Into the Fray: Volume 1 of The Sorcerers of Jhanvia Series (2 page)

The young one scoffed, “Except when it comes to his daughters.”

Kulon laughed a little and said, “I understand.” She paused for a few moments and then continued, “The hunter from Jasedic that delivered food the other day told me that your sister has been appointed to lead your father’s army.”

She perked up, her eyes betraying her surprise, “Really? That’s unexpected.”

“Time and experience change people…soften their rigidities. Even yours,” Kulon said with a knowing smile. “I think if you give them a chance, you might find that their love for you transcends their sense of duty.”

The young one sat quietly pondering her words. She had discovered over the years that it was always wise to rely on the elder’s insight.

The Nashil continued, “Just something to consider.” She shifted a bit to a more comfortable position as she changed the direction of her discussion. “You know, when word first came that you desired to join us many seasons ago, I must admit that I had significant reservations about accepting you. It is nearly unheard of for a member of a royal house, especially the House of Dhoya, to commit to the rigors of becoming a true mage. You were young and brash, with a lot of
royal baggage, but you came with eyes wide open to a world that exists beyond the mundane. Your talents and abilities are without doubt quite extraordinary and I believe that this
is
your true calling.”

A quiet smile of modesty graced the lips of the young woman.

The Nashil continued, “You came to us known as Princess Kaitra of Dhoya. Those of
our
family will now know you as Kaitra, daughter of the House of Three Moons.” She took from her pocket a pendant that hung on a strap of black leather and handed it to her. Larger disks, one of brass and the other silver, were placed over a smaller silver disk, representing the three moons that circled above. She said, “May the Old Ones keep you. Wear it well, dear child.”

The young woman was taken completely by surprise. She cradled the pendant in her hands, and then impulsively hugged her mentor, catching the master off guard and forcing a pleasantly startled smile to her face. “Thank you, Nashil Kulon. My body shakes with excitement and words...well…they have deserted me.”

“You are very welcome, my dear.”

Kaitra fondled the pendant in the short silence that followed as her mentor gathered her thoughts.

Kulon observed through a soft, sarcastic smile, “I see from the remnants of the door strewn across your balcony that you meditated tonight.”

“Yes, as every night,” Kaitra answered in serious tone, much embarrassed by her obvious lack of control.

“Good. Tell me what you saw.”

“Horrible images. Death and destruction were everywhere. Soldiers, disciplined and organized, were killing everyone indiscriminately. They were well trained, and it felt as if they fought with a single purpose.”

Kaitra closed her eyes in an effort to better focus her mind, unaware that her recall was being enhanced by the elder woman’s magics. She described that which her mind revealed, “A great sense of chaos—of wanton murder and violence. A boy…I tried to help him, but they killed him. His blood is all over my hands. I sense a powerful energy
that supports it, unseen, but very pervasive, like a dark cloud spreading over the land. There is smoke and fire…and pain.... I have been captured by them and taken to a dark place. A leader presents, finely dressed…he is surrounded by sorcery. He forces me to do things…evil things. Although I try with all my being, I am unable to resist his influence. Everyone I care for is in pain or dead. Finally, I’m able to break the magic and I try to escape, but he….”

She took a deep breath but did not come out of her trance.

“Continue child,” Kulon softly prodded.

“He kills me,” she emphatically announces.

“Go on,” the Nashil encouraged.

“Now all is quiet. A sword lies atop a woman lying in the grass. She is covered by a fine white cloth. She is dead. There is peace. The chaos has subsided and order has been restored.”

The young mage sprang from her trance with eyes wide. She looked up to see the elder deep in thought with her eyes closed, her fingers rubbing her forehead with purpose. She asked, “What is it I see, Nashil?”

“I have been seeing similar things for some time now. The time has come when those bent on destruction will combine and thrive off fear and weakness. They have amassed a significant force and they pose a great threat to all the peoples west of the Kirlapian Mountains. There’ll likely be a time in the very near future when
even we
will be tested. These are the things you see.”

“What must we do to stop them?”

“I do not believe that is our destiny.”

“Then what is to be done?”

Kulon smiled knowingly, “The wheel continues to turn, young one.
We
are to remain here and continue our work as before. You, however, have come to a crossroads. I believe it is time you left us and pursued your own path.”

Kaitra’s eyes projected her pain in hearing those words, “Leave... but I....”

The Nashil placed the first two fingers of her right hand gently across the lips of the confused young woman and explained, “Your destiny no longer lies in this place. You carry a talent that demands a certain level of guidance to bring it to the fore. This I have provided to you. Now it is time you take yourself into the world. It will develop and nurture your abilities, providing the knowledge and wisdom you will need to deal with the complex diversity of challenges that life brings.”

The master looked into the anxious, reddening eyes that returned an anticipated forlorn silence, and she continued, “You fear that which lies before you. I know.” A reminiscent smile broke the air between them. “There was a time, longer ago than I wish to admit, when I felt as you do now. Nashil Netres, may blessings be upon his memory, came to me one evening to give me a choice of whether to leave and pursue my own destiny, or to stay and assist him in his work. It was the most difficult decision I had ever faced. It was so important to me that his teachings continue, but I realized that as an individual, I would never progress to my fullest potential if I stayed. So, after much internal deliberation, I chose to leave.”

The old woman paused briefly, and then spoke with wry amusement, “The bastard had known all along what my decision would be. He said that if I had chosen to remain, he would have thrown me out anyway.”

The briefest hint of a laugh popped out from the lips of the sad young face.

The Nashil continued more seriously. “He wanted to see if I had the courage to take my talents to their limits. To my credit, I had the foresight to see my potential.” The wise woman took Kaitra’s hands. “And so it will be with you. The strength within your heart will see you through the difficult times. The power of your sorcery will protect you.”

The elder rose with the difficulty one expects to accompany her age and continued, “I want you to leave immediately. I have spoken with Cliona of Alondra. The people of her village will provide you with
traveling clothes and supplies. They will put you up for a few days while you prepare.”

“I wish to say goodbye to Misha and Tolon.”

The old woman said in a serious tone, “Please do as I ask and leave now. I will express your sentiments to them.” She opened the door and stepped across the threshold.

The young one begged, “Where will I go?”

The old woman turned back to her and smiled. “Listen to your spirit. It will guide you to the people and places that will fulfill your destiny. Hold us in your heart, dear child.”

Kaitra smiled half-heartedly to herself as she watched her away. She closed the door quietly and then stopped for a moment to gaze with fondness at this tiny chamber she had called home for so long. It was part of an ancient grand chateau that was formerly the home of a local ruling vizier of the Old Order. While much of the original structure had remained intact, a large portion of the inner court and the east wing had been in ruins for over a millennium, and had been restored to habitability only recently. The feel of the architecture was very ancient and mysterious, with large irregular stones carved with laser-like precision, placed together without any binding material, and with such care that not even a breath of air could pass between. It evoked a sense of order and civilization not known in this region for centuries.

She walked out onto the balcony, looking across the valley for the last time. The light of the sun provided just the slightest hint of its former glory as the tiny crescent Moon of Chalal gave chase. The evening breeze gently carried the sweetly pungent odors of the frotil that grew wild in the adjacent open field. Smoke from cooking fires in nearby villages painted the faintly amber sky with semi-opaque dark stripes that turned and flattened out as if they had reached a crystal ceiling.

Before her were the lands known as Kirlapia, a territory spanning the western two-thirds of the continent. It was a wild, untamed
place, far different from the long established, sophisticated cultures that dominated the eastern lands of her birth. In villages and small towns, chaos was too frequently the best description of daily life. Large nomadic warrior tribes randomly terrorized the most unfortunate and small bands of outlaws could be found throughout the land. Difficult times had driven
so
many to embrace such desperate measures. She had frequently wondered why anyone would consciously choose to live in this place where violence and death haunted every turn.

Her mind reminisced about her experiences since she fled the lands of her father. The kind and gentle people of Alondra, a small agricultural village not far from the temple, were always welcoming. And the Forests of Jhalaherne, a place of clear mountain streams, large meadows and majestic trees located in the Kirlapian Mountains.

Her thoughts carried her to a most magical place where she had rested on her journey to the temple—a small grassy clearing surrounded by the tallest of sycamore trees, whose contorted branches twisted and turned as they strained to touch the sky. The clearing was bisected by a small cold stream that quietly bubbled as it passed over a natural barrier of rocks into a clear pool. It was in this place, as she lay on the grass looking up at the clouds that quickly passed, changing shapes as if to her will, that she first felt a deep sense of belonging. Just as her mind allowed her to take a purposed breath of the clean scent of the trees, a loud shrieking from above abruptly returned her to the here and now.

She looked up to see a hawk circling the area around the temple in search of prey. She watched it soar effortlessly, its powerful brownish-red wings bouncing gently on the day’s last thermals, softly illuminated by the light of the many torches now being lit about the temple. After a few moments, it disappeared over the cliff into the light of the Moon of Talera, its last shriek eerily touching off a chill that set off the nerves in her neck and shoulders.

A few hours later, the master chef followed two of his young female assistants as they each carried a large tray of steaming cooked meat from the kitchen. They placed them on a long wooden serving table located against the back wall of a large room that was open to the night sky. The big middle-aged man, whose belly could barely be contained by the puffy white peasant shirt that spilled out over his belt, stood back surveying the bounty of colorful fruits and vegetables, as well as an assortment of fresh herbs. As his passion was not just the food, but more its artful expression, he began dutifully arranging them around the platters of meat in a most enticing display. With the table as his canvas, he created splashes of flowing color and dimension. He had a truly unique talent.

“It all smells wonderful, Tromm,” Kulon offered the praise as she approached him from behind. “When will you be ready to serve?”

With his eyes fixated on the task before him, he replied, “Just give me a few minutes.”

She watched him for a moment, smiled and said just loud enough to be heard as she walked away, “Always so fussy.”

He looked at her and smiled as he continued his work.

The Nashil reached the center of the room and looked up at the most beautiful Moon of Talera that floated silently above, its silvery light illuminating everything with a soft glow. The bright white marble floor seemed to grab hold of the moon’s light and thrust its reflection back toward the sky. She looked around to see her forty or more students and apprentices slowly making their way in. The darkened areas of the temple were lit by torches strategically placed so their light would only minimally interfere with the light from the moon.

Thoughts of the good fortune that had come to her all those years ago when this place had come into her life, seemingly from out of nowhere, brought a soft smile to her face. The purpose of the Temple of Shaylan was to fill a void left from so many centuries of conflict and chaos. It was a place where those so motivated could seek advice and guidance that would point them toward their optimal direction in life,
which was a service that had been performed by village elders in times long forgotten. Kulon’s special gift for nurturing and counseling those under her influence was widely known and universally praised. The temple was, in all ways that mattered, her home.