The Silvering of Loran (12 page)

* * *

L
oran arrived at the entrance to the conservatory and peered into the room. In the early morning hours, Leanna would visit Tree—to receive a bouquet of flowers Tree had lovingly prepared for her to adorn her chambers.

“I chose fresh lilacs this morning, because I know how much the sovereign enjoys their fragrance,” said Tree, “and some angel wing jasmine to brighten his spirit.”

“Your bouquets always brighten his spirit, Tree,” assured Leanna.

Tree savored the complement, but acted embarrassed by Leanna’s words. She patted Leanna’s hand and scampered off among her plants.

Loran arrived at her mother’s side; the excitement she radiated was intense. She grabbed her mother and hugged her so vigorously that Leanna feared the bouquet in her hands would be crushed.

“He heard us!” Loran announced. “He heard us,” she repeated when she pulled back to meet Leanna’s eyes.

“Topen? Has he arrived?” Leanna eagerly asked.

“No, but I saw him in my dream. I was there at his estate, the one in the painting.”

Leanna checked the room to confirm they were alone, that prying eyes who reported to Gervest were not present.

“I do not wish to dismiss your enthusiasm, but Holt’s painting was completed by
your
description, and you have not visited Topen’s realm.”

“I know it sounds like hopeful wishes, but this was different. I have never dreamt like this before. I felt the wind bristling over Daramose as he ran, I heard the clocks ticking in the room Topen occupied, and I could smell Topen’s scent—carried with his sweat at the end of his lengthy day. I was there!” Loran insisted.

“Then, we must be astutely aware should he arrive soon. We must be the first ones to greet him, before word of his arrival reaches Gervest.”

Leanna was not entirely convinced that Loran had visited Topen’s manor in her dream, but she also was not entirely convinced that she did not.

“You must now keep your stone with you at all times, and try to avoid being in the presence of others, but for the brief time necessary to transition to solitude. Topen, when he arrives, will appear close to the stone.”

Loran nodded, embraced her mother again, and turned to rush from the conservatory.

“Where will you be?” asked Leanna.

“Unless I’m summoned, I will be alone in my chamber,” stated Loran, and quickened her pace.

* * *

R
olam and Kelamar advanced through the main hall, exchanging whispers between them as Loran approached. She passed to her brother and uncle a bright smile as she neared.

“A pleasant morning to you,” said Loran, then swiftly passed by them.

“Loran, wait!” yelled Rolam. “We need to speak with you.”

Loran stopped and waited for them to catch up to her, but she felt anxiety creeping up with every moment of her delay.

“I have pressing concerns at this time, can this matter wait?” implored Loran.

“Not for long, I fear,” Rolam replied.

The sincerity and determination in Rolam’s eyes was more intense than Loran had ever witnessed. She assumed that there must be great importance in his request.

“I’m on my way to my chamber. If you could give me a little time to attend to a personal matter, we can discuss your need then.”

Rolam nodded affirmatively, and Loran continued her journey toward the chamber staircase.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” said Kelamar. “Loran possesses impressive qualities, but the task we seek to accomplish treads along a very precarious path.”

Rolam smiled at Kelamar’s concerned words while he watched his sister traverse the main hall.

“Have you ever seen Loran ride her horse in the forest?”

“I don’t recall that I have.”

“You have my assurance,” said Rolam, “Loran is quite experienced in navigating precarious paths.”

* * *

L
oran arrived at her chamber door and saw it was ajar. She carefully pushed it open to view the room before entering.

“I did not want you to be startled upon your return,” said Topen. He stood looking at the paintings on her wall—including the one of him on the mountain. Loran had, in her haste to reach her mother, forgotten to return it to the hidden dwelling. “So, I left the door unlatched.”

Topen studied Loran where she stood in the entry. His eyes, for the first time, took in the woman she had become—replacing the image of the girl he had last seen.

“I see in my absence you have claimed the same virtue of your mother’s loveliness as your own. I am pleased to once again see the depth of your green eyes.”

Loran felt a familiar twinge of gratification at Topen’s words, but something was different. He was no longer a distant figure, alive just in her imaginings. They now appeared to be near the same age, and Loran recognized the promise of what that could mean.

Loran struggled to utter a single one of the many questions that flooded her mind, but when she focused on Topen’s appearance, the need for an answer to her first question was intimately personal.

“Why, in all the time I have known you, the years have not laid claim to your face? Is there some magic that keeps you young?”

“Not even magic can halt the progression of time.”

“Are you trying to evade my question?”

“I will not elude any question you may pose, but I must first understand the method you used to activate your magical stone.”

Abruptly, Loran realized that Rolam and Kelamar would arrive in moments. She closed her door and rushed into the room.

“Forgive my brevity, but your help is very much needed. However, right now, you must hide in the other room. It is imperative that no one else know you have arrived in the castle.”

“Why is there need for such secrecy?” Topen asked.

A solid knock on Loran’s chamber door rang out.

“Please! Find a place to be concealed,” pleaded Loran.

“There is no need for concern,” said Topen as he retrieved Loran’s magical stone from his cloak.

Loran knew every nuance of the stone she had held every day since she was twelve.

“How did you find that?”

Two more solid blows slammed against the door.

“Yes, use the stone!” she urged.

Topen pressed his thumb into the indentation of the stone and faded from view.

“A moment,” Loran shouted toward her chamber door—then she realized Topen did not use any silvering solution on the stone.

“Why did the stone not require the solution to activate?”

“There is much you have yet to be told,” Topen’s disembodied voice echoed into the room. “Perhaps now is not the best time for an explanation.”

While he was correct, Topen’s calm delivery amused Loran. She just shook her head and turned to the entrance of her chamber. “Enter,” she yelled out.

Rolam swung the door open and Kelamar followed him inside.

“Now, what is this matter that is pressing so urgently on your minds?” asked Loran.

“Rolam insists that you possess the skills and cleverness needed to help prevent the tragedy nearly upon us,” said Kelamar.

“Tragedy?” Loran quizzed.

“Loran, when we spoke in the alcove, I sensed you were already working on a strategy that would prevent Gervest from becoming sovereign. Was I wrong?” Rolam asked.

Now that Topen had arrived, Loran questioned the need to remain silent—at least to the two men standing before her. It was clear that forming alliances was necessary and Loran could think of no allies more trustworthy than Rolam and Kelamar. Still, she did not feel right disclosing her current course of action until Leanna was present.

“I told you that I believe you should be sovereign,” Loran began. “Now that I see you and Kelamar are united, I feel it is time to join all of those with similar beliefs.”

Loran walked to where she knew Topen last stood. With her back to the others, she stared at the spot that would be his eyes, if they were visible.

“I don’t believe that Gervest’s nature is his own. Something very powerful has corrupted him,” she said.

Through his ghostly form, Topen focused on Loran’s somber eyes and watched as she turned back to Rolam.

“Did you intend to act upon this feeling on your own?” Kelamar asked. “That is not a strategy worthy of Rolam’s boast.”

“Let us meet tonight, here in my chamber, after all have retired,” said Loran. “Another will be told of our meeting, and when we have all gathered, we will uncover our knowledge to each other. Without trust, we have no hope.”

“Agreed,” said Rolam. With a nod from Kelamar, the men made their way out of Loran’s chamber.

Topen reappeared moments after Rolam secured the door behind him.

“Why do you think there is an influence governing Gervest?” Topen asked.

“My mother suspected it first, and she bore her concerns to me. We have been seeking your help ever since.”

“Leanna has the means to contact me, why didn’t she use the communication stone I left in her possession?”

“It had been removed from its secure location. We don’t know where it is.”

“How were you able to activate your stone?”

“Leanna gave me the silvering solution she had in her possession, and she revealed to me that
I am magical
.” Loran moved to her bed and slipped her hand under a corner of the stout wooden frame. When she brought it back into view, she was holding the silvering book—that she took and placed in Topen’s hand. “She also gave me
this
in the hope that I could learn the secret of the silvering.”

“Has Gilvius removed his ban on magic?”

“No. He is so very weak. We believe he too has been gripped by an evil that has drained him.”

Topen strolled over to the table. He eased into a chair and placed the silvering book on the hard surface before him. Loran moved to the opposite side and assessed Topen’s contemplative stare. She seated herself in front of him.

“Is there any assistance you can offer?” asked Loran.

“If an evil has taken hold in this place, I need to first discover its nature, and if it is familiar,” said Topen. “Have you noticed any strange markings on Gervest?” Topen brought his fingers up to touch the bend of his arm. “Here, or the on the back of his shoulder,” he continued.

“I have seen nothing, but that is better asked of Kelamar. Gervest has changed into armor while in his presence, and may have exposed a mark.”

Topen lifted the silvering book from the table and the letters transformed with his touch.

“How long have you been using this book?”

“Months, I’m afraid only to disappointment.”

“It would have been extraordinary had you been able to accomplish a silvering with this book alone. Even for the youngest, who begin their training at sixteen, guidance is required,” said Topen. “You have expected too much of yourself in this task.”

“Would you not have done the same to save your family?”

Loran had no way of knowing that Topen had already failed once in a similar quest, and he pledged no such anguish would repeat itself with an Avileen descendent in this land.

“Indeed, I would, Loran Avileen.”

Topen slid the silvering book near Loran’s touch. Her fingers draped around it in a protective grip.

“I’m not sure you can accomplish the silvering in the conventional manner, but for now, I encourage you to continue to try. I will give you what guidance I can,” said Topen. “Is Rolam or Gervest aware of their magical legacy?”

“No. I intend to make sure Rolam is made aware tonight, when we gather here.”

“I will remain hidden from all eyes for now, but I must leave soon to collect items we will need if we are to battle evil.”

“When will you return?”

“The urgency here will require careful planning so that I remain absent for the shortest time possible, However, Daramose and I may not enter the gates of this castle until a week has passed.”

“You intend to announce your arrival?”

“For darkness to expose itself to the light, it must have a reason,” said Topen. “I will feed it uncertainty, to flush it from where it dwells.”

Loran rose and paced away from the table.

“And what of my unanswered question?” asked Loran. “Why haven’t you aged?”

“The face I present to you has aged as much as yours, but it has not aged at the same rate.”

Confused, Loran yearned for an explanation.

“Time,
as you know it
, does not flow at the same pace, in all lands.”

“You know time differently?”

Topen rose and met Loran where she stood. He reached for her hand, which she gave without hesitation, and led her to her balcony—where they bathed in the same morning light that illuminated their view of nearby Avileen forest. Topen stared across the vista and pointed toward the far-off town of Avilbrook.

“Imagine if you were to stand at the edge of Avilbrook, near the bank of the great river, and viewed a town on the other side, on the distant bank. However, to your surprise, all the people and animals that you could see were still—frozen, without any movement. As you cross this river and reach the middle, suddenly the town you are approaching becomes alive with motion: horses, people, all seem as you would expect. Now, when you look back to where you started, all those you left are moving faster than the swiftest horse, they are chaotic in their pace. If you were to return to Avilbrook, all motion would be the same as you left it.”

Topen leaned in closer, and Loran waited—her eyes locked to his—for his next words.

“The land that appeared frozen is mine, and the land with the chaotic pace, is yours. Even though time flows differently, we
perceive
it the same when in either land. The difference is, while I age a single day when in my land, six months will pass in yours.”

Loran felt a sickening in her stomach as she struggled to accept what Topen had told her.

“How is this possible? I have traveled beyond the eight provinces of the Avileen Empire and have witnessed nothing as you describe.”

“There are lands even further away—lands we can only reach by magic.”

“You are saying that you age at a quicker pace when you are here, than if you stayed in your own land.”