them both open. “A maid found me almost immediately. The priests all told me I had damned my soul.” She sighed. “No Heaven for me."
Hayton never beat her or forced himself on her again. However, no matter how hard he begged for forgiveness and tried to appease her to convince her he loved her, Aislan had remained coldly resentful throughout their marriage. It took a procession of priests who damned her as they lectured her for months on end about her conjugal duties. The prospect of a more miserable afterlife waiting for her became too much to bear, so Aislan eventually gave in after a year of endless sermons. Fortunately, for the past couple of years, Hayton had traveled extensively, sometimes keeping away for a month or so. He came home only a week or two every other month. Nothing relieved her more than to see the back of him and his entourage whenever he rode off on another mission, apparently traitorous one. While gone, he kept her imprisoned in one of the towers so she could not run away. Whenever Aislan was allowed to wander around, servants followed her vigilantly. If she managed to lose them, they would form a party to find her because Hayton would kill them if he came back and found her gone.
"Meanwhile, you trained yourself how to use your sorcery.” Lucien shook his head. “You injured yourself in the process. You risked your own life. You could have damaged your mind. You could have become possessed."
If he understood her circumstances, why would he not find a way to help her? “I can be trained, can I not?” she asked hopefully.
"It takes fourteen years of training and servitude, but ‘tis a twenty-one-year commitment, Aislan. The first seven years are devoted to routine practice to establish the physical foundation and memorize the incantations. You spend another rigorous seven years connecting the movements to your mind until you can project your sorcery energy with your thoughts, as well as forging your power into your own weapons. You have to dedicate your life to those years of training to the exclusion of all else. During those fourteen years, you serve your sorcery clan in the capacity of a slave. Once your training is over, you have earned seniority. In the third seven years, you serve as a sorsvasus. Depending on the clan you have pledged yourself to, you could train other apprentices. Or you could represent your clan in various competitions. Or you could take on assignments that put to the test your ability to survive when pitched against other equally skillful opponents."
"Did you spend twenty-one years serving your sorcery master?"
"Yes, since I was seven.” He smiled almost bitterly.
"How fortunate your parents gave you the training you needed so you could be powerful. I did not have a mother. She died with the sixth girl."
He turned away and stared into the distance.
"Were you not happy to be given the opportunity to develop your full potential?” she asked resentfully.
"'Twas not my choice to develop my sorcery power."
She felt no sympathy. “You have what others crave, and you do not appreciate it."
"Thank you for your enlightenment. You envy something you do not understand. ‘Tis not a matter of choosing."
"Hmph! I'll take my chances."
Lucien had a chance to develop his power, to be powerful instead of helpless. He refused to train her because he belonged to the Circle, which considered it a taboo for sorcery master and apprentice to have sex. However, he had total disregard for the Church's view regarding fornication just because he did not believe in God. His picked-and-chosen method of taboos he would practice and those he refused seemed too arbitrary for Aislan.
"'Tis not as if I have no other options. If you cannot train me,” Aislan said in a cool tone, “kindly release me at a sorcery clan that will take me. I'll work my twenty-one years. If I do not like it, I could always go to a—uh—convent."
He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “Once you pledged yourself to a sorcery clan, you do not leave at will. Abandoning your clan because you do not like training makes you a deserter, Aislan. You cannot go to another clan to train, either. No sorcery clan will take on another's apprentice or sorsvasus. You can have only one sorcery master in your entire life. ‘Tis a testament of your loyalty. To desert your clan or to switch loyalties makes you a rogue sorcerer. You do not want that label. Once you are considered a renegade, you are fair game for other sorcerers to chase you down and kill you with impunity."
"Very well, then I'll not desert."
"You pick a path, and you may not be able to divert from it easily."
Aislan did not subscribe to his belief, but she said nothing.
"Anyway, the Circle will not allow you to train. You acquired power through a rogue sorceress during her forbidden rituals. You will be hunted down by the Circle if they have an inkling about your power."
"Damn your Circle and your arbitrary rules,” Aislan muttered.
"They are not arbitrary.” He gave her a reproving look. “They have been established for thousands of years to keep chaos and abuse in check. Otherwise, more powerful sorcerers will kill off those weaker and cause sufferings to the populace."
"If they are so powerful, why have they not killed off the populace or control them completely?"
"There are not as many sorcerers as you believe. The king can execute rogue sorcerers. To a certain extent, the Church—a very powerful influence—also monitors us. Everybody belongs to the Church in one capacity or another. A well-trained army of mortals can overpower sorcerers. Mortals can kill off untrained sorcerers to end future generations. In addition, not all sorcerers can fight. Like most everything, we are specialized. Strict rules keep sorcerers in line and ensure survival of those who are not combative."
"And all sorcerers obey those stringent rules?"
"There are those who obeyed as taught. There are those who interpreted them as they could live with. There are those who pushed the rules too far and stepped outside the line, but that applies to all rules in life and not just sorcery."
He would not train her, and apparently, no one else would, either. She would not give up her dream of Victania.
"Mayhap I could go to the convent. God is benevolent. The Church would forgive me and allow me to repent if I dedicate myself to serve Him the rest of my life.” Aislan hoped she sounded convincing.
"You are now religious?"
"There is good in belief of a higher being. Do you believe in God?"
"I am bound for Hell, so it no longer matters."
"You should not talk that way. This temporary life is miserable enough. How could you bear with the prospect of a more miserable afterlife waiting for you eternally?"
"I do not find this life miserable. I care nothing for the afterlife,” he said in a too-pleasant tone and got to his feet. “We should get going."
Lucien's abrupt dismissal of the subject only showed it to be a sore point for him. It made Aislan want to push, but she knew he was stubborn on top of everything else. “Where are we going again?"
"We need to change your identity."
"Change my identity!” Aislan did not want anything to do with the king who wanted to kill her or the Sorcery Circle and the Church that rejected her. She had wronged nobody, and yet no one allowed her to live in peace. “I have no interest in your intrigue and your political games. I wish to bother no one,” she insisted, trying not to weep in the face of hopeless despair.
"The king and the Sorsverein do not care what you wish. You cannot hide anywhere. They take possession of your personal belongings, and from that, a Tracker sorcerer can sniff your scent even in a crowd. I cannot risk having you captured. Someone may snatch you for the reward. Even your head will suffice."
"This ... changing of my identity, how will you go about it?"
He packed up and went to the horses, but Aislan did not budge. He looked impatient.
"Is it so horrible that you cannot tell me?” She refused to accept her fate like a reared lamb. “What does it involve
? What will be done to me?"
"You will be changed so you cannot be tracked. ‘Tis a temporary effect, as I understood, but even a fortnight helps if I know I could hide you without anyone finding you."
"And how will we go about this, changing my identity?"
He untethered the horses. “Let us ride."
She took a step back, knowing now it involved more than painting her face or coloring her hair. “Is it something horrible? Will my appearance change? Will my body change?"
"Only temporarily."
"What will I turn into? An animal?” Images of fangs and fur flashed in her mind. She remembered the wolves and saw herself changing into one. Her imagination went wild, and in pure panic, she backed away.
"Aislan, come back. I would not do anything to harm you. Should you not know that by now?"
"I know nothing about you. Why can you not let me go?"
"Have you not been listening? There is nowhere you can go."
"I can go to—to a convent,” she insisted desperately because she could think of nowhere else, and she dared not reveal Victania to him. “Surely I'll be no trouble to the king if I become a nun."
"Be damned with this nonsense. You will no more become a nun than I a priest. Come, we must go."
Aislan kept backing away. She trusted her vision, and she refused to shape-shift into a wolf. Turning, she ran, focused on getting away.
Vision of Light [The Renegades 1] Page 13
