The First Kaiaru

by David Alastair Hayden

  She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, then nodded. “I’m sharing you with her already. I can handle it. Being married as opposed to what we’ve been doing, it’s not all that different, right?”

  It didn’t seem that way to him. “Sure. I guess.”

  Her ears perked up. She took his hands. “Look, you're going to spend the evening with my dad and some of his friends, doing whatever it is men do the night before a wedding. And I’ll be with my mom and some of my cousins. I won’t see you again until tomorrow.”

  She kissed him on the cheek, then headed out, pausing at the door. “Sobei, someday, you will understand exactly how much this means to me.”

  Turesobei stopped her. “Wait.” He went over to the packs of treasure they had brought with them. “Remember that pretty necklace that we packed last night?”

  “The one with the emerald that had the matching bracelets?”

  He nodded. “Take that and wear it tomorrow.”

  She clapped her hands in delight. Lu Bei helped them find the necklace and the matching pieces. Then she kissed Turesobei on the cheek and darted out.

  He fell back onto the bed. He didn't already understand how much it meant to her? Great. This was going to be just like trying to understand the Blood King’s version of the meaning of sacrifice.

  Turesobei wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the wall when Shaman Eira entered, carrying a bowl of water spiced with herbs. “I have to give you a blessing. It’s simple. I will pour spiced water on your head and say a prayer.”

  “Okay.”

  “They say you rode in on the dragon.”

  “We did. We couldn’t travel that way before, because I hadn’t yet mastered the dragon.”

  “I'm definitely going to be there to watch you fly away.”

  She knelt beside him and did the ritual, which was over in a few minutes. She groaned as she stood.

  “Here, let me do another healing spell on you, to help with your arthritis and your vision.”

  “Bless your heart, child. The last time you did that I didn't feel any pain for a month, and I can still see a little better.”

  “I can do a much better healing spell now, especially for your eyes. It still won’t be permanent, but it should last at least three times longer than what I did before.”

  “If you have time before leaving, I have a couple of patients who could use some help. Oh, and those heating runes have really helped in the infirmary.”

  After he healed her, she said, “By the gods, I feel ten years younger.”

  “Why don’t I go ahead and see your patients now and recharge those runes? We won’t be able to stay long after the wedding.” And maybe it would take his mind off things.

  After helping the shaman’s patients and restoring the runes, he returned to his room and tried to nap. He didn’t succeed, and soon, Tsuroko popped his head in and said, “Lad, it’s time.”

  Turesobei didn’t even bother asking what it was time for, but he was certain this terrible day was about to become worse.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Turesobei ate dinner with Tsuroko and six of his best friends, and the worst thing about it wasn’t the food but that during the three hours it took them to finish their dinner, the men continuously gave him marriage advice. He didn't want to hear any of it. And most of it only made sense for goronku living underground in the Ancient Cold and Deep.

  After dinner was finally over, they started drinking ikase and singing bawdy love songs. When Turesobei, his face flushed and his head spinning, vomited his third cup of ikase, they laughed and cheered. They let him off after that, since he was smaller than they were.

  They continued to drink into the late hours. They recounted their greatest deeds and sobbed about how much they loved their wives. The worst thing, maybe the worst thing ever, was when they began to reminisce about their wedding nights. Turesobei badly wished then that he could cast the spell of silence or slip away.

  At some point, he passed out.

  The next thing he remembered was waking in his bed with a terrible headache that led to more vomiting. As soon as he could finally speak clearly, he cast a healing spell so he would stop retching and so the headache would go away. He fell back asleep, only to be awoken later by a boy with a bundle of clothes in his arms.

  “These are for you to wear. The wedding ceremony starts in three hours.”

  “You should probably get cleaned up, master,” Lu Bei said, pinching his nose. “You smell terrible.”

  * * *

  The Commons was decorated much as it had been for his sixteenth birthday. Streamers and lanterns hung from the ceiling and the walls, and a band played a soft romantic tune. The strong smell of charred meat and heavily spiced fish filled the room. Everyone was dressed in their goronku finest. On the far end of the room, opposite the steps leading up and outside, stood a platform decorated with rich fabrics. Turesobei would've expected flowers, but they didn’t have flowers in the Ancient Cold and Deep.

  Turesobei took a deep breath and stepped through the doorway. Everyone in the large, jam-packed room turned toward him. He smoothed out the bluish sonoke skin robe they had given him to wear.

  Kurine stood waiting for him on the platform in a plush white gown with green trim that matched her emerald eyes, which were sparkling with joy. The cinched waist and scooped neckline accented her voluptuous figure. Her hair, freed from its normal thick braid, spilled in a golden cascade over her shoulders. A necklace of black pearls with an emerald in its center hung from her neck, and the matching headband, bracelets, and anklets were equally dazzling.

  Her smile lit the room and calmed his nerves, a little. He did love her. He tried to focus on that. Enough to marry her…probably…eventually. This getting married thing would work out…somehow.

  The music picked up, and the crowd fell silent. Kurine's parents stepped onto the platform, followed by Shaman Eira and War Chief Sudorga, Turesobei’s chosen representative. Earth Priestess Faika and Sun Priestess Oroki were already standing on the platform. They would perform the ceremony.

  Turesobei, trembling slightly, walked down the path that had formed in the crowd between him and Kurine. It seemed to take a small forever to reach the platform. He eventually stepped up next to Kurine. He had to take a deep, steadying breath before he could look at her. He wiped his sweaty palms, then took her right hand in his left.

  She leaned in and whispered, “Don't be nervous. It's just you and me, and the promise to keep loving each other—forever.”

  Oh, was that all? He tried to return her smile. Up here, with everyone looking at them, everything suddenly seemed much too real. To be standing here…and to be doing this…he had to be out of his mind. Why hadn't he thought of the good excuses, whatever they were, that Kurine had?

  He fought the desire to make a break for it. If he were to cast the spell of the fog cloud as a diversion, he could easily make it outside before anyone realized what was happening. Of course, he doubted the Storm Dragon would let him fly away on its back without Kurine. And there was no telling what the Blood King might do if Turesobei returned without her. Besides, he couldn’t just leave her behind.

  Lu Bei finished zooming circles around them, shooting harmless sparks into the air, then took his place. The fetch gave him a brave wink.

  No one else had noticed Turesobei’s panic. Kurine was far too absorbed in the start of the ceremony to see it. And the rest of the village was focused on the priestesses who were reciting a poem about love and faithfulness and the beauty of marriage and having a family.

  They kept using the word forever. And they also said true love about a dozen times. He was pretty sure he had two true loves, and he was well aware that wasn't how it was supposed to work out.

  The poem ended, and the priestesses started chanting a song. For some reason, this made Kurine, along with most of the women in the room, cry. Even Tsuroko wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. When that song ended, another began, followed by mo
re prayers and chants. The rhythms were soft and repetitive and lulled his overwhelmed mind into a stupor.

  Turesobei had completely lost track of what was going on when Earth Priestess Faika said, “Do you, Kurine, promise to love Turesobei only and to devote yourself to him and him alone until death, through all trials the future might bring?”

  Kurine blinked back more tears and beamed at the room. “That and more.”

  “Do you, Chonda Turesobei, promise to love Kurine only and to devote yourself to her and her alone until death, through all trials the future might bring?”

  Chapter Forty

  Trying not to worry about her friends out in the Ancient Cold and Deep, Enashoma walked through the Throne Room and up the steps toward the dais. The Blood King was waiting for her in the Workshop. As she passed the jade throne, something pricked at her mind, then chill bumps spread across her skin.

  Shivering, she glanced around. She didn’t see anything unusual. But she definitely sensed a growing presence. Was this a test the Blood King had set up for her…or something else?

  She calmed her mind, tucked her hands within the sleeves of her robes, and bent her fingers into a focusing mudra. She scanned the room, searching for the presence. It was close, practically on top of her.

  She spun around—but saw nothing.

  She took a few steps…and the presence moved with her. How could that be? What was—Oh, of course. What she sensed was Nāa’s consciousness radiating outward from his kavaru. But his presence wasn’t normally anywhere near this strong.

  Her heart raced in a panic. Had his power grown somehow? Had he lied to her? Was he trying to take over her mind and body?

  A sense of calm radiated out from the kavaru. Not that. Of course, not that. Was this a new sensation she was going to have to adjust to as his power increased? Or was he trying to communicate with her?

  She could open her mind to him. He almost certainly wanted her to. But if she did, she would feel completely exposed. No matter how much she accepted him being within her all the time, she couldn’t bear to interact with him without being in the Canvas. Not yet.

  He had asked her to pay close attention to the world around her. Did he want her to examine something in the Throne Room? The sensation had occurred as soon as she had reached the dais. So, that meant either the throne or the passage that could take you to the Workshop and, somehow, the kavaru vault.

  She glanced around, and a tickle at the back of her mind directed her.

  It was the throne.

  She stepped up to the massive, jade seat. A crack spread along the back, the result of Turesobei battling the Blood King when they had first arrived. A cracked throne and a bloodied nose was the best Turesobei had managed against the Blood King. She examined the throne and ran a hand along the right arm. The surface was smooth and cold. Nothing unusual stood out to her. She didn’t even feel a pulse of energy within it.

  “Can I help you, new apprentice?” an equally cold voice snarled.

  Enashoma flinched and spun around. The Blood King stood just beyond the back wall. His eyes were a mix of scarlet and yellow.

  “M–master, sorry. I was on my way to the Workshop and….”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And you…?”

  “I was admiring the jade. It’s pretty. And I was wondering why you hadn’t repaired the cracks. Really, I was just dawdling. I’m…nervous about becoming a wizard.”

  “Those cracks are a reminder that the best your brother could do to me was scratch my throne.” The yellow eyes scanned her. “Come. You have much work to do.”

  As Enashoma followed him into the Workshop, her heart racing, she felt a pulse from the kavaru. Nāa was pleased about something.

  She walked through the Workshop and up to a desk the Blood King had moved to the center of the room. On it, he had placed a stack of books and two sheets of paper, one with characters scrawled on it and one that was blank.

  “I want you to duplicate these characters.” His yellow eyes slowly shifted to emerald. “Be as precise as you can.”

  Enashoma knelt at the table, dipped a brush in the ink, and began to copy the characters. She did not know what they represented, but having grown up around Turesobei and her grandfather, she knew magic runes when she saw them. She duplicated them as instructed. Then, she leaned back and examined them, thinking she had done a decent job.

  The Blood King took the sheet of paper and scanned it. “Impressive. These are almost perfect.” His eyes flickered back to yellow. “Are you certain you have not done any magical studies before?”

  Years of drawing the marks her grandmother had taught her for using the Maker’s Brush was why she was good at copying the characters. But of course, she couldn’t tell him that.

  “I’ve always had good handwriting. And I studied calligraphy and had to take art lessons.” She shrugged. “Guess I’m a natural.”

  The eyes returned to emerald. “Well, we will certainly take advantage of that. Now, we are going to practice phrases. Then we will extend your knowledge of energy channeling and focusing. It is fortunate that I allowed Hannya to teach you the art of Pawanaré Mudra Abjuration. This and your exposure to magic growing up has already placed you far along the path.” He gestured to the stack of books. “You have much study to do. And I expect you to spend nearly all your waking time working on magic.”

  “I will do so gladly,” she said with genuine enthusiasm.

  Between becoming a wizard and mastering the art of using the Maker’s Brush, she could become a powerful force. And for once, maybe she could be the one to protect everyone and save the day.

  “I believe you will do well,” the Blood King said. “And by the end of this week, I think you will manage some basic castings. Minor wind spells, summoning a fire globe…those sorts of things.”

  Enashoma nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  She felt a stirring within the kavaru. Nāa was eager to talk to her about something.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Turesobei stared at the Earth Priestess, dumbfounded. Then his heart started pounding as if he were in a fight for his life. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What was he going to do? He couldn’t get married. This was ridiculous. He’d just have to back out.

  Then Kurine turned her warm smile on him. Her cheeks were damp from crying, and she was so happy that her eyes practically glowed. It was clear to even an idiot like him how much she loved him. If he refused to marry her now….

  This isn't about me. It's about making Kurine happy. And it’s especially about making her parents happy. They are never going to see her again, and that’s my fault.

  “I—” he gulped “—I do.”

  But he would not love or marry Kurine only. That he could not promise. Kurine understood his heart on that matter. At least, he was pretty sure she did. She had basically said so.

  The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur of vows and declarations. Those two simple words—I do—reverberated in his head. He feared those two words would have more influence over him than whatever the secret destiny was that Lu Bei had come back for.

  Earth Priestess Faika smiled. “You must now kiss one another.”

  Because he was so nervous and jittery, it was a short, terrible kiss. But Kurine didn't seem to mind.

  “And now the mark to seal this union,” Faika said.

  “Mark?” Turesobei asked. “What mark?”

  Tsuroko lifted his sleeve, showing a blue heron design that had been branded onto his skin and stained into his fur. Kurine's mom lifted her sleeve, showing a matching design. Turesobei had never noticed these brands before, probably because he'd spent most of his time with unmarried goronku and because even the goronku, despite their thick fur, wore sleeves all the time.

  “To waver in pain,” Oroki said, “is to waver in love.”

  An inked brand? And pain? Why had no one warned him about this?! Kurine should have said something. But then she probably had assumed this was how p
eople got married in his culture, too. She had never met anyone who was married outside of her own people.

  “This then,” Oroki continued, “is the final seal and proof of your enduring promise to one another, this community, and the gods.”

  Shaman Eira stepped forward, bearing a bowl filled with green ink. She took from the bowl a strip of cloth and wrapped it around Kurine's right forearm, just above the wrist. Then she did the same to Turesobei. The pungent ink made his nose run and his eyes water.

  Turesobei gave Kurine a puzzled look. She leaned in and whispered, “I hope you like the design.”

  “How bad is this going to hurt?” he whispered back.

  “You don’t do this among your people?”

  “No!” he almost said too loudly.

  “Oh, Sobei, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think to ask you.”

  A man with a fire pot and an iron rod stepped forward. From the fire pot, he drew the red-hot, flattened end of the rod.

  “Now grasp each other's arms and prepare to press your wrists and forearms together,” Shaman Eira said. “Be careful and certain. You don’t want to ruin the placement.”

  Turesobei cringed. This was going to hurt—a lot. The man placed the rod between their arms. Kurine and Turesobei carefully positioned their wrists near the hot iron. He didn’t want a brand or a tattoo! And symbols mattered. A bad symbol could potentially interfere with his spells. But, he was certain he could magic the design away if necessary. And if he couldn’t, surely the Blood King could.

  Kurine smiled then nodded. Simultaneously, they grasped each other’s arms near the elbow and pinned their forearms and wrists together against the flat edge of the iron.

  Turesobei took a deep breath, then exhaled as pain shot through his arm. He could feel his skin melting. He smelled his flesh and Kurine’s fur burning. Her eyes filled with tears, but otherwise she showed no signs of pain. He tried to do the same. In the end, he blocked out the pain by mentally rehearsing the next spell of teleportation he was going to need.