Esra (28 page)

Esra absentmindedly rubbed her hands together while Nadia placed her arm in the center of the table.  “Let’s talk with Cane together like we did the other day in the forest.  Remember, only one main speaker at a time so he doesn’t hear a jumbled mess of five people talking at once.  Tell him we’re ready fer him to meet with us.”

       Esra absentmindedly put her arms forward before jerking them back.  “He’s not going to tell me I have any more family members, right?  Brothers or sisters?”

       “Nope, no siblings I’m afraid,” Arland laughed.

       “Alright then.”

       The others joined in, placing their forearms next to one another and closing their eyes.  Esra shut her eyes and tried to picture the long, thin face of Cane, the droopiness of his features, the crinkles around his eyes.  Slowly she felt the familiar tingling sensation as the shimmering black text began to snake itself across their arms.  As Nadia suggested, she focused on only the words she wanted to say to him. 
We’re finished.

       I’ll be right there.

       Esra jumped as she felt a hot jolt of energy suddenly flare through her body.  Just as before, the words emerged across all five arms in Tur script.  The light behind the words was much brighter with Cane’s reply than it had been with her words.  He was obviously much better at this.

       “Good,” Nadia smiled, pleased.  They all sat back as Cane appeared in the doorway a moment later and stalked heavily towards their table. 

       “I assume ye have begun teaching Esra the basics of Tur?”

       “Aye, and I’ve already explained about the LeVara map,” Arland offered.

       “Good, good.” Her teacher pulled a chair up from another table and plopped heavily into it.  “I must say I am rather exhausted from all this excitement.  But no bother.  Esra, yer arms.”

       She put forward her arms as requested and Cane grabbed a hold of her wrists tightly.  She felt a powerful rush of energy, as if she were about to explode if she didn’t begin sprinting and jumping and screaming simultaneously.  It was more powerful than anything she had ever felt before.  The center of the table filled with a bright light that seemed to burst from where Cane maintained a steady grasp on her skin.  She had a strange sensation, almost like being filled with something, with light.  But that didn’t make any sense.  One couldn’t be filled with light.  Esra shook her head, trying to clear the cloudiness that slowed her thoughts, making her suddenly weary.  The others took hold of Cane’s arm for a brief second and the light grew even stronger for a moment.  He released Esra and everyone dropped their hands to their sides.  The intense light vanished instantly.

       “It’s a bit overwhelming the first time, I know,” Cane said apologetically.  “I also gave ye much more information than the others, to aide in yer training on the journey to Fira Nadim.  Ye now have the basics of magick and war to reference.  The others will show ye how to access this information.”

       “Thank ye,” she whispered, the woozy sensation lingering between her eyes. 

       “Good luck, all of ye.”  Cane stood up and paused for a moment before turning to her.  “And Esra, do be careful.”

       “I’ll try,” she said weakly as he marched out of the room.  She blinked her eyes hard a few times, trying to clear the fogginess that had settled before them.

       “Don’ worry, it’ll be over in a minute,” Arland assured her.  They sat for a while longer as Esra rubbed her temples gently.  The disorder in her head began to clear as it was replaced with a dull, throbbing headache.

       “What happened?”

       “Cane just happened.  Try to say the words to bring up the Kingdom.”

       Esra took a deep breath and watched her arms as she spoke. “
Orro Wey Sim LeVara.”

       She watched with curiosity as her skin remained unchanged.  A shot of frustration burned quickly through Esra, who was not used to the taste of failure.  Trying again she said the words louder and the illuminated script appear dimly and shortly, fading before a true picture could form.  She refocused, closing her eyes and speaking the words slowly and softly.  Esra opened one eye tentatively to see the picture morph indecisively before disappearing yet again.

       “What am I doing wrong?” She sighed in exasperation.

       “Jes focus on the words, clear yer mind of everything else.”

       Esra arranged her thoughts around the words of Tur, seeing the letters in her mind.  Slowly, the script on her arm began to form itself into an overview of the entire Kingdom of LeVara.  She could see the Eshomee Ledges to the north, Fire Lake to the east and Fira Nadim forest to the south.

       “Unbelievable,” she murmured.

       “That’s great Esra,” Nadia encouraged.  “Once a map is called up it will stay there until ye tell it to do something else.  Now focus all of yer attention on yer town as ye say the word.”

       “
Sorley.
”

       The image morphed slightly before returning to the same map of LeVara.

       “It’s difficult, I know, but ye have to block out every other thought except fer the location ye want to see.”

       “What if it’s a place I’ve never been to before?”

       “If ye’ve never seen it, just focus on the name of the place.  Or you can use the directions of east, west, north and south to ‘move’ the map towards someplace.”

       Esra closed her eyes and tried to concentrate only on the image of her L shaped town.  The farms lining the north and east, the shops at the crook of the intersection.  She spoke the name again and when she opened her eyes, the town map was before her.

       “I did it,” she said with surprise.

       “Ye’re a quick learner,” Nadia agreed.  “Now fer the final location, yer farm.”

       “
Yana Esra
.”  After two more tries, the lines took a long moment to refocus back to the detailed map of her farm, dimensionally perfect in every way.

       “Once ye practice a bit more and yer concentration is better focused, ye will be able to do that in one spell.”  Arland held out his arms again as he spoke the words in rapid succession.

       “
Orro Wey Sim LeVara Sorley Yana Esra
.”

       His arm went from smooth dark skin to a brightly glimmering image of Esra’s old house in one quick moment. 

       “Nice,” she murmured, impressed.

       “Now fer the other type of spell that allows ye to speak with others,” Nadia continued. “Ye’ll still begin with the word
Orro
fer sight magick but yer second word is
Ken
fer communication.  Ye will often hear Keepers refer to the two main types of Tur as
Orro Wey
or
Orro Ken
.  Tur of stored knowledge or communication.  To send a message to ye, I would say
Orro Ken Esra
, followed by whatever message I would want to appear on yer arm.  I can speak the words aloud in Tur or Human speech, whichever I prefer, but it will always appear on yer skin in Tur.  Once again, this is a protective measure, as most people outside of the Keepers do not know the language.”

       “But I must always say a spell out loud?”

       “No, but only a strong sorcerer can perform magick without speech.  It’s a limitation sometimes, I know.  All of us here can perform most magick in our heads but not the more complicated spells.  And it simply requires more energy and concentration to cast a spell without speech.  Keep in mind that one need not speak loudly to cast, though.”           

       “We’ll be going over all of that later, on the journey south.  Are ye ready te walk over te my shop te get yer first weapon?”  Baelin asked softly.

       “Weapon?”  She asked over the beating of her headache.  “I already have a weapon?”

       “Aye, I made it fer ye.  I think ye’ll like it.”

       “Alright,” she agreed tentatively, swaying briefly as she stood.  “But I must warn ye all that Baelin here is giving a real weapon to the clumsiest girl alive.  Ye better hope that Fynn has brushed up on his healing spells.”

XXIV

       The blacksmith shop at the Stronghold was much more grand than the simple one Baelin had used back in Sorley.  Pulsating waves of heat from the Fires greeted them before they reached the wooden beams edging the shop.  There were multiple Fire pits of varying sizes scattered around an open structure, which was covered by a tall canopy of Shendari scales.  Five large stone blocks for shaping the metal stood at various heights and lengths, two of which were currently occupied by Keepers. 

       “The Shendari scales covering the shop are immune to Fire,” Baelin pointed out.

       “Well, they are the Water people,” Esra mused.

       Wooden stands and tables were populated with a mixture of different weapons needing to be repaired or given to their new owner.  Huge chunks of metal, wood and stone leaned against the tables, waiting for their turn to be forged into the next deadly staff or blade resistant shield. 

       Baelin walked her towards a table at the front right, away from the thrashing intensity of the flames.  He picked up a long object that was wrapped in a light brown cloth and began to unfold it, revealing a newly forged shortsword.  Offering it to her with both hands, she took the sword cautiously and ran her hands along the smooth blade.  The grip was made of a strange kind of white leather which was a perfect fit for her long, lean fingers.  Encased in the dark gold metal of the pommel was a large, sky blue gemstone that shimmered brightly. 

       “I picked out the stone te match the color of yer eyes,” Baelin stated simply.  Suddenly realizing what he said, he looked down and nervously shifted his weight.

       “It’s beautiful,” Esra remarked truthfully, politely ignoring his discomfort.  The blade itself appeared unremarkable in shape, with a simple straight double edge that came to a sharp point.  Yet she had never seen such a metal, if that’s what it was.  The color was an unbelievable incandescent white that reminded her of the insides of the Shendari scales. 

       She swung the blade in a large arch and listened to it sing in a high pitched whine through the air.  It was perfectly balanced and fit her hand like a well-made glove.  She had never thought she would be comfortable swinging a weapon, no matter how much she practiced, but this beautiful blade gave her hope.  Drawing her fingers along the smooth side of the blade, Esra noticed that there were small inscriptions running along the length of them on both sides, which she recognized as Tur.

       “What does this mean?”

       “They’re the Five Laws of Keepers.  Ye may have seen them on the statue in the Council Room.”

       “Yes, I remember.  Fynn said that the Laws were very important.”

       “Aye, that they are.”

       She turned the blade over slowly until she found the beginning of the text and began to read it aloud.

       “As one sworn to be a Keeper of LeVara, upon these principles we place our lives:

One, We Strive Above All Else for the Peace and Unity of All Races and

   Peoples. 

Two, We Believe in the Freedom of All Creatures. 

Three, We Encourage the Sharing and Learning of All Skills and Traditions.                                    

Four, We Shall Not Use Our Skills of Magick or War for Personal Gain.

Five, Although We Seek to Do No Harm, We Will Oppose Those Spreading

   Tyranny and Injustice Until Our Lives, or Theirs, be Forfeit.”

       “It’s inspiring,” Esra said truthfully.  She had been expecting something else, something less selfless.  Maybe more like the endless laws of the King.  But this was everything that Cane had tried to teach her in his lessons, beautifully worded in five simple guidelines.

       “Aye,” Baelin agreed. “That is the code we live by.  Have ye ever noticed we don’ tie up the Horses?”

       “What?”

       “The second Law, the freedom of all creatures.  We never tie up the Skycatchers or any other Animals that live here, not even the ones we use te work the field.  Everything and everyone is here by choice.  No one is ever forced te stay.”

       “That’s incredible,” Esra admitted.  “What happens if someone wants to leave?”

       “Yer welcome te leave at any point.  The only thing we must do is have Arland modify yer memory so that ye have no idea of where the Stronghold is or the specifics of what we do.”

       “That doesn’t sound pleasant.  So ye can’t have any memories of being here?”

       “Just nothing that we would consider dangerous if it got into the wrong hands.  It’s as much fer yer safety as it is fer ours.”

“I see.  But wait a minute…the Horses, they don’t run away?”

       “Nay, not often.  They’re here at The Gardens te help, they understand our cause.  I didn’t quite believe that myself until I went with Fynn te talk with one of them.”

       “Fynn said that the fake meat that Keepers eat took decades to magickally discover.  That it was because of yer Laws, too, that ye don’t harm anything.”

       “Aye.”

       Esra ran her hand over the smooth surface of the blade again, not quite believing in what she felt, tracing her fingers around the gemstone.  “How did ye become so skilled?”

       “Well, this old man has had a long, long time te perfect his craft,” Baelin smiled.  “I had always been able te do uncommon things with my hands.  Every attempt at carpentry or blacksmithing showed a new talent, another item I could shape.  There seemed te be no material that would not become what I needed it te be.  It has always been this way fer me, and so I am not sure how te describe it other than te say it seems te be a natural part of me.”