“Very well then… Let’s begin with introductions. We shall go right to left and stop in the middle.”
Zhealocera stood from her spot. She bowed to Freya, allowing her two long braids to fall over her shoulders as she did. “I am Zhealocera Hoshino, a Dákun Daju Enforcer-to-be.”
“Now that is a surprise.” Freya smiled as the girl sat. “I had not expected to see a Dákun Daju in the Temple.”
“And I had not expected to be taught by a Demon.” Zhealocera returned the smile. Freya waved for the other students to continue. One by one, they stood and told their names. Before I knew it, it was my turn. I stood and bowed to Freya.
“I am Xyleena, a Daughter of the Temple.” I sat just as the door opened again. In walked the white robed Judge I had seen several times yesterday.
“Ah! Perfect timing as usual, Zamora.” Freya laughed. Every student in the room started to whisper to each other about the Judge’s presence. Zamora glanced down at me as she stepped past. She stood beside Freya and leaned against the table. “I see you have all learned of Judge Zamora’s presence in the Temple.”
“Yeah. I didn’t exactly keep my presence here as secret as you did.” Zamora winked at the Wolf Demon.
“You haven’t changed a bit, old friend.”
“Excuse me, but how do you two know each other?” A boy at the back asked. Freya and Zamora looked at him, then each other.
“We go way back.” Freya smiled.
“Ah, but that is too long a story to weave in one class period that should be spent teaching.” Zamora said with a laugh.
“I requested Zamora’s presence here this morning to demonstrate dueling. After our little spar, I will have all of you will all try out various weapons until you find what you are comfortable with.”
“Shall we begin then?” Zamora asked. She flung off her Judge’s robes, revealing snug, black leathers and well-forged silver bracers, greaves, and breastplate each engraved with magnificently detailed scrolling. Freya motioned for me to vacate the middle of the room. Both teachers took up their arms; Freya a spiked chain, roughly a meter and a half long, and sickle fused as a kusarigama and Zamora two hooked, short swords called dueling blades.
They both moved to the middle of the room and took their stances. All eyes were on the duelists, waiting. Seconds ticked by like minutes, but neither moved.
In a burst of superhuman speed, Freya struck. The blow was blocked by Zamora’s blade. They circled each other and attacked again. Zamora got off two hits, one deflected by Freya’s chain, the other landed just above her elbow. Her wolfish eyes watched as the blood ran down her arm. She did nothing to staunch the flow. The two old friends continued their dance of blood and steel. Nothing else seemed to matter to them, just their opponent. Steel met steel with resounding clashes that echoed in the room. Each moved in a well-timed ballet of attack and parry. This display truly was the most ancient sport.
As soon as it had begun, it was over. Both fighters stood apart, breathless and smiling. Each wore cuts and blood from the other’s weapon, but none were serious. The on looking students were as silent as a crypt as they watched their teachers shake hands. Then a chorus of cheers and applause erupted. The two duelists turned to their spectators and bowed.
“All right, students!” Freya’s voice rose over the din. She waited as the clapping and cheers died away. “Now that you have had a view of the action, it is your turn to grab a piece of it. Line up along the wall and find a weapon on the table that you feel comfortable with. After you have chosen, return to the center of the room and sit. If you have any questions, feel free to ask either me or Zamora.”
I found my way into the crowd at the table. As I waited my turn to select a weapon, I studied Zamora. Something about being in the presence of the Honored Judge ate away at me, and I knew that we had met her before. Zamora must have sensed my gaze, for she turned to look into my eyes. Unbelievable! She had the same eyes as me; deep emerald green that shifted to gold.
“Did you have a question, Xyleena?” Zamora asked, finally looking away to sheathe her weapons. My gaze traveled to the Judge’s belt where her dueling blades were sheathed.
“I was just wondering if it is difficult to fight with two weapons.” I returned my gaze to her face as she leaned against a wall to think.
“It does take ambidexterity and a good deal of skill to dual-wield, but after you learn the correct techniques, you tend to have better odds than a fighter with a single weapon. You can attack twice to his once. Down fall of dual-wielding is the lack of shield to absorb heavy blows. If you decide to go with two weapons, you have to be quick, both physically and mentally to stay ahead of your opponent.”
“So dual-wielding is a sort of double-edged sword.” I said as I reached the table. I caught the smirks of both teachers before I diverted my attention to the weapons. There was a wide selection of hammers, axes, scythes, staves, swords, and more. I was breathless at the selection before me. I knew I could not handle the larger weapons because of the weight. And the chained weapons would probably do more damage to me in the long run. So it was either staves or daggers for me.
I picked a dagger from the table and weighed it in my hand. Something on the table caught my attention. I lay the dagger down and shuffled a few other weapons until two shimmering bars were revealed. As I studied these strange bars of metal, I remembered that I had had something very similar in my pack when I was found on the beach. I quickly dug into the new bag on my hip and removed both of the mysterious, metal bars. With a quick flick of my wrists, the bars unfolded. They were a pair of razor- bladed fans. Though rust had started to claim the blades, I could still make out the flowery pattern emblazoned on the leaves. I felt a grin creep along my lips. These are my weapons. I left the table and smiled at Zamora.
The Judge did not return the smile and shot a look to Freya.
“Those tessens are tough weapons to work with. How do they feel?” Freya asked. Her eyes held a strange look.
“I can’t quite describe it, but I feel like I have mastered them already.”
“Good. Looks like you and Zhealocera are the only two determined enough to seek dual wielding. She will be your sparring partner. Be careful though. Dákun Daju are far from gentle in a fight.” Freya smiled briefly and turned away. She shot Zamora a look over her shoulder before congratulating another student’s choice on weapons. I glanced at the Judge, curious to know what that look was about. Zamora appeared distracted as she gathered her robes before leaving the room in a hurry.
Freya called for the students’ attention. “You are all allowed to keep the weapons you chose today as your own so long as you do not abuse them. If you threaten another student with them or bear them outside this class room or the training grounds, you will be expelled. Do I make myself clear?”
A loud round of ‘Yes, Professor’ made Freya smile. The bells sounded their dismissal, so Freya waved for the students’ leave. I lingered behind the others, watching Freya as she straightened out the display of weapons. There was a familiarity about her as well; similar to the way I felt around Judge Zamora. I wanted to ask if we had met before, but the way she and the Judge were exchanging looks told me that I would not get any clear answers. Instead, I chose to turn and walk away.
I will find my answers elsewhere.
The proposed Temple was the size of a small city, and included many fortifications and weapons turrets for defense. The Arch Bishops and I set those plans aside and drew up something much more accessible and far less threatening in appearance for we wanted to invite anyone into our walls, not scare them away. Naturally, the king and his generals called the security of it into question. Finally, after a lengthy debate, we had all settled on building the less threatening Temple, but the king decreed it be built somewhere that could be easily defended.
– FROM “CREATING PEACE IN A HOSTILE LAND” BY PALAVANT MIRANDA
Dimitri watched as the island grew ever closer, admiring the way the waves crashed upon t
he jagged rocks in such a way to form a rainbow mist to shroud the sandy coast. A long dock of white detra wood jutted several meters out from the beach. It connected to a cobblestone path that lead the way up a carved cliff side filled with exotic fauna. The path climbed about two hundred meters upwards and eventually ended at the iron gates of the Temple of Five Souls.
The ferry would reach the dock soon. Of that, he was grateful. He had grown irritated with constantly playing High Prince Valaskjalf to the crew. The annoying pests never stopped asking about the battles he won or the women he kept for company. If Godilai and Vincent had not been there to intervene, Dimitri was certain he would have killed the crew.
Then there was the gold armor. He had worn the armor for the better part of two days now, and it had quickly become uncomfortable. It was a bit too snug on him, and parts of the plates dug into his joints. He was sure there would be bruises. Dimitri sighed. All that hassle for a measly diary. He snorted. The diary was the key. Without it, the Shadow Dragons could not be released.
“Do not lose your temper when you are in the Temple,” Godilai whispered, suddenly beside him. “You must act exactly like Prince Valaskjalf in the presence of the Priests. Failure to do so will jeopardize the reason for our appearance here.”
Dimitri shot her a glare. “You don’t say? I will worry about my part in this façade. You just steal the blasted diary.”
Godilai growled. “Watch what you say, Hume-aju.” She stormed away.
Dimitri punched the railing, leaving an impression of the golden gauntlet’s knuckles. “The sooner this is over, the better.”
“Prince Valaskjalf, we will be docking soon,” the captain of the scant ferry crew announced.
Dimitri waved for him to leave.
“Are you all right, Your Highness?”
Dimitri rolled his eyes then faced the captain. “I’m just feeling a bit ill.”
“Ah!” The captain nodded. “The sea flu. I’m sure you’ll be yourself once we’ve landed.”
“I can only hope,” Dimitri muttered, turning away. He heard the captain’s footsteps recede. “Idiot.”
Dimitri remained at the railing as the ferry made its final approach. The captain barked orders, and the crew hopped to their work. Soon enough the ferry was docked at the island home of the Temple of Five Souls. As Dimitri and his “royal” guard made their way off the dock, a woman in a white cloak passed him. He caught a glimpse of the look on her face; it betrayed recognition, and he was left to wonder if he had met the woman before.
Vincent handed him the reigns to the gold wyvern. “We are running late for your audience with the Palavant.”
Dimitri hopped into the saddle with little effort and pulled the reigns to turn the beast around. “Then let us be off.”
“Very well, your highness,” Vincent said as he mounted his own wyvern.
He gave the command and the royal guard took off, leaving the ferry crew and the puzzling woman. It was not until they were at the stone bridge that marked the halfway point up the cliff side that the woman in white was forgotten. Dimitri sighed as he relaxed in the saddle and took the time to observe the island from this new perspective. The road at other end of the bridge forked, forming a path down into a ravine. Tranquil turquoise water shimmered like a jewel as it reflected the sun’s light. Several children and some adults—each in garb fit for school—were gathered on one of the beaches, probably for a lesson since the water was still too cold for swimming.
Dimitri was forced to look away as the road curved and began its final climb to the summit where the Temple sat. During the ascent, Dimitri paid close attention to the soldiers that made up his escort, wary of any sign of nervousness to the challenges they were about to face. He was surprised to find that not one of them appeared to be second-guessing their decision to join him. So they rode on, listening to the cacophony of noise that was the waddle of armored wyverns making their way along the cobblestones.
It was several minutes before the escort reached the apex of the cliffs. Dimitri scoffed at the whistle of one of the soldiers as he gazed upon the white marble Temple, apparently for the first time. Dimitri allowed the men to admire the view while they drew nearer. At long last they arrived at the gates to the Temple grounds and a Lord Knight astride a cobalt wyvern rode up to greet them.
“Welcome to the Temple of Five Souls, High Prince Valaskjalf. How was your journey?” The Lord Knight reeled his wyvern about so he could walk with the escort into the grounds.
“Uneventful and tiresome,” Dimitri replied. He gazed around the grounds.
The Priests were already preparing for the festival. Crimson banners depicting a gold phoenix rising from a pool of flames were draped from window ledges and lampposts. Red and gold ribbon-like standards were set in holders high atop the pinnacles of the Temple, taking the places of black and purple ones. A group of Knights assisted the Priestesses with positioning a large torch in the yard outside one of the prism-shaped Temples. Others still were busy cleaning the walkways or planting flowerbeds. They glanced up from their work as the escort rode passed.
“You will have plenty of time to rest before the festival, Majesty.” The Lord Knight smiled over at him. “And the cooks have prepared a special meal for your arrival—glazed Aoao with stuffing and all the fixings. Good eating, that.”
Dimitri smiled. “Indeed it is. I can’t wait.” He did not realize that the Temple had such an exquisite menu. His mouth watered at the thought of the glazed pork awaiting him.
“How fares Palavant Celestia?” asked Vincent.
The Lord Knight’s mood turned somber. “She has grown deathly ill. Her doctors do not expect her to see her ninety-third year.”
“That is terrible,” Vincent said with a frown.
Dimitri nodded in agreement, though he really did not care. The dealings of the Palavant never interfered with his affairs, and he did not care about the passing of an old woman.
“Here we are, Majesty,” the Lord Knight said, reining in his wyvern. He dismounted and strode to the heavy oak doors of the central building.
Dimitri and his escort dismounted their beasts as well and followed the Lord Knight.
“This is the school portion of the Temple. The five separate Temples are all built around this building. Then the Priests’ and students’ dorms form the outer ring. Wonderful craftsmanship of the white marble, hmm?”
Dimitri nodded. “It must have taken a long time to construct this place. I wonder how the ancients pulled it off.”
“Same here. Ah! Here we are.” The Lord Knight stopped outside another set of oaken doors. “This is Palavant Celestia’s room. She wanted to speak to you when you arrived. After your meeting I’ll take you to the guest quarters so you can rest and wash up before dinner is served.”
“Thank you,” Dimitri said, slowly passing through the doorway.
The room he stood in was uncomfortably warm and dimly lit. The fireplace was raging, and thick curtains blocked the light from the windows. Dimitri removed his helm and wiped sweat from his brow.
“I apologize for the warmth,” a weak voice spoke from somewhere to his left.
A curtain was pulled aside, scattering the shadows. Palavant Celestia stared out the window. Dimitri studied the old woman. She was pale and covered in wrinkles from her long years.
“Is there a reason you wished to speak to me?”
Dimitri watched as she slowly shook her head.
“I merely wanted to see if Valaskjalf made it here without incident.” Celestia finally looked him in the eye. “It would seem that he is lost.”
“What do you mean? I am right here.” Dimitri frowned.
Again, Celestia shook her head. “You cannot fool me. The Valaskjalf I know does not stand before me.”
“You are more ill than your doctors admit to anyone. Maybe you should lie down, Palavant.”
“I think I would know my own nephew. Tell me—” She let the curtain drift close.
Panic stream
ed through Dimitri, and he was hard pressed not to show it.
“What have you done to Valaskjalf?”
“I am Valaskjalf Za’Car, High Prince of Ithnez,” Dimitri said firmly.
He could barely see Celestia shake her head.
“Why do you not believe me?”
“There is a long list of reasons. The first of which is—” She was forced to stop as a coughing fit racked her body. She was left gasping for air when it finally passed. “Your general appearance. You have red eyes, and your ears are pointed like a Dákun Daju.”
“Blast,” Dimitri muttered as he touched the tips of his ears.
A sad smile crept over the Palavant’s face. “Just tell me the truth. What have you done to my nephew?”
Dimitri sighed and dropped his hands to his sides. “He is dead.”
The old woman nodded slowly. “And will you now kill me for knowing your secret?”
Dimitri did not answer.
She sighed. “I know why you have come, doppelganger. You should know that the path you walk will only lead to your own destruction.”
His hands turned to fists and he shook as he exploded with barely contained rage. “You are wrong,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will succeed in my conquest and nothing will stop me.”
“You are half right,” said Celestia, moving to the bed in the corner of the room. “You will succeed in unleashing darkness, but you will be defeated.”
“How could you possibly know the future? Hmm?”
Celestia remained silent.
“Very well,” he sighed, crossed his arms. “Who do you think can actually defeat me?”
“She who bears the Light.”
Dimitri frowned at the Palavant’s answer. “Amorez?”
“No. Amorez’s blood.”
“You are not making any sense!” Dimitri exclaimed. “Amorez has no bloodline.”
She looked him in the eye and smirked knowingly. “Are you sure of that?”
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