The Master was addressing his charges, “…and should be afforded every courtesy as our guests and allies. Furthermore, Palomar has declared his intention to join the Order with the next group of initiates. We have given the King-priest of Chelpa something to consider in his own territory, as he invades our free lands.
“We shall break camp tomorrow and head east to the Dawn Way, then north to Synirpa. The castle at Windhollow Rock is undermanned, and we will help fortify it until reinforcements arrive. Battle may find us, however, so steel yourselves, men. Honor to Criesha.”
“Honor to Criesha!” the crowd repeated. Sir Golddrake and the other riders headed back toward the main camp, but the congregation was slow to disperse. Discussions continued, mostly about the winged stranger. Some speculated he was a visitor from the heavens of Mount Celestia, others an emissary from their goddess. Most agreed, however, his presence was a clear sign their cause was favored.
Was this the being Ebon Khorel was looking for? Jaiden tried to squeeze his way up to the departing horsemen, but realized the crowd and his leg conspired to make it hopeless. He decided to remain at the meadow, at least until the masses cleared out. He would speak to Sir Golddrake about the details of his interrogation later.
The gentle spring day called to him, and Jaiden slipped between idle soldiers until he came to a collection of boulders marking the level edge of the field. Beyond them, the ground sloped downward until eventually dropping off the hillside. The surrounding mountain range loomed purple in the distance, a reminder of how insignificantly a single moment stacked against the eternal patience of the earth. Still, men are not mountains, Jaiden thought, and he was content in that moment to reflect on the grandeur around him.
High grasses grew around the rocks where he sat and moss licked their faces, making them an ideal spot to enjoy the vista. He wasn’t the only one who came to this conclusion. Saffron approached and settled on a waist-high, smooth-topped boulder. She was holding a flower up to her face by the stem; its purple petals, kissed with white, caressed her cheeks as she inhaled its fragrance. Her eyes acknowledged him, but she didn’t speak.
Jaiden straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “That’s a beautiful blossom.”
“Jaiden,” she nodded her greeting, the remnants of a smile on her lips. “I am pleased to see you are no longer confined to your tent. That is good. The fresh air will help you mend.”
After she sat on the boulder next to his, he scooted closer. Nodding at her flower, he asked, “Did you pick it yourself? Where did you find it?”
“No, Baron Rogan gave it to me. It is a Bellflower; they typically grow in high places.”
“Who is Baron Rogan?” Jaiden inquired, ignoring the extraneous floral information.
“He journeyed with us from Chelpa. He is involved with the resistance there, and came along to help Amurel with strategic planning.”
“Hmm, I don’t think you can really trust anyone from over the Chelpian border.”
“And what about me, Jaiden?” Saffron lowered the bloom to her lap. “I am not from your kingdom. Can I be trusted?” Her voice carried a sharpness, warning of dangerous waters.
“Well, where I’m from isn’t really a kingdom…”
“Pssh. You know that is not the point.”
“Saffron, the point I’d like to make is that if you would let me, I could do a lot more to make you happy than simply pick you a purple flower.” He leaned as he spoke, narrowing what distance remained between them.
“Is that so?” her tone deepened, matching his.
“I know you think I’m young, but I know a lot for my age. I could make you feel good.”
“Jaiden?” Her voice was little more than a whisper, her lips only a foot-span from his.
“Yes?”
“You are not unpleasant to look at, but you have no idea how to talk to a woman.” Saffron turned her head and slid off the rock. She started walking toward the camp, hips swaying enticingly in her blue skirt. Without looking back, she delivered a few final words. “Sir Golddrake kept speaking of you during our ride. You should pay him a visit.”
Jaiden watched her leave, shaking his head in disbelief even as he enjoyed the view. What was it going to take to get through to her? He sighed and rested a while longer on the boulder before summoning the energy to make the trip back.
When he did reach the camp’s center, he found a pair of guards posted in front of Sir Golddrake’s tent. It seemed unusual, but when he gave them his name, he was directed to enter. The winged creature stood facing Sir Golddrake, who turned toward Jaiden as the tent flap closed behind him.
“Jaiden, I want you to meet Palomar. He is an Aasimar, come to us from another realm.”
Palomar formed a fist with his right hand and placed it over his chest, bowing his head in greeting. His skin was alabaster-white and flawless, his hair and eyes the color of wrought gold.
“Palomar,” Sir Golddrake continued, “this is Jaiden Luminere, the one Criesha guided me to find.”
Jaiden was mesmerized by the otherworldly Aasimar. He managed to nod in attempted politeness, though his gaze never broke from the stranger. He had wings like an eagle, folded against his shoulders, and stood half-a-head taller than either man.
“I have been told of you, and your pain.” Jaiden heard his voice, but Palomar’s lips didn’t move. “I am sorry for your injury.”
“What the…?”
“Oh,” Sir Golddrake chimed in, shaking his head. “I meant to warn you. Palomar is a telepath; he communicates with thoughts. I wanted you to meet, especially since you’ll be entering the Order together. You might also have things to teach one another.”
“I’m not sure what I could—”
“Captain Millstone told me about your display of swordsmanship yesterday,” Sir Golddrake offered.
“I have not lifted a weapon since coming to this world, some years ago,” Palomar communicated. The voice in Jaiden’s mind was sure and level, a relaxing combination. “Now that I am joining the war, I would very much like to learn. In turn, I may know songs you could benefit from, and memories of my homeland you may find useful as well.”
“Well, I’m not much of a singer, but I would be happy to share some of what I know,” Jaiden answered.
Palomar smiled.
“Excellent,” added Sir Golddrake. “I have arranged for you both to share a tent with the other initiates, so you can bond with those you will be learning alongside. Palomar, I look forward to continuing our discussion on the trail tomorrow. Jaiden, I have reserved a few hours this afternoon to work on your horsemanship. Please report to the quartermaster after the midday meal. We will have an opportunity to speak of other things then, as well. For now, I must take a short rest. The journey has exhausted me.”
“As you wish.” Jaiden bowed awkwardly, then followed Palomar, who must have intoned his farewell to Sir Golddrake’s mind alone, out of the pavilion.
“I can give you a lesson now, if you wish.” Jaiden didn’t want to sit idly for the next hour, waiting for his chance to finally get on horseback.
“That would please me – like you, I find myself eager to learn.” Palomar’s astuteness caused Jaiden to wonder if he was able to read thoughts as well. He would have to keep on guard until the Aasimar proved himself trustworthy.
Jaiden led them to Captain Millstone’s tent, where the officer graciously lent them a pair of sparring weapons. Soldiers turned to stare at Palomar whenever they walked by, finally compelling Jaiden to speak. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“Everyone gawking,” Jaiden replied, as if it was obvious. “Minding you, instead of their own matters.”
“I look different, and they’ve never seen my kind. It will pass as I become familiar.” Palomar’s tone was convincingly indifferent. “From what Baron Rogan tells me, the looks would have been far worse before my transformation.”
“Transformation?”
�
�Yes.” Palomar stopped, and Jaiden halted a few steps after. “I suppose there are a few things I should tell you, since we are entering the Order together. Sir Golddrake believes you are special, and I would like the opportunity to discover what he feels, but doesn’t yet know. I would like us to become friends.”
“Well, I’ve never heard it put so bluntly. Thank you for the offer. I cannot just declare us friends, but if we work closely and get along doing so, I don’t see why we couldn’t end up as such. Shall we?” Jaiden gestured back to the path they were walking. “We’re not far from the stables and pasture, and there’s an empty corral that suits our purpose.”
“I shall follow your lead.” Palomar took slow strides, since each of his easily matched three of Jaiden’s shuffles. He waited until the horses were within smelling distance before venturing back to Jaiden’s previous question.
“I am not the only one of my kind on your world, though I may be the only to reclaim the form you now see. I was one of a company of Aasimar punished for a choice we made. We were cursed by our Lord, given hideous, decrepit bodies, and stripped of all memories of our home on Mount Celestia. Our existence became suffering, made more unbearable by the singular knowledge that we used to be something better – we knew irrefutably that we’d suffered loss, though we could not remember what.
“We were banished and sent to this realm; all who beheld us despised our grotesqueness. Unable to defend ourselves, many were killed until the King-priest of Chelpa found a use for my kind, which he called ‘Dampers.’ One of the lucky ones, I was never discovered by such men, and made my way through the wild to the foot of the Nerram Orodruin – the Firewall Mountains.”
They had reached the corral, but Jaiden didn’t want to interrupt the Aasimar’s tale. “I was drawn to a specific crack in the earth, though I didn’t know why. Within this fissure I made my home, kept warm by the magma that flowed from its depths. Over time, the strangest thing happened.”
Palomar’s pitch rose slightly. “The longer I dwelled in this place, the more memories of my previous existence returned. It began with segments of a tune, then series of images, and finally entire songs. I rediscovered the magic I had known as an Aasimar, and eventually a new song formed in my mind – we call it the ‘Song of Redemption.’ After singing this complex and wonderful harmony, my body changed back to the one before you.”
Palomar’s story enthralled Jaiden, transporting him back in time to when his father told him snippets of old sagas at bedtime. “That’s incredible,” he said, returning to the present. “Do you think something in the cave affected you?”
“I do now, after meeting Baron Rogan. I wasn’t careful when I first recovered my wings, and was spotted during flight. Rumors spread quickly, and luckily he found me before the agents of the King-Priest. He shared his experience in Blackthorn Prison, and how many Dampers were held there. He knew of one other who made the transformation, and said the energy from the ore they mined underneath the prison, and ultimately the channeling of the King-priest, triggered that Damper’s memory as well.”
Jaiden rolled his eyes. “Well, it seems like this ‘Baron’ fellow knows a little something about everything.”
“I am sorry to have droned on. Please, I am eager to learn what you can show me.” Palomar extended his arm toward the empty corral.
“Right.” Jaiden flipped him a wooden sword. “First, I want to show you some of the various fighting stances you can use, and the advantages of each.”
Jaiden spent the following hour teaching nuances of swordplay to the Aasimar, who seemed to have an insatiable thirst for learning. They were enjoying themselves immensely, having lost all sense of time, when eventually Sir Golddrake approached on horseback.
Amurel watched for a while before making his presence known, impressed by the imposing form of the Aasimar on the offensive, as well as the absolute fluidity with which Jaiden manipulated his sword, regardless of his hampering injury. Amurel’s tutelage was aimed at mitigating Jaiden’s weakness, and the work would not be easy, so he finally cut in.
“Ho!” he called from just beyond the pen’s gate. “Are you ready for riding lessons?”
Jaiden was demonstrating a wrist rotation, but looked up when he heard Amurel’s summons. He raised a hand in acknowledgement, then traded words with Palomar before they both made for the gate.
Once they were closer, the Aasimar addressed them. “Sir Golddrake, Jaiden Luminere, I ask your leave to ruminate on all you have shared with me today.”
Both men nodded at the Aasimar, who trotted a few steps past Amurel’s horse before flapping his wings and taking flight, quickly spanning the encampment. They watched for several seconds, Amurel envious of the being’s freedom of movement.
“That whole ‘talking in my head’ business will take some getting used to,” Jaiden said.
“Assuredly so,” Amurel agreed. “The world is full of wonders, Jaiden. As for the matter at hand – you learning to ride – first tell me, do you have much experience?”
“I’ve been on horseback a few times, but cannot claim to truly know what I was doing.”
Amurel nodded. “All things considered, the beginning is a fine place to start. Follow me to the stables, and I can show you how to saddle your mount.” Watching Jaiden struggle to make up ground behind him, Amurel felt pity, even though he had been crippled from birth. He imagined it a greater frustration to fail at that which had once come easily than to simply aspire to the unreachable.
Once they arrived at the stables, Amurel dismounted and looped his reins on a hook in one of the wooden posts. He patted his steed’s neck reassuringly before turning his attention to finding a suitable mount for his protégé.
“Each horse is a valuable member of our family, Jaiden. Of course they are a financial investment as well, but should be appreciated for their courage and labor, and treated with respect. My stallion’s name is Bastion, and we have been safely through many adventures over the years. Unfortunately, we had several animals return from the most recent mission without their riders.” He stopped in front of the stall housing a white-and-grey-flecked specimen.
“Ah, Inferno. How are you this afternoon, boy?” Amurel stroked the slender bridge of the horse’s nose, then motioned for Jaiden to come closer. “Here is a sturdy lad for you. Don’t let his name scare you; he’s even-tempered, but swift as a forest fire. Grab his bridle, there, and slide it over his head.”
Amurel opened the hinged plank to the stall and patiently instructed his pupil on how to outfit and saddle his mount, adjust the stirrups, check his hooves, and other steps of general grooming. Jaiden indicated he had no idea taking care of a horse was so complicated, but held an immediate fondness for Inferno, who seemed to enjoy licking his hand.
Next came the basics of mounting, which Amurel knew from experience were not going to be simple for Jaiden. He had no problem reaching the saddle, but lifting his left leg into the stirrup when his right could not support him proved tricky.
“You’re going to have to use your upper body strength to hold on until you can brace with your left heel.”
Jaiden slipped on the first few attempts, before finally succeeding. Inferno whinnied at the shifting failures, but remained patient with his new rider. Getting his left foot firmly in the stirrup was only half the battle for Jaiden. Amurel noticed the wincing that every movement elicited, though his student didn’t complain.
From his rigid, standing position in the stirrup, Jaiden still had to swing his right leg over the rump of his mount. He hesitated to follow instructions, as a failed try at this maneuver would no doubt be excruciating.
“Perhaps we should improvise,” Amurel conceded. “Try sitting on the saddle first, then take your foot out of the stirrup and slide your right leg over in front of you.”
Jaiden seemed much more willing to comply with this direction. Slowly, with his jaw tight and one hand poised for balance, he used the other to drag his injured leg over the horse’s back. His f
orehead beaded with sweat from the effort, but finally Jaiden sat atop Inferno, ready for his next lesson.
“Grab the reins, give me a moment to mount Bastion, and I’ll lead us back to the corral.” Amurel took Jaiden through the proper riding postures, how to steer and give commands to his horse, and transition from walking to trotting. Despite the repetition and regular grimaces at the jostling of his injured leg, Jaiden took to it with admirable persistence.
Amurel discovered he took many things for granted, having gained knowledge of horsemanship during his upbringing, yet found pleasure and pride as his protégé grasped a new concept or advanced a skill. He remembered what it was like to learn firsthand the animal’s capacity for both strength and subtlety of movement, and to forge a bond of anticipation and empathy. He became so wrapped up in teaching that the hours dissolved, unnoticed. Not until daylight had severely faded did awareness of the afternoon’s unmarked passage strike.
“I must apologize, Jaiden. I did not intend to push you so hard to start.”
“I don’t mind. I want to learn,” he called out, bringing Inferno’s trot to a halt beside Bastion.
“Good.” A thought crept into Amurel’s mind, and after a moment of consideration, he gave it voice. “I know you’re not ready to join the cavalry, but you would learn more quickly riding with us than poking around with the infantry. I’m going to transfer you from Captain Millstone’s command to mine, if you think your leg is up to it. Once we reach Windhollow Rock, you, Palomar, and the other initiates can finish your preparations to officially join the Order.”
“Wonderful!” Jaiden smiled. Even now, he was still concentrating on his recent lessons, clicking and pulling Inferno’s reins, trying to get his horse moving backward and sideways simultaneously.
“Very well. Let us retire the horses. They’ve worked long too, and need rest for tomorrow’s journey. I am overdue for a planning session with my lieutenants, but I want to see you at the stables at sunrise.”
Shiver the Moon Page 14
