Many Are Called

Azveldun city was the place that I was born and grew up in. To the west lies the ocean that stretches out farther than anyone knows or dares to find out. To the east is Ganymede, our closest neighbour. She is our sister country and both the Ganymede and Azvelduns love each other. I suppose this love is helped along by a healthy merchant relationship between the two countries. To the north lie the great plains that have been the farmer’s haven since the beginning of time. The golden grasses and crystal streams that run through it are revered for their brightness. To the South are the Great Ganymede Mountains. They have been the residence of the Azveldun people for many years and I love them dearly. I have often gone there in my work for the Empire.

The entire city is diverse so much so that one can tell one time period from another as you walk down the streets. The centre of the city is where all the politics goes on. The War Court stands in the very middle along with the Imperial palace, library, the Speakers House, and the Guard Barracks. The buildings are made out of a cream colour marble that shines like gold when the sun is setting. The Shamar’s Temple stands on a hill overlooking the City.

It was at the temple that I first met the Count of Del Arroe. He was old and had short grey hair which he had pulled back. He wore orange clothes that were garish and many people stared at him with disgust and distrust. The old man came and sat down next to me. He stretched his legs out and turning to me said, “You have hair the colour of fire.”

I believed that that deserved a sarcastic remark, “Why! It is sir. I had never really noticed.” I gave a pull at my hair which lay in in curls all down my back.

“Does your temper match your hair colour?” he asked.

This time I laughed, “Yes, sir. I suppose they do match. Why do you ask?”

I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Leo and Mark, two of my little brothers, making their way towards us.

“I once knew a girl with hair as red as yours. She had great passion that could be warm or turn deadly with a word or a look.” He smiled at me, “I wanted to see if all redheads are that way.”

Leo and Mark now stood beside me, “Leo, Mark, this is…umm. Sir, I don’t know your name.”

“Count Del Arroe at your service,” The Count nodded his head at the boys, “And your names are?”

“Kara. Kara Brona, sir. And these are my brothers, Leo and Marc.”

Soon the four of us were in a deep conversation about Tory and Jinora who together made up the last and best Dragon and Rider team. The Count was clearly a brilliant man and my brothers and I sat listening to him for two hours, completely enraptured, soaking up every word.

“And so it is speculated that the dragons have returned to the mountains to breed and recover from the Great War,” Count Del Arroe finished.

“Do you think that they will ever come back,” Marc asked,

“Oh, yes. I think that because the Shamar gave them to us as a blessing, then one day they will return,” the Count said.

We stared at him in wonder then he cut it short by saying, “It’s quite late. Hadn’t you three better be off?”

I jumped up and looked at the shadows that were creeping ever so slowly towards us, “Oh, no! Mum is going to kill me!”

I grabbed Marc’s hand and said to Leo, “Quickly we have got to go now.” I turned to Count Del Arroe, “Thanks ever so much. Maybe we’ll see you again sometime? Goodbye.”

We rushed out of the Temple and passed a few priests on our way out who looked indignant about our rushing around. At the bottom of the stairs I stopped and bent down for Marc to climb onto my back. He wrapped his arms around my neck and whispered, “Kara will we be late?”

“I hope not,” I said. Mum had only allowed me to take Leo and Mark to the Temple because I had just turned seventeen and was now considered to be an adult. I didn't feel like an adult though. Plus Leo was fourteen and when he turned fifteen, because he was the son of a priest, he would spend a week in the temple with Dad. It would help him decided what he wanted to do with his life. Sometimes the Shamar, or Keeper as he was known in the common tongue, would give young people a vision to prepare them or guide them as to what they would do when they were of age.I had not received a vision. Marc was only 5 years old so he didn't understand why we had gone to the temple, but it was a beautiful place and he liked to wander round the temple.

Running through west Azveld probably isn't the best thing to do. It’s a posh part of town and we received quite a lot of dirty looks, but we were used to it. The people around here didn't like kids unless they were sixteen or older. I thought it was ridiculous. They had all been kids at some point so not liking kids now that they are adults is idiotic to say the least.

Anyway, we ignored the posh people and ran as fast as we could towards our home. It was situated on the line between posh and getting by. We had what we needed and sometimes we could get what we wanted. But we were happy most of the time because we were together.

I was starting to feel out of breath now and my arms and legs felt like mush. It was becoming hard to breath. But we were still a few streets away from home.

Marc slid off of my back and came to stand in front of me, “Kara, why did you stop?”

I couldn't speak. I was trying to get my breath back. Instead I pointed to Leo who had stopped a couple feet away from us. Leo came over to me and said, “Kara, I’ll run Marc the rest of the way home and you come at your own pace.”

I nodded my head at him and watched as Leo pulled Marc up onto his back. He rushed off while trying to dodge people that were also on their way home. I went and sat on the side of the road and tried to steady my breath. It was funny how Count Del Arroe had started talking to me. Most visitors to the Temple didn't speak to us. I was an insignificant teen. I needed to hurry and grow up so that I could enter society and help them in some way or another. The Priests were different, though. They knew my dad as one of the prophets. The older dad had gotten the more confident he had become when speaking to a congregation. But then dad had gone on a revival trip, and had come back with a high fever and complications with his stomach. Now he mainly stayed at home and tutored some of the younger priests.

Now I was breathing normally and I didn't feel like my stomach was going to get rid of my lunch. That reminded me that I was hungry. Mum would probably have made a stew with steak and potatoes for dinner tonight, with home-made bread too. My mouth started to water and I hurried along the street.

Rounding the corner I saw my home. It was hidden in between two houses that looked the same as ours. But these houses were dark even though they were painted white outside. Their owners were hardly ever home for extended periods of time so they often fell into disrepair. But ours had flowers growing along the path that led to the front door and lights shone from every window. I looked in at the dining room window that was in the front. Everyone was sitting down to dinner. There was Mum and Dad, Stephen, Leo, Marc, Lindsay, and Ethan.

Dad bowed held his hands up in the air as if in surrender and mumbled a few words that I couldn't hear but know what they would be. He was thanking the Shamar for the meal, life, and family that had been given him. When Dad looked up he saw me and smiled. I smiled back and then headed inside. I hung my coat up and took my boots off by the door. Then went and washed up before going to the table.

As I sat down Mum glanced at me, “Well, thank-you for joining us Kara,” she said. I bowed my head and said a quick thanks to the Shamar before saying anything, “I’m sorry Mama. It won’t happen again,” I said meekly.

“I should hope not,” Mum said as she passed me the bread. I picked out a fairly large piece and spread it thickly with butter. Mum watched and mumbled under her breath, “Nice figures are hard to keep.”

I winced and set the bread into my bowl. I looked down the table at Dad, “Guess what Dad?” I asked. I tried to ignore my Mum as she picked out the smallest piece of bread and put a small amount of butter on it before gingerly nibbling at it.

Dad asked. “Who did you meet that took up so much of your time?”

I smiled around the table at everyone and paused for effect before continuing, “We met a man who called himself the Count of Del Arroe.”

Mum dropped her spoon into her bowl and stared at me in what looked like horror. “And what did you say to this man?” she asked. Her tone of voice made it sound like she was accusing me.

I looked down the table at Dad and saw that he too had stopped eating and was now listening intensely. I rarely got their full and undivided attention. But when I did it scared me.

“Ummm, he spoke to me first and I answered his questions,” I stammered.

“What did you talk about?” Dad asked.

“Well, he commented on my hair colour and then he asked if I knew what Tory and Jinora had looked like. I told him that I knew what they looked like because they had been painted multiple times,” I said. I was scared know. Why was Mum so upset about our meeting with Count Del Arroe? “Did I do something wrong?” I asked.

Mum’s expression softened into one of concern, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. We will talk to you after dinner.” I finished the rest of my dinner and then went outside to wait for the little ones to go to bed. The sun was just beginning to set and I sat on the swing chair that Leo had made when he was ten.

I stayed there until the first stars were visible, then I went inside to Dad's study. I had read most of the books in here. Dad had started reading them to me when I was only a few years old. Then when I had been given more siblings Dad had less time to read to me. So I taught myself to read. And though it took a while I managed to do it and now I can devour books in just a few hours.

Mum and Dad were sitting in a sofa that was pushed up against the wall in between two bookshelves. I went and stood in front of them.Dad pointed to a chair that was in front of his desk and I brought it over to them and sat it in front of them.

“Kara, do you know who the Count of Del Arroe is to our family?” Mum asked.

I shook my head no. “He’s not Azveldun is he?” I asked.

“No one knows where the Count is really from but he is an Azveldun citizen. He is an avid worshipper of the Creator and the Shamar, though, and he tutored me when I was first learning to be a priest,” Dad said.

“And, because he tutored your father when he was a child, the Count has taken a great interest in Leo,” Mum said.

I thought about that for a second, “So he’s kept in contact all these years? And now I met him today. I don’t see how that could cause a problem.”

“Well, it doesn't usually cause problems but we received a letter from him some weeks ago,” my Dad said pulling a letter from his pocket, “and it was addressed to you.”

I took the letter from Dads hands. I didn't want to know why they had taken it and not given it to me I trusted them and yet the curiosity was too great for me to resist the urge to ask.

“So why am I just getting the letter now?” I asked.

Mum took one of my cold hands in to her warm and calloused ones. “Because Kara. The Count wants to help the Professor enrol you into a sort of training.”

“Training for what?” I asked studying the letter. The parchment was covered in ink splotches but the handwriting was beautiful.

“For a sort of Guard in King Desmond’s service,” Mum told me. “Go to bed and read the letter. In the morning if you have any questions you can ask Professor Albrecht and Leo.”

“Leo? What has Leo got to do with any of this?” I asked somewhat bewildered. If Leo had signed me up again for another one of his crazy schemes than I am going to hurt him.

Dad smiled mysteriously, “You’ll find out if you read that letter.”

Standing up I pocketed the letter and then hugged Mum and Dad good night. Sometimes we had a strained relationship but I had seen them at their best and worst. And no matter what mood my family was in I couldn't help but think about all the good times. They outweighed the bad, so that told me that we really did love each other.

I picked up a candle from the hall table and made my way upstairs to my room. My room was at the top of the house where the attic should be. But we had had it converted into a bedroom when Micah had been born because there really wasn't anywhere else for me to sleep.

Pushing open the door to my room I saw my cat, Hans, on the bed. He looked up at me with his green eyes and meowed as I got into bed.

“Then move over you old silly,” I told him. Instead he came and sat on my stomach. “Fine then but you are not staying here for long.”

I opened the letter and saw how worn it was from being read so much. It started out like this:

My Dear Lamont,

I hope that this letter finds you and your family in good health. I have recently met your son Leo at the “School for Gifted Youth” and he seems to be doing well. He told me all about the experiment that the Professor is working on and I find it to be quite fascinating. So I spoke with Professor Albrecht and found that he is looking for some young adults to help with the experiment. He believes that your daughter Kara would make an excellent addition to the volunteers that have already been accepted. She has a trait of which we wish to avail ourselves. Kara has shown great loyalty to her family and such a thing is slowly losing its grasp on society to such a point that we wish to bring it back into popularity by whatever means possible.

Now I come to the subject of this letter. The experiment is simple. To find and train a group of soldiers that will protect the King, Queen and the rest of the Royal family. I won’t tell you that it won’t be dangerous for Kara if she is accepted as one of the first of the Royal Guard. If she does make it back to you then Kara will be a completely different girl from when she left, for better or worse.

If you have any more questions concerning the experiment or what Kara and your family will gain through this then do not hesitate to ask Professor Albrecht. He is on the committee that King Desmond gathered together to help him decide on which children to allow in.

The Count of Del Arroe

I stared up at the ceiling and thought about how normal the Count had seemed. And here he was trying to talk my parents into sending me to what sounded like a death trap.Had I not met the man I would not even have finished reading his letter. But I have met him and so I don’t doubt his sanity. I just doubt his understanding of what I can do. I doubt my own ability to do anything of any worth.

Anyway, I might as well talk to the Professor. He can tell me more about the experiment and then I can make a decision about whether or not I want join the Royal Guard.