“No, class. We will not be hurling anything at him today.”
“Why not?”
Shalini rolled her eyes. Clearly, using Lynton continuously for spell target practice was a bad choice. Not only were the girls fawning over him, but the boys kept harassing him for men stories. But as long as he didn’t disrupt the class, she was willing to let him tag along. Why he found her classes so much fun having finished his studies was far beyond her.
“Why must you always play with my hair?”
“Am I bothering you, Drak?”
“Yes.”
“Okay then. So you want an apple?” Drak responded by threatening to blow him up. How the second blowing up of the apple was so much worse than the first time, he’ll never know. Tilal was also playing with his hair. She was only half Dani but still found it fascinating, as her hair wasn’t orange or locked.
“Why was there even a need for the war?” one student asked. “Humans and magicians work well together.”
“Well, therein lies part of the problem: the distinctions. We are all human. Magicians are just humans with powers. Using the separate names was and still is a device for status distinction. Humans were always peasants, but before it was much different.”
“How so?”
“Back then, they were unappreciated, paid much less than they are now and treated as less than dogs. Now ‘human’ is more or less a term that means ‘peasant’ still but also not ‘magician,’ as opposed to ‘scum’ or ‘worthless.’ We now accept the fact that anyone of us could’ve been born human and magicless. We should all be treated as equal because our place in society was random.”
“So it’s very simple then. Some of us were lucky, and some of us weren’t. But human we still all are.”
“Yes, Tilal.”
“Things have changed. I think magicians are again starting to undervalue all the little things that would not get done were it not for the peasants. Like this new discovery in plumbing. After all, some of them are our very own kin,” Tilal continued.
“Some would agree things are going backwards. Others would argue that they are beneath us, so why raise them up? It is true that there are many things they cannot do because of their limitations. In that sense, yes, they are beneath us. But what is it that makes us who we are?”
“Our character and our actions. Being magical does not a good person make,” one of the students in class answered.
“Exactly. This is what makes Ronilas and the king at the time’s story so great. Both of them realised that though one was magician and the other peasant, it was their strength of character and belief in the land of Salinor that made them who they were. But it is hard to change the hearts of many—and once done, even harder to maintain. Maybe we are at that point of change. We may not see another war, but something to make us realise what we are forgetting.”
“And what is that?”
“I’ll let my friend answer that for you, Drak.”
“That we are stronger united. That the war was not just won by magicians alone. All carpenters are not magicians. All builders are not magicians. All forms of trade do not only employ magicians. There are many things that we use every day that do not need a magical touch to function. Though they cannot fight our wars, there is still use for them: for even the smallest thing can be what it takes to win the fight for justice,” Cherann said as she made her way to the front of the class with her brother in tow.
“It is so nice to see you. It’s been five years since last we met.”
“Yes. This was first on my tour of the realm. We were close enough to make it a month’s journey by foot. This is my brother Dent. He’s always longed to meet you after the stories I’ve told of you. I suspect someone has told you of him.”
“Indeed, she has. Class this is—”
“We know who she is: the new leader of the Alliance,” Janon said. Cherann took the compliment with grace. Apparently, even the youth thought she should take over.
“Well, I don’t remember any of you offering me such a title,” Shalini said in a faux offended tone.
“You told us that you wanted to teach. So who better than her?” Tilal asked.
“Do you agree? Have we begun to lose our ways as in the olden days? Is that why you fight for the peasants?” Drak asked. He wasn’t usually one to ask direct questions, but this woman intrigued him. He wanted to know.
“I am doing no more than any of you should do. Those in the position to help should help. Whatever my personal opinion, I would do much the same because it is the right thing to do. It is why my ancestors started the War of Beginning, and why your ancestors joined and helped. We are here today because of one person’s belief that we are all equal, and her ability to find magicians who agreed.”
“But I do want to know your personal opinions.”
“They are unimportant. I do what my heart tells me. What does yours tell you, young prince?”
Drak was unaccustomed to being so easily recognised so far from home. First Shalini, and now Cherann. How could they tell?
“My heart tells me lots of things I do not understand.”
“You are young yet. It will come in time.”
“Okay, class. Back to the lesson. The king who allegedly killed his brother and ruled the realm with Ronilas.”
It was late afternoon. Class was over, and everyone had learned something new. Shalini was full of knowledge and was an excellent teacher; she had much more patience than even Cherann had, and almost as much as Lynton.
“I see that you two have met,” Shalini said to Lynton and Cherann.
“Much the same as you two met, I presume. How is that brother of yours? Still using him as a trap to bait women?”
Lynton ignored the jest. Both women were more than twice his age, and he was sure they could out-jest him with ease. He saw no need to get into a war of words on a losing topic.
“The prince is interesting,” Cherann said randomly.
“You sense it too. He has the capacity for greatness. Janon and Tilal are kind of protective of him,” Shalini responded. “He had a rough start, but trust me: they aren’t that protective. If anything, they rough him up more than the rest.”
“I came to Mironi first partly because of this dream I’ve been having. There’s something I know I have to tell you, but I’m not sure. The seer says only a dream reader can help me,” Cherann said continuing on with the conversation.
“I may be able to help you with that. One of my students is a dream reader.”
“A reader? Here? What few of the readers we have haven’t kidnapped this child and tried to bring them into their super-ultra-secret and useless cult?” Lynton laughed. The faux importance Cherann used to say super-ultra-secret cult was more than funny though it shouldn’t have been.
“Not this reader. This child is exceptional. I do believe this child is trying to figure out another way to learn the secrets and is more than capable of hiding this particular talent.”
“Then how do you know?”
“The hard way. I analyse the questions they ask and the things this student inquires about. How they react to certain lines of conversation. I’m quite sure that I am right, but there is only one way to find out.”
“I don’t want to impose on a young child’s talents, especially one he or she may have never used. Couldn’t this go bad? Couldn’t the child die? Couldn’t I?”
“Dream reading is complicated just as much as a seer deciphering their premonitions. Do you believe this dream to be extremely important?”
Cherann sighed. She knew that she wasn’t being entirely honest about her visit. “It was the dream that brought me to you, and not entirely of my own design. I wanted to know if I should trust our dream readers with this information. And since you were in it, I decided to come to you first.”
“And how long have you had this dream?”
“For about a year I’ve been struggling with what to do, and only just at the beginning of the season did I get pulled to come and bring my brother with me. It was my only clear vision in the dream after a whole year.”
“And I only just met this student. It is no coincidence that you have only now been pulled to seek answers. Do you not think so?”
“I’ve learned to accept that some things are destined by the will of Salinor.”
“So have I. I, too, am at odds with how my best two students befriended the prince. There is something there, and I’m sure the seer will have an answer. I have just sent for her. Drak’s Betave is on his way to her.”
“You. What do you think Lynton?”
“I would be ashamed to look the seer in the face,” he said to Cherann.
“And why is that? What did you do?”
“I was not entirely honest to Shalini when I spoke of what the seer said to me. She told me that I would meet two important people and that after that there would come a moment when I would have to destroy my brother—that it would be disastrous should I not. She was so adamant in her command that I knew her vision had to be of such clarity that it worried her. Seers do usually deal with directions and premonitions, so when they’re gifted with a very clear vision, it must be serious. I did not kill him. I let him go off to the mountains. I was not a fool as my Betave would have you believe that he is on a good mission. But I could not kill my own blood. I fear that a lot of the things in motion now may be because of me. I’m not sure that I want to know.”
“That does not answer our question. However, it does mean that you are a part of this and maybe the catalyst. You are involved as much as we.” Cherann responded.
“I think we should wait for the seer. If she has had any new premonitions—or even if she didn’t—I’m sure she would want to be here. And I want to apologise for, I guess, loving my brother too much. I hope she can’t find fault in that.” Shalini stifled a laugh at that. This boy really didn’t know the seer that well.
“Shalini.”
Shalini turned to see that the voice came from a beautiful orange bear. But Shalini was not fooled by the change of colour. She knew this Betave instantly.
“Any word from the seer?”
“Yes. She will be here at midnight. And she says to make sure that the young man who shares your bed does not leave. She has a few words for him.”
“I see she’s still as demanding as always. And you are orange?”
“Drak forbids me to be this colour, but I chose this during my change. He is overly concerned with people thinking he’s the prince.”
“Many of the Dani people have orange Betaves. It is not nearly as obvious as he thinks.”
“This would be why I am orange. I’ve decided that I’m no longer giving in to this particular demand.”
“Orange looks good on you,” Shalini’s Betave said. Then she proceeded to head out of the pub with the other.
“Did I just witness your Betave leaving with the prince’s after giving him the eye,” Dent said with a smile.
“Apparently she has a thing for orange bear cubs. Who knew? So tell me something about yourself, Dent.”
“Me? You’re interested in me?” Dent couldn’t have been more shocked.
“Yes. Like why you want to be in the Alliance.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Cherann responded as her brother glared at her.
“I’m an advanced magician. Your natural defences need to be built up much more to escape my mind talents—which, by the way, I didn’t have to use to figure you out.”
Dent sighed. How could he be good enough for the Alliance? “I did want to join. But if my sister keeps introducing me to people like you, I may not think I want to anymore. Why does everything have to fall apart? The Alliance is not what I thought it was. None of the province armies are what I thought. All the people that fight for good aren’t associated with any of the supposed law enforcers. I’d rather work for the king. He and the queen at least seem to be trying.”
“This is true,” Shalini said, taking his hands. “You have workers’ hands. Following in your father’s footsteps, I take it.”
“Someone has to grow the food. I like farm work. It’s hot here.”
Mironi is a mix of desert and river. It doesn’t rain much either. You could just take off your shirt. There’s plenty of people in here that I’m sure would be happy.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” Lynton said with a grin.
“I’m not removing my clothing for the same man as my sister.”
“I don’t mind. And it was worth it even by Atorathian standards,” Cherann stated.
“Bah. It’s still no. This wasn’t what I was expecting when I met you. You’re not like most magicians I meet. But then, I don’t get out much. I only meet the ones that come through Atorath.” Dent said to both Lynton and Shalini.
“You like magicians?” Shalini responded.
“I am intrigued by them, yes. Most Atorathians aren’t. We were all one once. Where did it all go wrong?”
“Time moves on. We get comfortable and forget what’s important. It’s no one’s fault really; just part of the great circle of time. Hopefully, we will sort it all out without the need for another great war.”
***
It was midnight. Shalini, Cherann and her brother, Lynton, Drak, Janon, Tilal and all their Betaves had walked to the nearest section of the forest and found a glen within the trees to camp. The air was warm, so Lynton provided them with a cooling firelight. Encircled around the fire, they exchanged campfire stories—fables, myths and legends of their respective cultures. They were enjoying the peaceful camaraderie of all Salinor’s people.
“You.”
Everyone turned at the sound of the seer’s voice. Before anyone could adjust, she had manipulated the air to bring Lynton to her and had him on his back beneath her feet. “I gave you specific instructions. You must kill him. And now we are all here. Two visions. One can be prevented if the first is fulfilled. We should not be here. Had you done your job, we would not be here. I should destroy you where you lay.”
Lynton, knowing that she was right on all accounts, didn’t see any reason to argue. He did what he thought was right. If death was his punishment, then so be it. He could live with that as his final thought.
“Li’kahd! I should’ve known you would not do it. Get up.”
“You’re not going to kill me.”
“No. I have a feeling this would really upset my sister. The world doesn’t want to see us have a fight.” Lynton smiled. Clearly, she kind of liked him too—at least enough not to disintegrate him.
“So should we get to the task of putting up protective spells?” Lela, the seer, asked before taking a seat around the fire. “Who made this fire?”
“I did.”
“You. The one who can’t complete a simple task of killing your brother? You did this? I’m impressed: a blue flame that emits a continuous perfect temperature.”
“Are you flirting with him?” Dent asked with a sly smile.
“Are you jealous?”
“Leave the boy alone. I think he has eyes for you. He practically fell off the barstool when he found out you would be here,” Shalini said. Dent was about to protest, but his sister backed the story. If he had the golden complexion of a Mironian, he probably would’ve gone beet read.
“I don’t think protective spells are the way to go.”
“And you are—?” Lela asked of the speaker.
“I am Tilal.”
“And why is it that you think this?”
“Too obvious. With the type of protection we would put up, it would be obvious something important was going on. We need something more subtle: not weaker protection but something that isn’t suspicious.”
“I agree. But we still need to be protected to know when people are coming,” Cherann said.
“Yes. I suggest a basic silence spell. Lots of magicians have conversations they don’t want heard. No one will think too much of that if they walk by and can’t hear us. But we still need to know when people are coming. Does anyone have special talents?”
“Animals. I can talk to animals,” Dent said. Shalini wasted no time in summoning a squirrel.
“Good idea, Tilal,” Cherann said, and then turned to her brother. “This is what I want you to tell the squirrel. . .”
Cherann spoke instructions to her brother. The forest creatures were going to be their guards.
“This is smart. This way when someone is coming, we will know. If I work by talking with the trees and relying on the visuals my brother gets, we should always have a clear idea of whose close and if they’re a threat.”
“Yes. And if they come straight through the camp, we can put up instant spells around the people involved in what we definitely don’t want them to hear. That way it’ll look as if those the private bubbles aren’t around except those who are hiding things from them, then maybe it’s not that important,” Tilal added.
“The two of you work well together. Is this the dream reader?” Lela asked, directing the question towards Shalini.
“Yes.”
“Well, let’s begin. As we all know, something has drawn us here. We are a part of something. I foresaw this meeting but was hoping it wouldn’t come to pass. Right now, something is brewing in the archives of Keldon. It’s the dawn of a new age. We all have a part to play at some point. Whether our parts will play out till the end, I don’t know. What I do know is that I am positive if we do not heed what we learn today, Salinor is lost. There is still hope—very slim hope, but a hope.”
“Why am I here? I’m just a mountain boy. What can I do?” Janon asked.
“Your fate and Tilal’s fate, at least for the present time, are tied to the prince’s fate. That being said, I think it best to start with your dream.”
“My dream is a vision,” Drak sighed. He didn’t want to revisit the dream at all. He had told no one of the dream and was afraid of the truths it held.
“In my dream, the royal family is destroyed. All my brothers, my father and—” He couldn’t say it. His mother had been one of the greatest rulers in a long time. The thought of losing her was too much. She was the only one who ever believed that he, the least talented of all his siblings, would be the greatest—a great warrior for his people, she would say.
“And what about you?” the Seer asked.
“Nothing of me. I never dream of me.”
“But we have. I’m well aware that everyone here dreams of you. Some of us have regular dreams, but my dreams and those of others like Shalini and Cherann might mean more. It is no coincidence you are on our minds. What we decide today is most important because of you. You must live. . . Dream reader. Have you read before?”
“No, seer. I have not.”
“Come. There are many secrets to being a reader. Most of them I have learned by force. Most of your kind use their gifts purely for personal gain. I would not advise you to learn from them. This is why I came to you. I trust my sister’s judgment, and her message assured me you were untainted. Sit. Sometimes my visions come in the form of dreams. So we can practice on me. We will sit here until you understand enough to not destroy someone’s memories. That is all I have time to teach you for now.”
Tilal sat down in front of the seer, and their lesson began. Tilal found it felt like her brain was swimming. The memories were like water; some things were hidden behind mist. Others were very easy to read. Dream reading seemed to be about finding the dream just as much as interpretation. It was difficult, which would explain why even a seer could not do it. She found after a while that each thought had an imprint, especially with things she could specifically identify.
“I’ve got it.”
“Yes. Indeed you have. Cherann. Come and lie down here. This is going to get tricky. You’re going to have to do something that most Atorathians hate doing.”
“I have to let down my magical shield.”
“Yes. But you must do it in your subconscious. You have to be asleep, and no matter how hard you try, it will automatically start again once the sleep spell takes effect. It won’t be easy. Your body will fight the intrusion of the reader. Think hard about letting it down before you sleep. You, Tilal, will have to convince her subconscious that you don’t mean harm. As a child magician, you stand a better chance. If she attacks, try not to fight back any stronger than her attack. You could damage her brain forever.”
“Here. Have a berry.” Cherann looked at Tilal like she had lost her mind. What would a berry do?
“Trust me. Take it, it’s a gift. Eat.” Cherann did as she was told and soon after drifted deep into sleep. Tilal took one of Cherann’s hands, closed her eyes and allowed her essence to flow. Inside Cherann’s mind, there was turmoil. She was very unsettled about her place in the realm and how the realm was falling apart. Sure she could help, but she was not sure how or if maybe she should just join the Alliance and not let her pride or hatred toward them stop her from doing right. As Tilal surfed from thought to thought, the thoughts started to get more grey. Her memories started to disappear before Tilal had made it to her dreams. Cherann’s subconscious was fighting back.
On the outside, the others could feel the power growing. Drak was first to move to touch Tilal, but Shalini stopped him.
“No. You could kill them both. This is dangerous. I didn’t even know she knew it was possible.”
“Knew what was possible?”
“It’s a risky gamble. But judging by the change in her aura, she’s trying to draw out Cherann’s subconscious. She’s intentionally touching on the pieces of memory she can find or has already seen. She’s trying to anger the subconscious, so it materialises into a physical form. It’s dangerous because once the subject is angry, the subconscious loses all reason. However, it’s quicker to convince a physical form than the essence of subconscious to let down its guard. An angered subconscious is always risky business. But I wouldn’t underestimate her.”
It was at that moment that Tilal’s body turned into tiny dust particles and seemed to dissolve into Cherann.
“This girl is special. That is a feat many dream readers wish they could accomplish—or more accurately, wish they had the guts to do,” the seer said as they looked on.
Inside the mind of Cherann, a physical presence of Tilal materialised. This seemed to be just strong enough to make Cherann do the same. Tilal said nothing. She just walked up to her and handed the subconscious a berry. The subconscious figure ate it and immediately let down all defences.
Tilal moved fast. She let her power touch on everything for the signal she needed for the dream that she was looking for. And then suddenly she felt it. This was it. Now came the hard part: interpretation and extraction. This was much harder than she thought. She had to continuously watch the dream. Dreams had markers within them as well: magical imprints signifying what order they should be watched in. Only then could a reader see what was hidden in the dream. This took much, much longer than expected. She had no prior practice of this.
Then the strangest thing happened. The subconscious came beside her and took her hand, before falling into a dream state. The sleeping subconscious seemed to elevate her abilities to find the markers. The dream was soon ordered, and the meaning made clear.
Tilal reappeared in the physical world and woke up Cherann. “Are you all right? Are your memories intact? Can you sit up?”
Cherann felt as well as could be expected. She could stand and walk. She then sat down and waited for the reading. Tilal was wrapping a small phial of blue liquid around her neck; it was the first dream she ever extracted.
“How did you do it?” The Seer asked.
“The berry had a trace memory on it; something that would encourage her mind to take it. Once she touched it, she remembered me giving it to her and then ate it. That’s why I used it to put her to sleep. I thought it was an easy way to impress my memory as safe on her subconscious. That’s why I needed my physical presence there: so she could see me as I gave it to her.
“I would like to read you first before I speak. I have a sense that yours will not be nearly as difficult considering I’ve already been in your mind.” Finally, three hours after midnight. They were ready to proceed.
“Let’s start with the easy things. Janon and I are to protect Drak. Drak, it is crucial that you do all you can to overcome your unstable powers. Vardon, from what I can see, you are the only one who can help, or the only one who knows someone who can. You must protect us. Cherann, keep your brother alive. Travel and teach him all you can. Seer, you must not contact your sister or Cherann directly until you receive a sign. You will know it when it happens. The three of you will be the beginnings of the new Alliance. When the seer receives the sign, you must all meet in accordance with her vision. The Alliance leaders must be overthrown and you, Cherann, will take their place. It is also very important we stay in touch though none of us can speak to each other directly. I suggest using the animals for now but using the plants can help as well. I suggest that Vardon and the seer try to master the skill, so that they can at least send a message to you, Cherann, and not just receive them.
“We must go the elves. Me, Vardon, Drak and Janon. After your travels, you should take your brother to Keldon and hide with the dwarfs. And that brings me to you, Lynton. When the sign is received, the seer must contact you to come to us. You will be forced to make a choice. This choice will come naturally to you, but it will force you to give up a part of yourself—the part of you that makes you who you are. You will want to be in the elven city when this happens.”
“Why?”
“A lot of who you are derives from there. You were trained there. Your father is an elf. You may not remember anything about yourself. I just think it best that you be there when you decide.”
“You think I will decide this fate then?”
“I know you will, but I’m also telling you that you must. But that is all I can reveal. Both dreams were quite dark though they were brightened with sharp splashes of light— almost like splinters of hope against my consciousness. The difficult part, especially for me, has to do with identity. Everyone’s identity is safe except for those of the three of us children. We must disappear. And one more thing: after the Queen is told, anything she says must be taken seriously, and she should also be informed of whatever visions come to her after this information she must act on. I doubt that will be too hard; she always follows where the realm leads her.”
The three children didn’t seem happy about losing who they were. They had only just started their journey into adulthood. This was their first year to be separated from their parents, and now they had to disappear—not just lose contact, but cease to exist.
“Is there a time frame? Do we have time to visit our parents before the task is done?”
“I’m not sure, Drak.”
“I am. It will be about a year or so. That’s about how long it would take you to travel the entire realm by foot. I had a vision of a specific length of time the three of you would have to complete a task. I had the vision with Tilal first, then Janon, then Drak. That is the order in which you should meet your parents. Janon, I do have some bad news for you. You must not tell your father. He will betray you.” Janon stared at the seer defiantly. He protested about how his father was a good man. His father was a Keldonian. Surely they were the most honourable in the realm.
“Yes. He should be. But he will betray you. He will brag of your importance. He will not keep his promise of secrecy. Then he will try to seek you out to prove he is not lying. You must not tell him.”
This was devastating. His father couldn’t keep a simple oath of secrecy? Suppose he knew why Janon was important to the cause. Would his father brag of an even bigger secret?
“Can we save my parents?”
“I don’t know how to answer that, Drak. Seer?” Tilal said.
“It has been my experience that some things are left up to the fates. If we intervene and save them, it will alter time. Whatever we are supposed to survive to do will cease to exist. We may all die, and the terror that comes may never be defeated. Some things are worth the risk of trying to change the fate of the world. Other times, we must make tough choices. Do you understand, Drak?”
“Yes. My mom was right: I am destined to be king. But how did she know, and why can’t I save them without risking my own death? I just want to be ten again. This is too much too fast. Will I get to be a child? Will all my choices circle around being king?”
“Your mom is one of those interesting people who senses things naturally with no special skills required. I’m sure the moment she sees you, she will know exactly what you’ve come to say. She feels it in the air, much like you. You are just afraid to embrace your talents. . . So I brought a bottle of some Dani wine. The good purple stuff. We might as well enjoy a glass before we go our separate ways.” The seer said as she opened a bottle.
“You’re going to intoxicate the prince? I thought you were better than that, Lela.”
“That’s seer to you, sister.”
“Djah.”
“Djah? I see Lynton is having an effect on you.”
“It’s mostly Janon. He uses the word more than he realises. So do you like the wine, Drak? It is the wine of your people.”
“I do. I’ve had a taste here and there. I am the youngest, after all. But I’ve never had enough to really discern the taste. My brother, the one before me, usually gives me Mist, the blue wine.”
“Really? At your age. I didn’t know kids were allowed to use—” Janon said.
“It’s common in Danais. A lot of the mind altering herbs are.”
“I say drink up. Let’s get drunk. And if any of you tell the world that the seer isn’t the mean, serious, disobey-me-at-your-own-risk person I am when I’m working—well, I’ll kill you.”
Everyone laughed at the joke and drank till they were beyond merry. Cherann had a marvellous voice, as did Janon. The two of them sung campfire songs all through the night. It was a good night.
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