“My granddaughter. She cared for me when he was in Mar. We became
very close. He vowed if I told anyone about his growing powers and what he had
done, he would destroy her. I couldn’t risk it. I found this cave a few weeks
after I left Belor and have used it ever since, waiting to die. But God has
spared me for some reason.”
“But why would God do this to you?”
“Oh, Kelln. God did not do this to me. Man did. God gave me life
and a family, but men took it away. God gave Belor beauty, but men took it
away.”
“How do you stand it? Everything you have has been taken from
you.” Kelln was bewildered. He had never met such a man like this before.
“Remember, young friend,” Alastair continued. “Don't ever let
others determine your worth. That is what brings pride. Always remember what
you have inside is only determined by you. Evil men can change your
circumstances and surroundings. They can belittle and hurt you. They can take
your money, property, and loved ones, but they can never take away what God has
given you inside. That is how I live. That is how I survive.” A glow surrounded
the exiled man as he talked in a gruff voice.
“The power,” Kelln said, remembering Darius’s abilities. “You are
glowing.”
Alastair’s laugh filled the cave. “So you say. I cannot see it.
Isn’t that ironic?”
Kelln told Alastair about Darius and his newfound abilities. Alastair
listened in silence and seemed strengthened by the news. He explained to Kelln
the responsibility of those born with the gift of pow
er and
that Darius would face many hard decisions as he learned to deal with it.
“It has been a long day for both of us, my new friend. There are
some extra blankets and skins in the corner behind the table. You are welcome
to find a place to rest.” Alastair walked slowly toward his own bedding.
Kelln sat dazed at what had just transpired. Life and its meaning
were starting to change before his eyes. The truth seemed to radiate from this
tired, gnarled old man— a truth he had never expected but needed to understand
more about. The words Alastair had shared felt much more alive in him than the
words the Preacher and Alessandra spoke. They made sense, and they felt good.
Especially in contrast to his suffering, this new idea of personal hope lifted
his soul closer to where his upbeat attitude used to be before he went to
Belor.
He had to reach Darius and share with him the things Alastair had
taught him. He needed to help his friend learn about and accept the
responsibilities of his emerging powers. That would be his purpose now.
As Kelln sat and thought, the warmth of the fire and ordeal of the
day overcame him, and he drifted off to sleep himself. It was a deep and
dreamless slumber.
A few hours later, a sweet aroma filled Kelln’s nostrils. Sausage
and a hint of potatoes. He savored it a moment before opening his eyes.
Alastair was pouring a warm drink from a pot on the stove.
The sound of the storm had abated during the night, and all was
quiet for a while with two relative strangers enjoying their meal together.
After finishing, they talked for hours of Anikari and the Realm, of religion
and God. Alastair seemed to be a river of fresh information that Kelln soaked
in. He retired that next evening mentally and emotionally exhausted, and this
time he did dream. He dreamed of faraway places he wasn't sure existed.
He woke in the morning feeling fresh and alive again. The world
was a brighter place. His scars from the Preacher— both mental and physical—
had receded to the back of his mind.
“You rested well?” asked Alastair, with a smile.
“Oh yes. It was fantastic!” exclaimed Kelln. Then he paused. “I
found God.”
“Where did you find Him?” asked Alastair with a small smile across
his face.
“I know many people seem to search for God. Someone said I would
find him in Belor. Others try to find him in the mountains or in the cities.
But from what you said last night about the things people couldn't take from
you, I would say that I found God in here.” Kelln pointed to his chest, “He was
always here. I found him in my heart. I now have a purpose I believe in.”
The old man smiled for a moment, his eyes buried in a mass of
age-old wrinkles. He walked to where a small door made from branches and vines
wedged into one of the cave walls and pushed it open. Sunlight streamed in,
almost blinding Kelln. He blinked a few times, then shadowed his eyes with his
hand and walked to the door. It exited onto the back of a small hill.
Kelln found the view breathless. He stood amazed that the dark,
foreboding clouds, piercing wind, and monstrous thunder did not leave any scars
on the land. Instead, he saw deep blue skies, brilliant sunlight, and a rare
light feathery blanket of pure-white spring snow. The world seemed new and
refreshed. It seemed as if all evil and darkness had been washed away. Light
green buds filled most of the trees and stood out in dark contrast to the late
spring snow.
Kelln walked out for a few minutes on his own, catching a rabbit
with a bow that Alastair had in his cave. Alastair took the animal, dressed it
and cooked it. It tasted good to fill Kelln’s stomach with a heavy meal. His
strength seemed to multiply, and he felt inside, as well as outside, that
nothing would control him again.
Alastair didn't ask Kelln when he would go, so Kelln took a few
weeks to fully rebuild his strength. Each day he went out of the cave, walking
farther and farther. Small leaves were beginning to show on the early blooming
aspens. One day Kelln returned from walking around the forested area with a
clean-shaven face and half a dozen fish. His strength had grown, and though he
still showed some outward signs of bruises, he felt strong and healthy once
again.
“Alastair, I must be going soon.”
“I know, my friend. I can tell you are getting restless. Eat with
me tonight, and then leave tomorrow. You must get out of the forest before
another spring storm hits. It was a dry winter, but spring brings some awful
thunderstorms. The river will swell its banks soon.”
Later that day while eating, Alastair looked up with a jolt and
moved towards the door.
“What is it?” asked Kelln.
“There is someone out there. We must put the fire out. They will
notice the smoke.”
Kelln helped Alastair cover the fire in a way so as to not let any
new smoke rise up out of the cave. They peered out of the door. Off in the
distance of the setting sun, Kelln followed the outline of five men, looking as
if they were searching for something. They walked with a purpose, dressed in
Belorian uniforms and carrying heavy swords at their sides. They approached
closer.
Kelln felt terror rise again at visions of being held in the
dungeons, but his newfound faith gave him a reassuring calm. “I am going out to
investigate,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” He grabbed the sword
from Alastair’s shelf and wrapped his cloak around him.
The old man nodded. Kelln slipped out to some trees and peered
into the lowering sun, shielding his eyes. Out of the stillness of the evening
he heard a scream off to his right. A girl! The men looked up also but didn't
seem to care. With swift movements Kelln moved from tree to tree. The ground
had dried from the storms but was still soft and easy to move on.
He heard the scream again, this time yelling for help. The painful
cry sounded familiar.
Alessandra! How could it be?
Kelln’s heart
pounded, and his face and palms sweated with nervousness even in the cool
evening air. The sun dropped behind the trees, readying itself for another
night’s sleep.
Kelln thought he made out something moving behind a tree. A man
running away, looking like a shadow in the failing sunlight. He heard the
scream again. It was from the direction the man had just come from. Kelln forgot
to take cover now and darted out across the sparse ground toward the sound. His
soft shoes crushed decomposing leaves and fallen pine needles. He came to a
small rise in the land and spotted someone a few feet below rubbing her leg.
Her dark hair covered her face in front and flowed down over a dark brown coat
in back. The person turned around and Kelln gasped.
“Alessandra,” he whispered, not moving.
With guilt she stared up at him with tears in her reddened eyes.
She looked so lost and alone. So hurt.
“I’m sorry,” was all she whispered.
Kelln took a step forward and was shoved from behind. He rolled
down the small hill and tried to regain his footing, slipping on the slick,
mud-covered ground instead. In an instant three men grabbed him with rough hands.
They shoved him into the dirt with no concern for his safety and took his bow,
arrows, and knife away. Kelln struggled against them and kicked out at another.
He might be small, but he had learned to defend himself a long time ago. He
tried to wiggle out of their arms.
One of the larger men brought his arm back and struck the side of
Kelln’s head hard. Stars exploded around Kelln, and he reeled to the side. One
of the other men grabbed his hands roughly, tied them together, and pushed him
up against a tree.
As a trickle of blood rolled down his face, he looked over at
Alessandra, who sobbed into her hands. One of the men walked over to her and
yanked her up off of the ground.
“You did a fine job, Alessandra. Your father would be proud of
you,” said the man.
Kelln was confused, trying to figure out what happened. He didn’t
think he had ever met Alessandra’s father. Had she turned him over to the
Belorians again?
“If it wasn't for her,” said one of the other men to Kelln, “we
would have never found you, traitor.”
“We knew you would come running to help her,” said another. “She
has that effect on people.”
Kelln couldn't believe what he heard. He looked at Alessandra and
opened his mouth as if to say something but couldn't figure out what to say.
She continued to look back at him with red and swollen eyes, then looked over
to where three other men walked down the embankment, holding Alastair between
them. He looked weak and helpless.
“Why him?” Alessandra blurted out.
Alastair turned towards her sound, “Alessandra,” he whispered,
throat raw with emotion. “It’s been such a long time.”
“You know her?” asked Kelln.
“Grandfather! I am so sorry. I didn't know,” cried Alessandra. “I
didn’t know.”
“Grandfather?” Kelln repeated, paused, and looked stunned. He
gazed from Alastair to Alessandra, realization dawning, “The... Preacher’s...
daughter?”
A REUNION
T
he Black Forest became dark and dreary. Evergreen pines and
towering firs kept the sky hidden most of the time. The undergrowth was thin
this time of year. The leafed plants were just beginning to bud again with
early spring rains. Darius could sense a deep presence in the trees, but
nothing that affected him further than the far reaches of his mind.
Having discovering his magical abilities less than a year earlier,
he was still trying to determine the extent of what he could do. One thing for
certain he had learned was that his power responded to him in times of great
need and when he felt threatened or angry. The power was hard to control and
even harder to know how to work with. He knew the men talked about it behind
his back, and he had not formally or verbally accepted the fact that he was a
wizard, but he had to admit deep down inside that it was looking that way.
Magic was not looked on favorably in the Realm, especially in
Anikari. Ever since the wizard rebellion centuries before, the Realm had been
fairly successful in keeping magic outside of its borders. Darius knew the
Empire of Gildan and the Kingdom of Arc had no such compunctions against magic,
and it operated openly there.
He pushed the senses of his mind outward around him now. The deep
forest was rumored to be magical, and myths and stories were told of the old
days when things happened in the Black Forest that were not explained. As he reached
his mind out, he felt another presence—one he was sure was magic. He didn’t
know what it was, and afraid to alert another person of his own presence, he
pulled back mentally until the power sat inside him once again.
Marching through the forest was hard. They had packed light, but
still each night setting up camp and then dissolving it in the morning took
more time that he would have liked. A strong storm had caught them a few weeks
earlier, and the ensuing mud slowed the party dramatically.
Darius was anxious to get to Belor and see what the troubles there
were about. He had heard about the Preacher from his father before last
summer’s training season in the Superstition Mountains. Belor was larger than
Denir, but he couldn’t imagine having any problem with his forty men securing
the town and taking the Preacher in.
The men caught small game in the forest to eat and found a few
small streams for fish to supplement the food they had brought with them from
Denir. The nights were warming slightly, but the men still needed campfires for
warmth.
One night after many of the men had retired, Darius sat next to
Mezar. He didn’t feel a need to keep Mezar tied up, and the man didn’t seem to
want to go anywhere. Darius kept him by his side so when he returned to Anikari
he would meet the King with his Gildanian prisoner in tow. Even so, something
else seemed to keep Mezar close to Darius. It was something Darius hadn’t been
able to explain to himself.
Darius engaged his prisoner in conversation. “Have you ever seen
the Everlasting Meadows, Mezar?”
“Yes. Once as a small boy my grandfather took me to the Black
Lake. We journeyed around the eastern edge until we stood on the edge of the
meadows at the border of our two kingdoms. He told me to look out across the grasslands
and remember that as the meadows are everlasting, so we as people are
everlasting.”
“What did he mean by that?”
“I am not sure. But I think he believed we lived forever.”
“He didn't acknowledge death?” asked Darius.
“I don't think that was it. He didn’t suppose we lived again, as
some of the Eastern Kingdoms believe. More so, that our souls continued life
after our body was laid to rest.”
“Is your grandfather a religious man?” Darius was intrigued with
such thoughts. He moved around on a large log, trying to get more comfortable.
The firelight made Mezar’s brown skin, dark hair, and slightly
upturned eyes seem more mysterious. “I wouldn't call him overly religious,
though he does have strong views. He... uh... has had to be very strong in his
trade.”
Switching subjects Mezar eyed the sword. “You believe your sword
has power.”
Darius brought his hand to the pommel of his sword. Thoughts of
when he had found it in the basement of the academy library flashed through
Darius’s mind. In sharp detail he remembered the vision he had seen of when his
sword had been forged. Wizards chanting around the forge had infused the weapon
with power.
“I have seen the power in your sword, Commander.” Mezar gave a
small grin, “In fact, I remember the point of it touching my back when you
captured me.”
Darius laughed. It was hard to think of the man as his prisoner.
“Are you any good with the sword?” Darius asked Mezar.
Mezar grinned. “Quite good. One of the best there is, I would dare
say. “
Darius relaxed again. “I still believe the bow to be the best
weapon, but the sword is a close second.”
“The bow!” Mezar exclaimed with a laugh. “It is too slow and
inaccurate.”
“But the sword cannot travel across distances,” said Darius with a
smile.
“You do realize the power in your sword is much more than a normal
sword, or bow for that matter.”
Darius nodded his agreement to Mezar’s assessment of his weapon.
He could feel the power coursing through him. It seemed to augment his own
growing powers.
They talked late into the night of weapons, travels, and boyhood
activities. Darius realized he was not much different than the Gildanian.
Eventually Darius stood up and prepared to retire. He turned with
one last question. “Why do you speak our language so well? Does everyone in the
empire?”
“No. Not everyone. I was specially trained.”
“Why? Since you are an officer in the army?”
“Yes. Something like that. My grandfather believes I should be
educated well with all the workings of our neighboring kingdoms”
“You speak much of your grandfather. What about your father?”
M
ezar frowned, the inner part of his brows
almost touching. “He didn’t spend much time with me as a boy. His work took him
away from home often. We don’t always see eye to eye on things.”
Darius was surprised once again at their similarities. “Sounds
like my father. He wants me to be a noble councilor like he is. To serve and
bow to the King. I can’t do that. I can’t just sit around all day. All I have
ever wanted was to help the Realm keep peace. The other councilors think if we
are safe from the neighboring kingdoms all is fine, but I have seen so many
injustices within our borders. The councilors sit in their meetings all day and
do not see what is in front of them. What they are doing is destroying us from
the inside.”
Mezar raised his eyebrows, smiled, and stayed silent. As Darius
walked to his tent, a guard came up to Mezar to escort him to his own. Darius
liked the man, but that didn’t mean he trusted him.
A few days later a substantial storm hit the forest, the temperatures
dropped, and the little army was left with a light layer of snow. The group
stayed holed up for a few days in some small caves they had found along a
worn-out river bank until the ground dried up more. Once they started east
again it was at a much slower pace. The forest became thicker the farther east
they went. Leaves were budding on the trees, and small shoots of green reached
out of the ground in sporadic patterns.
Two scouts Darius had sent up ahead came running back one morning.
“There are a group of men a short distance away breaking camp. They seemed to
be heading toward Belor.”
“How many did you see?”
“About ten men with swords,” answered the scout. “Two others
seemed to be prisoners, and one other was a girl.”
“A girl? Who would send a girl out in this forest?” Darius
mumbled, looking around for Leandra. Coming out of her tent, she smiled at him.
Her short dark hair bounced above her shoulders, and he found himself
momentarily lost in her smile.
She walked over to him and Darius put his arm around her. He knew
the men grumbled behind his back about her being there with him. He liked her
well enough, but the main reason he brought her along was because he could. No
one could tell him otherwise. He knew it was probably a petty thing to do, but
it was something he could control.
“I will take half of the unit with me, and we will surround them.
It shouldn't be hard. No killing unless you have to.” Darius had been caught up
in the glory of his victory in Denir but did not like the idea of killing. It
seemed more powerful to him to control someone who was alive than someone who
was dead. “The remaining men, break up camp and join us when you can.”
A short time later, Darius and his twenty men had the group in
sight. They were walking east with, as the scouts had said, what appeared to be
two prisoners. Darius took five of his men with him, circled around in front of
the party, and charged in.
“Put your weapons down,” Darius ordered to a surprised group. He
stood in his newly made blue uniform, covered on the shoulders and breast with
armor. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. He was ready for trouble.
They paused for a moment but took up a battle stance. They had
uniforms and moved with trained precision. Leaping forward, they attacked
Darius and his men. However, the other half of Darius’s men came up behind
them. Darius’s sword glowed slightly with the thrill of battle, and the other
men backed away. Darius rushed in and knocked a few swords out of men’s hands.
They scrambled to pick them up again, but Darius’s men were too quick and held
the Belorians at bay. With superior numbers and fighting skills, Darius and his
men soon prevailed. The others surrendered and lowered their swords.
“Who are you?” asked one of the Belorians, who seemed to be in
charge.
“We are the King’s Elite Army.” Darius still held his sword in his
hand, but the glow had subsided. The men they had caught kept shifting eyes on
it.
“What king?” the same man asked.
“What do you mean, what king?” said Darius, anger spilling out
from him. “Your King! King Edward DarSan Montere. This is his forest. Now, who
are you?” He pointed his sword at the leader. The power of the sword brightened
the forest around them.
Many of the men flinched and backed up. One held his ground. “We
are from Belor. We were sent to find these two traitors,” said a man, pointing
to the back of the group. “And the only commands we answer to are from the
Preacher.”
Darius walked toward them, his silver armor gleaming. His sword
glowed brighter with his anger.
“Darius?” yelled a high-pitched voice from the back of the
opposing group.
Darius stopped short. “Kelln?” He strode to the back of the men.
“What are you doing here?”
Before Kelln could answer, Darius turned his attention to the men
holding his friend. “Release him!”
“And him too,” said Kelln, pointing at Alastair.
“They are our prisoners.” One of the opposing soldiers pointed out
to Darius.
“And you are ours now. So release them.”
“I wouldn’t want to make him angry,” Kelln said with a huge smile.
Slow, but in compliance, the man untied the ropes binding Kelln
and Alastair’s wrists.
Behind the two, a girl stepped forward.
“Who is she?” asked Darius.
Kelln sneered at Alessandra. “A traitor. She turned me in after
helping me escape.”
“Escape from where?” Darius was so surprised to find his old
friend out in the middle of the Black Forest that for a minute he forgot about
the others.
Kelln looked around. “It’s a long story, Darius. Maybe later.”
Alastair turned to Kelln and put a hand on his shoulder. “Do not
be angry with her, my new friend. Remember who her father is. The Preacher has
had much longer to manipulate his own daughter than he has with the rest of the
people.”
Kelln growled in his throat but didn’t say anything more to
Alastair or Alessandra. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he motioned to
Alastair. “Darius, this is a friend of mine.”
Alastair looked at Darius and took a few steps so he was standing
directly in front of him. Darius took a step back when he saw the old man’s
eyes. Alastair smiled and whispered softly. “You must be Kelln’s friend. He was
right. I can feel the power in you. You will have many decisions to make about
this power, young man. You will have to make many decisions that will influence
the destiny of many. Make sure your influence is good.”
Darius furrowed his eyebrows at the old man. He was sure the other
soldiers hadn’t heard the soft speaking, but he didn’t want to let on his
discomfort at the man’s words. So he turned back to Kelln, who stood grinning
from ear to ear.
“It really is nice to see a friendly face, Kelln.” Darius slapped
his old friend on the back.
“This is fantastic!” Kelln still smiled. “Really fantastic. I was
going to walk all the way to Anikari to find you, but here you are in the
middle of the forest finding me.” He grabbed Darius in a big hug, his head only
reaching to Darius’s chin. “Nice armor by the way.”