Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (11 page)

Silently I comply.

It takes Garl a long time to sit though. At first he
stares out the window behind his desk, his expression unreadable.
Finally, however, he walks slowly up to his chair and sits.

Without a word, I watch him.

Could this be about Yin? Did she break out of her
room last night? Did she find some way of overcoming the
enchantments to summon magic?

Though it should be impossible, in all honesty, it
wouldn't surprise me. She overcame my sleeping spell, after all. I
saw the burning will she used to fight my soldiers. Woman or not,
she is most definitely a force to be reckoned with.

“Captain, there has
been a development you should be made aware of,” Garl
says.

The hair along my arms and the back of my neck stands
on end as a chill wave of nerves passes through me.

It takes a moment,
but with a breath I control myself
. “What
is it, General?”

“Tell me, son, do you
believe in the old legends?” Garl suddenly asks as he leans back in
his chair, fixes his hands before him, and stares my
way.

I blink, unsure what
he's asking
. “I am a man of tradition,” I
decide to answer.

“Just as your father
was. But what I am asking is about more than tradition. Do you
believe the legends of our people?” Garl asks.

“Which legends,
sir?”

“Of sages and saints,
of warriors and guardians,” Garl says in a low, respectful
tone.

It takes me a moment,
then I understand
. “You mean the legend
of the Savior?”

Garl nods once.

As he does, he looks wholly serious.

Though I'm a man of tradition, there are some
traditions even I have outgrown. The legend of the Savior is one of
them.

Once every age, one person—usually a woman—is chosen
to summon Gaea, the spirit of the earth to fight alongside them on
the final day.

The Savior, according to the story, is always a
warrior of incredible skill, endowed with the singularly unique
ability to summon Gaea, who in turn controls all the spirits of the
land.

. . .
.

It is a myth. A story conjured long ago in the minds
of men too simple to understand forces greater than themselves.

Though I am a
sorcerer, I’m also a man of
science. I
understand the device over my wrist is just that—a device. It
belongs to an extinct race far more technologically advanced than
our own.

There is no such thing as Gaea or a Savior—they are
legends created by people too simple to understand Arak
technology.

Yet as Garl looks at me, I would be a fool not to
note how serious his expression has grown.

“You can be honest
with me, Yang. Do you believe in the legend?”

I press my lips together, but can’t stop my jaw from
twitching. His question is leading, and I realize he is after a
specific response. I just don't know what it is.

I decide to go with
honesty
. “No, General, it is a
story.”

“I thought you said
you were a man of tradition?” he subtly reprimands.

“Some traditions
die,” I answer carefully.

“This one does not.
Son, what I am about to tell you, I do so only because you are one
of my most trusted men. I need you to help me with what comes
next.”

I sit there and I stare at Garl.

I want to believe he is playing with me, and this is
merely jest. But I can't—I can read his emotions, and know they are
just as real as they seem.

“The Savior exists,”
Garl says.

I blink. It's all I can do.

The Savior exists? A warrior who will summon Gaea on
the final day of the age, and fight to hold back the Night?

It's a fantastic tale, but, at the end of the day, a
tale. Yet a man I trust more than most is sitting here telling me
it's true.

For the second time in two days, I start to lose hold
of my emotions. I start to react.

I can feel a fire burn somewhere deep in my soul.

Just as I do, I rein in control.

I sit in the chair, and I wait to hear what the
General has to say.

“There are few who
still believe in the legend, but that does not mean it is not true.
The Royal Family has not forgotten, and nor have the record keepers
that hold our Kingdom's most important scrolls.”

I sit there, and I wait.

I wait for the General to make sense. To defend his
statement. I need more than a simple story about record
keepers.

. . .
.

Or do I?

He is my general and I am obligated to follow his
orders. So if Garl tells me there is a Savior, then I have no
reason not to believe him.

. . .
.

As I think that, I think of Castor Barr. I remember,
in exact detail, how he threatened me. How he leaned forward, the
sleeping Yin hooked in his arm, and he warned me that he would
break me. I remember the look in his eyes and the certainty in his
tone.

The unpleasant memory sends a light sweat picking up
across my top lip.

I ignore it, and I wait.

Soon the General
continues
, “the time will shortly be upon
us. Soon the final year of the age will arrive.”

Though I am content
to listen to the General, now I clear my throat
. “I'm sorry to interrupt, sir, but I thought there was no
way to tell when the age would end? The time of the ages does not
align with our own calendars, or so the legend goes.”

I watch the General very carefully as I challenge
him.

He nods. As he does, I swear he looks embattled, and
that is a wholly odd emotion for a man like Garl.

Men like Garl are the backbone of this nation. They
are the strength upon which we all lean. My father taught me that
lesson and would not let me forget it.

“You are correct, but
only partly. The Royal record keepers have found a way to estimate
the time we have left,” Garl breathes heavily.

As he says
“
the time we have left,” I shiver. It's a
cold, quick, tight move, and I hide it by leaning forward and
brushing a hand down my leg.

“Sir?” I prompt when
he dwindles into silence.

“The record keepers
have informed us we may have a month or we may have a year. But the
time will shortly be upon us,” Garl continues.

I sit there in quiet surprise. How else can I react
to this?

A man I have known nearly all my life and who has
always been a pillar of strength is now sitting before me telling
me the equivalent of a ghost story.

Out of loyalty, however, I stifle my natural
reaction, and keep an open mind.

“It is now more
important than ever that we train the Savior, keep her safe, and
shepherd her to the final day,” Garl now says, breathing heavily
through his words, locking his hand on his chin, and letting the
fingers dig hard into his sallow skin.

Her?

A rush of feeling escapes through me. Tingles and
prickles and nerves. They rush up and down my spine, blooming
through my stomach like hot water melting ice.

He couldn't mean Yin, could he? Is that what this is
all about? Is that what explains her sheer power? Could she really
be the Savior of legend?

It's ridiculous to consider, and yet I can't push the
thought away, and the more it stays locked in my mind, the more it
melts through my control.

“Though I have kept
this secret along with a few other trusted men, I must now bring
you in on it,” Garl continues, letting his hand drop from his jaw
and rest listlessly on his desk. He stares at me with a keen but
still haunted gaze. I can't deny how undone he appears. Either he's
an extremely good actor, and I’m only now learning the depths of
his abilities, or the man is truly serious.

“General,” I stutter,
unsure of what to say. “How . . . I . . .” I
trail off.

I feel cold and hot all at once.

In all my years, I've never faced news like this.
Though I still want to dismiss it, I find it almost impossible to
do. All I can remember is that moment when Yin woke up in the cart.
She went from being completely asleep and completely locked in by
my spell, to bursting forward like a ball from a cannon. In fact,
with little effort, I can conjure her exact expression, the exact
angle of her lips, the exact look in her eyes. Perhaps I'll even be
able to remember it the day I die; it's deeply etched into my
mind.

“I wish to bring you
in on this sacred task. I know I can rely on your calm, directed
power. Plus, she trusts you. It is important that she trusts
you.”

If I was surprised before, it's nothing to what I
feel now.

Yin trusts me? The last time I saw her, she looked as
though she wanted to boil the blood from my veins. If that is her
trusting someone, I shudder to think of what she does when she
doesn't like them.

“Are you
. . . sure?” I question the General.

“She has always
trusted you. You know this. She treats you as a close confidant and
considers you one of her truest friends,” the General informs me
with a nod.

. . .
.

“I only just met her,
sir. Before yesterday, I didn't know she existed,” I point out
quietly.

The General shakes
his head
. “What are you talking about,
Yang? This is serious. Princess Mara trusts you. This situation
requires we surround her with people she can trust. People that can
protect her in the task that awaits. We are gathering the most
powerful warriors from the corners of our kingdom. They will be at
her side, ready to protect her no matter what.”

. . .
.

Princess Mara. The Queen's own daughter. Softly
spoken, gentle, and well loved by her people. I've known her for
years, and in that time, my affections for her have only grown. In
that time, I've also seen her power grow. She is easily one of the
most talented sorcerers I've ever met. If anyone were to be the
Savior, in a way, it makes sense that it's her.

. . .
.

Yet, confusion now sweeps through me. For a few
moments, I was so sure he was talking about Yin. Something in my
gut told me that made sense.

Now I find myself trying to shake free of that sense,
but it's hard.

“I realize it may
take more than my simple words to convince you,” Garl says as he
gently pushes himself up and walks towards the window. There he
pauses with a hand on the glass as he directs his head up towards
the palace on the horizon. It always glistens, regardless of
whether there's any sun to shine upon it. The gold that plates the
pillars and roofs and walls is engraved with so many magical
enchantments that they burn in even the darkest nights. It's the
home of the Royal Family, after all, and they deserve the greatest
protection of the land.

But if what Garl is telling me is true, then they
will require more than gold walls with spells engraved across them.
If the Princess really is the Savior, then nobody will be able to
protect her on the final day. Only she will be able to summon Gaea,
and only she will be able to fight alongside the spirit of the
earth as they protect all of humanity from the Night.

She will have to be trained. As completely as can be.
Far more rigorously than any soldier.

As the enormity of what Garl is suggesting finally
strikes me, all thoughts of Yin drift from my mind.

While she has a great deal of power, and briefly it
made sense to believe she could be the Savior, she is nowhere near
as competent as Princess Mara.

“The Princess has
requested that you help train her,” Garl admits to me.

I can't help but blink rapidly. Me? While my father
ensured I am a competent warrior, I'm not in the Princess'
league.

“She wants you at her
side.”

I nod.

“I realize you may
still have your misgivings. Finding out what you once thought was a
myth is reality is not easy for anyone to deal with. So I give you
leave for the rest of the day to visit the record keepers, and they
will show you the sacred scrolls. Once you have read them, I am
confident you will believe as I do.”

I nod again.

When I woke up this morning, for a brief moment I had
the feeling that my life would be different. I thought, however,
that the reason behind that difference would be a certain
boisterous village girl. I could not have predicted this,
however.

But suddenly
something clicks into place
. “That's why
you had me retrieve Castor Barr,” I suddenly say as I lean forward
in my chair excitedly.

The General
nods
. “He is one of the finest soldiers
to have served under the Royal Army. He will be an invaluable asset
in training the Princess. And after my discussion with him this
morning, he has agreed to help her.”

“. . . He
has?” I ask carefully.

The last time I saw Castor, he threatened to rip my
throat out and break me if I went anywhere near Yin. I believed, at
that point, he would find any way to break free. But now I hear
he's agreed to train the Princess, and from the General's easy
tone, it doesn't seem as if negotiating with Castor was
difficult.

“Castor Barr is
undoubtedly one of the greatest warriors we have at our disposal,
and we are honored that he has agreed to help,” the General
continues.