by Edward Shawn
James wasn’t sure how far he ran, but he felt as fresh as when he first started this phase of his training. During the early morning hours, his lesson had consisted of understanding basic meditation techniques. Micah spent nearly an hour teaching him how to sit and breathe properly in order to clear his mind of all thought. He kept insisting James learn how to meditate and that they wouldn’t proceed until he attained an acceptable level of spiritual peace. He claimed it was crucial James focus on keeping his mind free of unnecessary clutter if he wanted to access the entire spectrum of power residing within the medallion. Eventually Micah’s instructions got through to him and he reached a state of inner calm, but only after realizing his instructor would not relent.
Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Micah riding with the herd. Seated on the back of a dark brown mare, he gripped the reins with one hand, his feathered staff held aloft in the other as he urged his horse onwards. He looked to be enjoying himself as he rode with the horses over the open terrain.
After the meditation session, Micah had peppered him with information regarding the medallion. Apparently, they all functioned in exactly the same way, yet at the same time they were quite unique from one another. One of the commonalities they all shared was granting the bearer the ability to communicate with animals, or more accurately, a specific grouping of animals. This was the most rudimentary of abilities the medallion bestowed and James had already experienced this at certain times with Castle.
Being a basic power, communicating with animals could be achieved by almost anyone possessing a medallion. All they needed was a whole lot of concentration and to be forearmed with a working knowledge of what they were dealing with. Nevertheless, it was still a difficult feat to accomplish and only descendents of the original medallion designers could ever hope to master each power residing within.
Guiding his horse through the herd, Micah came up beside the running youth. Through the thunder of hooves colliding repeatedly with the ground, James heard the order to stop. It seemed the training session was over. Slowing down, James watched the remainder of the herd pass him by.
Micah stopped next to the sweaty young man. “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked, smiling broadly at the teenage boy.
His hands on his knees, James looked up and grinned. “That was amazing!”
“How do you feel?”
“Great! I feel great–just a little out of breath.”
“Only a little? You just ran for almost two miles nonstop.”
James had never done that before; he wasn’t exactly the athletic type. Watching the horses recede into the distance, the bond between them still intact, he knew this moment would stay with him for the rest of his life.
“Hop on.” Micah reached out and helped him up. “Should we continue with the training or do you need a break?”
His breathing back to normal, James felt invigorated by the run. “I’m ready for more.”
“Okay then.” Turning his horse around, Micah prompted it forward at a slow trot. “This wasn’t the first time you absorbed an animal’s abilities because of the medallion.”
James held onto Micah as the horse moved across the unending plain. “You’re right. It happened yesterday when I was picking berries. And Castle...” He recalled the incident in his bedroom when the medallion flared wildly and suddenly his dog’s presence invaded his head.
“What about him?” Micah asked.
“I’ve felt him in my mind. It wasn’t the same sensation I get from other animals, like those horses.” Turning back for a look, the horses had diminished to the point that they were just specks on the horizon. “It was like Castle was sharing my headspace–as if we were one.”
Micah nodded. “When you are bonded with an animal like you are with your dog, things like that will happen. You’ll get used to it eventually.”
“The medallion hurt me too,” James said, “in my head.”
“That’s because your brain is adjusting to its new way of receiving information. But don’t worry. This will pass in time, if it hasn’t already.”
“My brain is what?” James blurted out in shock. “What do you mean, don’t worry! How could I not worry about something like that?”
“If you want to use the medallion–if you want to wield its power–it’s a change that you must go through. Anyway, it’s too late, it’s done.”
His initial panic began to fade. He felt fine and as long as he did, he would trust in Micah. Besides, he didn’t have any choice having already come this far. “You know so much about this stuff. Where did you learn it all?”
“That’s a story for another day,” Micah said, shifting around on the horse. “What you just accomplished–running with the herd–that can only be done by someone the medallion has imprinted itself upon, like yours has with you. No one can use your medallion and do what you did, no matter how hard they try. And also, just so you know, once an animal’s skills are stored, it resides within the medallion for a very long time.”
“Like, forever long?” James asked, but it was far from a serious question.
“No, not that long. The medallion can store a certain number of abilities. As newer ones are absorbed, older ones are lost.”
“So, I can run as fast as a horse whenever I want.” James found it an exciting premise to run as fast as the wind.
“Yes, but it’s not a toy, keep that in mind.”
“I understand. Where are we going now?”
Micah pointed at the distant mountain range. “We’re heading there.”
James stared at the jagged mountaintops cutting across the faraway sky. It was the same range he admired when descending the hill. The peaks partially covered in snow, they resembled the Rocky Mountains he visited on a road trip with his parents during happier times spent as a family.
“Seems a long way off,” James said.
“It’s half a day’s travel, depending on the weather. There’s a village on the way to the mountains. We’ll head there first.”
They traveled for a while before stopping by a flowing stream for a brief respite. Micah supplied a meal of dried fruit and some type of spicy jerky. After quenching their thirst with cold stream water, they started towards the mountains once again.
The warmth of the afternoon began to fade, the air growing colder as they continued on. Before long a light snowfall drifted with the breeze and gathered on the ground. Pausing briefly, Micah removed a pair of fur-lined jackets from a pack strapped to the horse and handed one to James.
The land was white ahead of them, the falling snow heavier and obscuring the mountains. “What happened to the weather?” James asked, his breath dissipating into the air as he wrapped his jacket tightly around him trying to stay warm. He found the sudden weather shift highly irregular.
“My world exists simultaneously in all of the seasons. Nilvanya is not divided by borders or large bodies of water, but by zones where the seasons remain constant each and every day. Right now, we are moving from one climate zone into another, from summer into winter.”
James peered over his shoulder and saw the remnants of the summer zone in the distance. Gazing at the sky, he could actually see where one zone ended and the other began as the warm blue sky buffeted against–but did not drift past–the grayness of winter’s clouds. As the sun inched lower, the increasing chill grew more uncomfortable.
Approaching the rim of a shallow valley, Micah raised his staff and pointed. “There. That is our destination...the village called Anarqui.”
James looked down into the valley and spotted a series of small fires on top of an immense circular hill. He saw a structure as well but couldn’t see it clearly due to the heavy snowfall. The structure was quite large, but his attention was solely on the inviting warmth of the fires.
Anarqui was still a fair distance away. James shivered as the temperature continued dropping with the coming of night.
“The cold will toughen you up,” Micah said. The frigid temperature didn’t see
m to bother him much.
“S-Sure it will,” James replied through chattering teeth. “I heard s-shivering makes you t-tougher.”
Micah chuckled. Untying the pouch hanging from his waist, he searched around inside. “This should help.” Removing his loosely clenched hand, he raised it to his mouth and exhaled on his palm. An orange glow appeared between the gaps in his fingers. Opening his hand, he released a shining sphere into the darkness.
James was mesmerized by the floating orb of swirling orange and yellow light. The size of a tennis ball, it supplied light and radiated heat.
“Wow. Cool trick,” James remarked.
“I thought you might appreciate it.”
The horse snorted. James sensed her contentment with the appearance of the hovering orb. After the brief connection with Micah’s mare, he immediately knew the animal’s name.
The bobbing globe of light led the way down and across the valley. Arriving at the base of the hill, some people bearing torches approached them through the heavy snowfall.
“Let’s dismount,” Micah said, the wind picking up and blowing snow in their faces. Climbing off, he assisted James to the ground.
Staring up at the rise Anarqui was built on, James thought the incline made it impossible to climb. To make matters worse, everything was covered in a layer of ice.
“Cover that up,” Micah said, nodding at the light emanating from the medallion.
Seizing the cloth Micah tossed at him, James stuffed it into his pocket and concealed the glow. He wasn’t sure why the medallion was active. Perhaps getting acquainted with the horse had triggered it.
James counted three men in the posse. They were covered head to toe in white furs, their faces partially concealed behind bulky scarves.
“Quite a storm to be out in,” the first man said, his voice slightly muffled by his facial covering.
“Yes, it is,” Micah replied.
The spokesman for the band of men gestured towards the glowing orb hovering by the horse. “Don’t see those too often...unless you’re a caster.”
The orb drifted towards the men. Warm light revealed their faces and James saw hardness reflected in their eyes.
“Control your Stardrop Orb,” the spokesman demanded.
“Yes, of course.” Extending his arm, Micah whispered some words. Retreating from the agitated group, the orb settled into the shaman’s palm. Opening his pouch, he placed the orb inside, then pulled the drawstring tight.
“So, you are a caster,” the spokesman said as he looked Micah up and down.
“I am. But I am also the Shaman of Eyotamaka!” He punctuated his words by slamming the end of his staff on the ground and sending a shower of snow and ice into the air.
Micah’s aggressive display forced the spokesman back, the men with him muttering to each other. His statement seemed to make an impression on the men from Anarqui.
“I apologize. We were not told to expect your arrival,” the spokesman said. “You are most welcome in Anarqui, Micah of Eyotamaka.”
Micah nodded at him. “Thank you,” he said before glancing at James. “Bring the horse. We go on foot from here.” Without looking back, he walked towards a path James failed to notice.
Surprised that the man knew the shaman’s name, James concluded someone in Micah’s position must have established his reputation long ago among the different villages in Nilvanya. They may not know him by face but they would surely know his name. He didn’t know how long Micah had been a shaman but would wager he’d been one for a very long time.
“Come, Sheefa,” James said to the horse. Gripping the dangling strap, he tugged on it but it was hardly necessary. He knew the horse would follow them wherever they went. He felt the animal’s loyalty to Micah. It pleased him to know the horse now counted him among those she could trust.
James followed Micah along a crude path winding its way up and around the steep hill. Wide enough to walk side by side, James didn’t have the energy to catch up so he remained behind the shaman as they ascended towards Anarqui.
The path was carved into the hillside. Resembling a tunnel with the outer wall absent, a thick wooden railing ran along the open side to prevent people from falling off the edge. The rail was propped up by shafts of wood spaced every six inches or so. These upright beams driven deep into the ground reminded James of baseball bats. The path’s inside wall was reinforced by curved planks of wood stretching up to the ceiling. It was a preventative measure designed to keep the path from collapsing and cutting off the only route to and from the village.
Micah stopped. “We’ll spend the night in town and begin again tomorrow morning,” he said as James caught up to him. “Hopefully, the weather will improve. If it doesn’t, we’ll work on your meditation and practice what you’ve learned until it clears.”
Resuming their steady rise to the top, they passed a man clearing snow off the path with a shovel. He looked at them briefly, but it was more than enough time to see his eyes mirroring the icy weather all around.
“The people here aren’t the same as the ones in your village,” James said.
“How so?”
“Umm, they don’t seem as nice.”
The sound of Micah’s laughter filled the tunnel. “My young friend, you wouldn’t have a warm disposition either if you lived in a cold environment all the time.”
“Why would they want to live here when they could live in the summer zone?”
“Some do leave, but others choose to stay,” Micah answered. “Don’t judge them too harshly. They are honorable people and have business to tend to in this frigid land.”
“Whatever.” James couldn’t fathom any reason to live here when a more suitable climate was available.
They continued along the open tunnel. The heavy snowfall and steady wind slowed their pace but it was a great deal better than standing in the full brunt of the storm. James peered over the rail. Now a good distance from ground level, it would be nearly impossible to survive a fall from up here. Spotting several shapes sprinting across the wintry landscape, he watched the pack run towards the shelter of a nearby forest. Seconds later, a haunting, high-pitched howl resounded through the valley.
“Wolves,” Micah said. “They’re common in these parts.”
“I hope running with them isn’t part of the training.”
Micah looked at the young man. “It’s not. What you’ll be doing will be far more dangerous.”
James scanned Micah’s face but couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking. Before he could ask for an explanation, the end of the covered pathway came into view and Micah walked out and left him standing in the relative shelter of the open tunnel.
James trailed him onto the flat terrain at the top of the hill. His opportunity for clarification regarding Micah’s cryptic comment would have to wait; the blustering wind drowned out any attempt to speak.
The snow hit them with renewed ferocity. James saw a large, dark structure through the raging storm but didn’t see any signs of a village.
Robust bonfires marked the perimeter of the hilltop, the same fires he spotted from afar. Sheltered inside partially open cocoons of clear resin and clay, the fires were well protected from the elements. A man tended to one of the fires while another sat in a nearby hut.
James and Micah followed a route lit by covered torches on either side. The dark structure slowly came into view. It was a wall constructed from huge, vertically placed logs fastened tightly together. On the left side of the wall, a thin tower rose up beyond the top and served as a lookout post, though, how anyone could see through this storm, James could only wonder. Looking at the wall’s construction, he realized the village of Anarqui was actually a fort.
James stroked Sheefa’s face. He felt her nervous vibe and wanted her to know that everything was fine. Though in truth, he needed some reassurance himself. The grim attitude of the Anarqui villagers made him hesitant about what lay beyond the wall. He trusted Micah, but was glad to have the medalli
on in his pocket just in case. He may not have mastered it yet but he knew how to use it.
Approaching the wall, an opening appeared as a gate slid back and men came spilling out. Many had shovels and started cleaning snow off the path and clearing the area in front of the gate. Several came their way, and like the men they encountered at the bottom of the hill, they glared at them with cold stares and suspicious glances.
“Hello, travelers, you must have urgent business to be journeying in such a storm!”
Micah raised his voice in order to be heard over the wind. “We were caught after we began! We’re here to see Olivia!”
The disposition of the men gathered around changed entirely. “The shaman?” The men stepped aside and one waved them through. “You may enter!”
James followed Micah past the men and through the gate. Now beyond the wall enclosing the entire area, he gazed around at the snowed covered village. Anarqui had a random element in its design with structures of various shapes and sizes facing many different directions. Save for the men hanging around the gate, the village looked empty as if abandoned long ago.
Trudging through snow up past their ankles, they stopped in front of a stable. Micah pushed aside the large door and James stepped inside thankful to be out of the storm.
The wind screaming and resisting his attempt, Micah forced the door closed. “We’ll let Sheefa rest up here,” he said, rubbing the side of his horse.
“Who’s Olivia?” James asked, stomping his feet to dislodge the snow.
“She’s...”
Footsteps crossed the floor above, then a rotund man descended a flight of stairs. Approaching from across the stable, he waddled past the hay covered stalls sheltering a number of horses.
“Hello there. It’ll be two seeds per night.” Leading Sheefa to an empty stall, the man returned to finish his business.
