Chapter Two
The entire left wall of Gaendir's study was covered in bookshelves. Upon the bookshelves sat hundreds of old manuscripts and tiny odd bits. The right wall was covered in maps and drawings of creatures and buildings. At the front of the room was a large oak door, leading to the main room of the small brown house. In the right wall sits a staircase leading upwards to Gaendir's room. The rug was a patchwork of quilts and the walls were painted a dark red, almost rust colored.
Gaendir sat before me, a large brown book on his desk. The book had a spiral binding and old, yellowed pages. It is the Book of Annals, the very history of Ronaria, beginning with the war of the seven tribes. I twisted a piece of my hair on my finger. Slouching down in the rickety wooden chair I sat on, I stared at the ceiling, swimming in an abyss of boredom. Gaendir looked up from the ancient book when I sighed heavily. His face bore the signs of shame and disbelief.
“How do you ever expect to become a powerful sorceress if you never learn patience?” he sighed in exasperation.
“Patience is not needed for me to become a sorceress. I need to learn to fight and protect myself,” I argued.
“Well, you cannot learn how to fight until you find another spirit user. You know that full well, Nayima. You would do well to remember it.”
“I know, I know! I just want to be able to-”
“That's enough, Nayima,”
I stepped down, not willing to fight any more. I returned to slumping in my chair. Gaendir went back to reading his book. Minutes passed. Gaendir turned a page of his book. I sneezed and saw Gaendir push his spectacles farther up on his nose.
“Choose a book, Nayima. Learn something new,” he told me, not even looking up from his book.
I stood and walked to a bookshelf. I grabbed a random book, one covered in dark green leather and sat back down. As I curled up into the plush brown chair, I opened the book. The inside cover was a deep black with several words written in gold in one corner. They said “The Elemental Goddesses And The War Of The Seven Tribes”. I began to read the fat green book.
The Seven Tribes Of The First War
Before the time of the Ronarian peoples and the cities of Gilgamesh and Zosa, there was a war. A bloody battle that lasted hundreds of years. This bloody battle was fought between the seven tribes of the Northern plateaus, the very first inhabitants of Ronaria. The first tribe was the tribe of the Water Walker. They lived on unknown islands to the east and worshiped the Goddess Aldrina, the woman of the waves. The second tribe were the Earth Walkers, from the forests of Delkieth. They worshiped the Goddess Maira, woman of the dust. The third tribe were the Fire Walkers, from the Southern Desert. They worshiped the Goddess Fara, woman of the flame. The fourth tribe, and perhaps the most gentle, were the Air Walkers from the mountains. They worshiped the Goddess Breaga, woman of the clouds.
Every person in each of these four tribes could control the element in which their clan was born from. For example: A child born into the earth clan would be able to control a small amount of earth according to what he or she willed.
The Spirit Walkers were the fifth tribe. Gifted with the ability to control all four of the elements, they worshiped the Goddess Udara. The spirit users were gentle and kind, good hearted peoples. Though they were powerful, few lived at a time, for each one was a person chosen by Udara at birth. The Spirit Walker would receive the markings on their face as they left their mothers womb. They were, in turn, her children of the earth.
The sixth tribe were the Shadow Walkers. The Shadow Walkers were called Sages. They worshiped the God Kyril. Sages were evil, unnatural beings. There were two ways Sages could be made. Either by the process of male Sage and female Sage equals Sage offspring. Or, by taking a non-Sage and turning them into one. This means that if someone was branded with the symbol of Kyril, when they died (And only once they died), they would become a Sage. Dead and yet, undead. These undead Sages were then immortal, already having died. The Sages were few in number just as the Spirit Walkers were.
Though there was a seventh tribe, nobody was aware of their origins. They could have been animals or the mer-people for all we know. No one knows their origins and no one will ever know.
After the death of the Sages only king, Shoji, they went crazy. They ran about Ronaria, killing all in their path. They believed that the death of their king was caused by the other six tribes. They also believed that because of this, everyone in the world was to blame, and therefore, must die.
This sparked the beginning of the war.
Before the Sages went insane, they had been good, and the world had been a peaceful place. The tribes lived in harmony with one another.
But it all fell apart.
Just years after this uprising, The six other tribes attempted to join as one and defeat the Sages. They fought for years, decades. Many people died and much blood was shed. When the time came that the Sages were driven back, all the Spirit Walkers were destroyed, either made into Sages or killed. Now, not one spirit user remains, and Ronaria is lost without them.
During the war, a group of people called the Seyjirians arrived in Ronaria who possessed no amount of magic. They had no ability to control the elements. The Seyjirians banded together with the six good tribes and helped fight against the Sages.
The war of the seven tribes was resolved when a Seyjirian king took control of Ronaria. He managed to keep the Sages under control, within the limits of Moronia, the country he established for them.
The first king was named Viasl.
Viasl's Seyjirian descendants have been ruling Ronaria since then, keeping it just above the brink of disaster. Keeping it stable, but dangerously on the verge of chaos and disarray.
I closed the book, reflecting on what I had just read.
“And now, the Sages are once again on a killing spree.”
“What?” Gaendir asked me. I glanced at him apologetically.
“Sorry, it was nothing,” I said.
“Do you know why the Sages are once more rising up?”
“No, why? Do you?”
“No, of course not. But you know to avoid them, correct?” he asked, watching me from behind his desk.
“Yes,” I sighed.
Later that day, I stood in the shadows of the small brown house, ready for my next lesson of the day, battling and gaining physical strength. Caddric was my mentor for this area of expertise.
The stage loomed eerily behind me. I faced Caddric. Okra, Atturis, Asha and Gaendir sat on the grass beside Caddric and I, watching in anticipation. Caddric wore a scarlet colored tunic, simple but handsome. His short and curly blond hair looked shiny in the bright sun. He grinned, ready when I was.
Fighting practice sucks.
I sighed heavily and coached myself into my fighting stance.
“You ready? We haven't practiced in a while,” he grinned.
“Just get on with it,” I said.
He just stood, silently. I waited, breathing slowly, trying to concentrate. I was trying to note his every move, know just when he would strike.
Caddric took a few steps forward. I stood my ground. Caddric then ran at me, and as his fist connected with my midsection I staggered back, surprised by the force of the blow. Caddric once more broke into a run, bearing down on me like a missile.
I was ready for the impact this time. Caddric was taking no chances, using strength enough to break my bones if I faltered. He was obviously wary of what I was capable of.
He was upon me, flying forward with a well executed kick. I clenched both fists and sidestepped, blocking the kick to one side and sweeping my arm around in a looping blow. He was fast, ducking the counter-attack and landing on one leg as the other swept around in a graceful arc. His meaty shin connected with the back of my ankles and swept my legs clean out from underneath me. With a grunt of annoyance I fell, tucked, and rolled.
I came up as his fist flew towards my chin. Turning my head quickly to one side, the blow shooting past close enough for me to feel its wind, I grabbed his passing forearm in my hand and readied myself for an open palmed blow. My palm landed with a satisfying thump high on Caddric’s chest, erupting a rush of adrenaline through my veins.
Caddric leaped over me, grabbing hold of my wrist, and landed behind me, pulling my forearm across my throat. I felt his knee slam into my spine. I grunted in pain.
I twisted out of the grip, spun around, grabbed under Caddric's knee that was in my back and threw him into the sky. He twisted in the air and landed to my left, regaining his balance.
I had to end this now. I took a risk and let Caddric hit my face. As I felt the skin on my cheek rip open, my vision faltered, but it offered me what I needed. As Caddric moved to hit me again, I intercepted him. My blow to Caddric's head was hard enough for me to hear a crack. The blow upset Caddric's momentum and threw him to the ground. As he attempted to stand, I sent him a kick to one thigh and a second palm into his chest. He grunted in pain and collapsed to the floor. I laid my forearm across his throat and knelt across his hips, preventing him from kicking me. I rammed a fist into Caddric's chin to insure that I won the fight.
“Your mother would be proud, Nayima,” Caddric choked, his voice quiet.
Then, I let him go, my adrenaline dissipated as I sunk to the ground. Blood leaked from the cut in my cheek. My mind filled with memories of the night my mom was taken from me. Around me I could see my childhood home, the trees and the cloudy night sky. I could smell the oncoming rain and the water of the creek. Far away, I could see the Sages on their horses. I could see my mom being dragged out of my house by the Sages, me unable to do anything. I remembered the helplessness I had felt that night, the grief and pain.
As the image disappeared, I was back on the ground in Zosa, behind our little house. I just sat on the ground, tears falling from my eyes. I never want to remember that night. I never want to remember how my mom had held me one last time. How she was stolen from me. I had no one. I have no one. I cannot stay here. In Zosa, with Gaendir and everyone else. It is almost time for me to leave, to learn the forgotten magic.
I sat on the ground, memories of Gaendir and Asha and everyone else flowing back to me. I cried as I thought of the travels we had done.
The strong breeze interwove with my brown locks. I lay on the sand, the burning sun scorching my back. The waves, a deep blue more royal than the brightest sky. Atturis lay next to me. His sandy hair was intertwined with clumps of seaweed, him having exited the salty water moments ago. Each giant wave, covered in a layer of white foam, sent bright white spray into the sky as they collapsed onto the gray boulders of the ocean. I glanced at Atturis and found him watching me, his eyes a light shade of brown. Looking away, I caught sight of Gaendir meditating in the golden sun.
I smiled as another distant memory flooded my head.
The strong scent of cinnamon was in the air. Okra and Asha stood beside me, all of us wearing the same off-white gown. We stood on the stage, posed in such a way that we looked like swans. I then began to dance to Atturis's music. Then, Asha began to dance, the same dance as I but lower to the ground and more sharp, not graceful. Then, Okra began, smooth, not graceful or sharp but tranquil. The soft music played loud in my ears, and as I danced, I forgot everything. I forgot how I got there and how I had been befriended by these people. And I discovered that one of my passions was dancing.
I sniffed and wiped the tears from my eyes. Everyone had gone inside but Atturis still sat on the ground. When I looked at him he smiled.
“Are you okay now?” he asked politely.
“Yes, yes I am,” I replied, sniffing once more.
We stood and he helped me inside. As he sat me on a chair, I remembered the cut on my cheek. A wave of pain and nausea washed over me. I suddenly realized how weak and tired I was. I sat on the chair while Atturis tended to my injury.
“You fought well out there, you are getting better,” he said as he dabbed the blood off my face. He got a new towel and sat next to me while he washed my cheek.
“Caddric spoke of my mom. Would she really be proud of me?” I asked quietly.
“Of course. You are a growing woman, she would be very proud.”
I would have smiled had my cheek not have been cut.
I yelled out in pain as Atturis poured alcohol on my cut to keep it from getting infected. As he bandaged my cheek in white cloth strips, my eyes began to flicker shut. Then, I fell into a black slumber from my exhaustion.
The city of Zosa became farther and farther away from me. It had been two days since my lesson with Caddric, the cut on my cheek ached still.
The soft green and brown of the fertile soil penetrated my eyes. The high cliffs, on either side of Zosa, rose up beside me. I could hear the River Fauna to my left. As I looked straight ahead, my eyes met the distant mountains. The air smelled heavily of rain.
I stood in a field of golden wheat, the sun a fiery red behind me, for it was evening. I knew that I needed to dance when no one was watching, for it is calming for me.
The brisk wind blew my hair around my eyes. As I took my hair band and slipped it messily onto my hair, I sighed. I closed my eyes when I breathed in deeply and allowed everything to flow out of my mind. I stopped thinking about leaving Zosa. I stopped thinking of my mother. I stopped wishing to learn how to use my gift. I stopped everything and brought forth one single memory.
I sat on my mothers lap, tired and weary. And as she began to sing a lullaby, my lullaby, my eyelids began to droop. I could once more see the fire in the fireplace flicker. I listened to mothers soft and crystal clear voice. The song became etched into my memory as I drifted into the silent land of sleep.
As I once again brought the lullaby out of its corner in my mind, I began to sing it. Yes, my voice was scratchy, but yes, it was the same song. And as I sang it softly, I began to dance, the crisp winds rolling down my shoulders and under my brown dress. I spun and flew like a bird, like an eagle. I danced for hours, until the darkness of night enveloped the meadows.
My room had a floor like a patchwork of small rugs. The walls were sky blue with a border of dusky blue along the bottom. A sweet fragrance of autumn leaves suffused the room, though the abrupt breeze from the open window dissipated it. It was a small room and quite well lit. The two side walls were obscured entirely by floor to ceiling bookshelves, broken up by heavy, deep amethyst curtains on two windows. My bed stood in the back of the room to the left of the door. Lavender and white sheets covered it. Two white, plush chairs sat on either side of the room, each beside a book shelf. My small brown desk stood next to my bed, tucked into the corner of the room. On the desk sat a small purple lamp and a jar of ink pens. The chair that accommodates the desk was the same dark brown wood but it was covered in what seemed to be a soft blue cushion.
I sat on my bed, reading a book, when someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” I called.
The door opened and I looked up from my book. Okra and Asha walked in and shut the door behind them. Asha sat on the end of my bed excitement clouding her fragile face. Okra played with a pen on my desk.
“Nayima, I have something exiting to tell you,” Asha said enthusiastically.
I laid down my book. “What is it?” I asked, genuinely interested.
“A messenger from the palace arrived a few moments ago and he handed me this,” she said, handing me a little white envelope. On the front of the envelope, in golden letters, was the name Nayima Draka. I gasped.
“Is this from the Duke and Duchess of Zosa?”
“Open it!”she nodded.
I carefully opened the little white envelope and out slid a dark green piece of paper, thick and elegant and scented like pine trees. On the paper it said:
Lady Nayima Draka,
The Duke and Duchess of the city of Zosa would be honored if you would join
them at a ball this evening. Tis' in the great hall at the eighth hour.
Signed,
Duke Bartholomew and Duchess Genina
“Oh my gosh!” I shrieked, “I'm invited to a ball! Tonight!”
“I know! Everyone got invited!,” Asha squealed, “We have to get ourselves ready! I'll help you, then fix up myself.”
“Oh, so you're going to help Nayima get dressed but not me?” Okra growled in disappointment, crossing her arms.
“You've already been to a ball, Okra, you know how to prepare. This is Nayima's first time! She needs my expertise on the subject!” Asha said grabbed my hand and pulled me towards my closet, “We have got to find you the perfect dress!”
Okra stormed out of the room to get herself ready.
As Asha dug through my closet I went into the bathroom to freshen up. I used a delightful cinnamon scented soap. When I returned to my room Asha stood before my bed, staring thoughtfully at the dress she had chosen. I walked beside her and saw two dresses on the edge of my bed. One dark blue and one green. Asha glanced at me expectantly and I pointed at the blue one.
“That one, its my favorite,” I decided.
She returned the green dress to its spot in my closet and chose dark blue high heels for me to wear. Then, I retrieved my diamond necklace that had been a gift from Gaendir for my seventeenth birthday.
“Wow, you're going to look beautiful,” Asha whispered.
Asha brought me to my desk chair as she combed my hair for me. Then, she put it up in one long braid. She finished the braid by sticking small silver leaves into it. I put on a small silver flowered headband. Then, I sent Asha and the pouting Okra out of the room as I got dressed.
Fuchsia paint dappled the draperies of the great hall. Stone stairs spanned out beneath me, leading to a floor of white stone that seemed to smile at me. A thin, dark red rug ran the middle of the floor. At the opposite end of the great hall sat two golden, jewel encrusted thrones. The throne to the right looked significantly higher than the one to the left, probably belonging to the king. The great hall smelled of lemon and cinnamon, with hints of dinner foods like roasted goat and seasoned carrots. The tall windows, spanning the room, allowed bright sunshine to flow onto the guests in the great hall. Citizens of Zosa covered the floor. Some tall, some short, some pudgy, some skinny. Women and young girls wore dresses of all different colors, vibrant yellows, blues, and greens. Older men and younger boys wore tuxedos or robes.
I could feel myself blush, unaccustomed to the bright pink flushing into my cheeks. The dress I wore was long and strapless, puffing out at the bottom and thin at the torso. It was a dark blue, with intricate patterns of white vines on the bottom, top, and middle. A single flap wrapped around the dress, the same design. A dark blue shawl fitted atop my shoulders. The outfit was finished with an elegant diamond necklace fitted around my neck.
I started down the stairs towards the floor. A soft harp played to the side. Flutes played alongside it. In the center of the room, guests danced, twirled and spun in circles. I stepped down onto the ground and retrieved a small glass of red wine. I stood by the dancers and drank while I watched them. They danced, not badly, but not well either. Their movements were jerky, too...robotic. They need to lighten their joints, relax a little. One woman to my right seemed more relaxed than the others. She glided to the music like it was her own heartbeat. She danced like me.
I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and met the soft caramel eyes of the Duke.
He had a muscular build, large arms and torso, yet his face was fairly thin. His head was covered with dark black hair, short and in a ponytail. He was young for a Duke, his face soft and kind. His robes were a dark purple, accented with a dark green belt and boots. A small golden circlet fell atop his black hair.
I curtsied as I came to my senses and stopped staring at him. He chuckled.
“Good evening milady, may I ask your name?”
“Nayima Draka, my Duke.”
“A pleasure, Lady Draka,” he bowed.
“I do agree,” I grinned, curtsying once more.
“That wine is genuine, from the wineries of Western Calisite. Are you enjoying it?”
“Yes, my Duke, I am. Tis' strong,” I added.
He laughed, his eyes shining. I smiled.
“Please, call me Bartholomew,” he said, “Would you join me for a walk in the gardens? I have something to ask you.”
“It would be my honor.”
He took my arm and led me outside into the gardens. The early night air smelled of flowers. The Duke led me to a bench, between two blooming cherry blossom trees. He sat down next to me and I heard him sigh heavily.
“What is the matter?” I inquired.
He stayed silent. I folded my hands, my fingers cold.
“I have seen you dance. I watch you from my balcony. And I have seen you fight. You are amazing. But, not only can you fight and dance, but you have Udara's markings as well! You are a special woman, you know that? You are powerful in ways that you may never know. This is why I asked you here tonight,” he paused and looked at me. I watched him carefully and warily.
“The way you dance is so young and innocent and beautiful. Yet, as in your fighting, in you is a tiger, fierce and waiting to pounce.”
I smiled hesitantly, not sure where he was going.
“The Sages are on the move once again. The King does not know why, for it has been three centuries since the war. Even so, the Sages attack villages, tear apart families, and hurt innocent people. They are evil beings. I trust you believe that as well?”
“Yes...” I hesitated, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed.
“I have reason to worry for you. If they find you, and brand you, you would become a Sage when you died. You would be powerful because of those markings on your face. Too powerful. You would be a danger to Ronaria. You would no doubt be a killer, but also a traitor. I wish for you to be safe. For that to never happen.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, thinking about what he said.
“I would like to offer you a room in my palace to stay in. To live in and be safe in. I could protect you, keep the Sages from finding you. You are a Spirit Walker, if they find that out, who knows what would happen. Of course, it is you choice whether you take my offer or not. Though I hope you do.”
“Oh, I am sorry, my Duke, but I cannot take this generous offer. I need to learn to protect myself. I need not your protection, though I heed your advice to keep away from the Sages. I shall try my hardest to stay safe and lead a good life away from them,” I apologized.
I bit my lip as I lied. Udara told me to leave Zosa. I am intent on traveling to Rjivae, which lays in the heart of Moronia, the land of the Sages. I could not possibly tell him though. Why should I not? Its what I plan to do.
“It's okay, just please do heed my advice. Stay safe.”
No, I have already lied to him. Though it may not have been the wisest course of action on my part.
“It would honor me to.”
“Now, let us return to the ball,” he smiled standing and holding out his arm. I took it and we walked down the silent pathway towards the great hall of festivities.
