Dragons and Demons, page 13
Azeria gasped and looked at Rezkin as though seeing some beast risen from the dead.
Rezkin nodded. “SenGoka. I did not know what they were at the time.”
“That is not possible (alarmed),” said Azeria. “He cannot wield the power of Nihko.”
“No,” said Entris, “but they wielded it on him (appalled).”
Rezkin’s gaze flicked from Entris to Azeria and back. What knowledge he could gain from Entris was worth sharing a bit of his own, he decided. “From what I have been told, the SenGoka were sent to the king, my father, by a Knight of Mikayal. They claimed me as a babe and together with the strikers trained me to become a warrior unlike any other. I was told that I was not a mage—that I had no power. I did not know that I wielded any power until recently.”
Entris nodded slowly. “Yes, that is probably what saved you from the madness thus far. They taught you to suppress your power, using only a trickle for minor tasks such as hiding those markings. How do you suppress it?”
Rezkin shook his head. “I do not know. I know not how the power works.”
“He has no feelings,” said Azeria. “He said as much. He must have been taught to repress those as well (revolted).”
Entris nodded slowly. “As I mentioned before, we do not use spells as human mages do. The power of the Spirétua, of all of the Eihelvanan, is fueled and guided by our emotions. If you are repressing your emotions, then you may wield little or no power (concerned).”
“I do not see how that is possible,” said Rezkin. “I have seen few enough emotions from any of you.”
Azeria said, “Just because we do not show them, does not mean we do not have them (irritated). We feel quite deeply, more so than humans, I am sure.”
Rezkin looked from Azeria to Entris. Entris said, “She speaks truth. Our emotions are the soul of our culture. All that we are and do is guided by them. Our faces do not show our feelings as with humans, but we share them through our actions and our words. I had thought that you were like us—you hide your emotions well. But if what you say is true, and you truly do not feel them, then you will never be capable of wielding your power. If you wish to truly be Spirétua, you must learn to not only feel but to harness those feelings and focus them to your will (earnest).”
“It is better this way,” said Azeria. “If he does not wield the power, then he may not go mad (cautious).”
“You would deny him the very soul of his existence (appalled)?” said Entris.
“If it means preventing him from becoming that which we must fight (determined).”
The two of them began arguing in earnest but in a language Rezkin could barely comprehend. As they did so, he began revisiting all that had happened since he left the fortress. No, it did not start with leaving the fortress. It began with finding his friends. At first, he felt nothing, as was consistent with his training. Over time, though, he had become closer to them. He had developed feelings of concern, of protectiveness. Then he remembered the short outbursts of anger and hurt that he felt in his chest and the deeper pains to his heart that he had come to identify as loss. There were times when he had been confused by the way he felt around Frisha and his frustration with her constant ability to find trouble. He had even claimed a cat—or had she claimed him?—and he had been overwhelmed with anger when he thought Bilior had eaten Cat.
Rezkin realized that he had not been the emotionless warrior he was supposed to be. He had been feeling emotions for far longer and more frequently than he had realized. The most disturbing to him had been at the citadel. He had been suffused with a sense of calm and serenity ever since stepping foot within its doors, and only the stone he wore around his neck had kept him from becoming overwhelmed by it.
Rezkin abruptly noticed the two Eihelvanan in his presence had stopped arguing and were both staring at him. He said, “I have realized that I have been having some feelings, especially since entering the citadel of Caellurum.”
Entris nodded. “You have bonded with the citadel. No doubt you have noticed the crystals that fuel its power. The crystals can only hold power for so long. They must be recharged. They are enchanted to absorb the energy of the Spirétua who live there. You will have felt the shift of power through you.”
“The citadel is syphoning power from me?”
“Yes, but it also helps to refuel you. A Spirétua has access to unlimited power. Our wells recharge constantly. With many Spirétua living in the citadel, it would be continually fed to overcapacity, at which point, it would begin to fuel the Spirétua when they are low. You have been drained of power at all times due to your lifestyle of deprivation. You do not eat or sleep nearly enough, and you function physically and mentally at a level that does not allow you to replenish your energy. I believe the SenGoka taught you this way intentionally. Once you entered the citadel, though, it sensed your depletion and began feeding you power. You would have felt revitalized, calm, and peaceful, except that you are wearing that (repulsed).” He nodded toward where the stone rested against Rezkin’s chest beneath his shirt.
Rezkin pulled the stone from its hiding place and held it up so that he could see it clearly. “I did not care for the feelings the citadel impressed upon me. With them came paranoia. I, at times, felt as if I was truly going mad. I realized that this stone took away those feelings.”
“As your well was replenished, the madness began to seize you.” Entris nodded toward the stone. “The vagri has also bonded with you. It drains your energy for its own use. You should dispose of it. It will never quicken, and it keeps you weak (cautious).”
“No, he should keep it,” said Azeria. “Keeping him weak means preventing the madness (earnest).”
“Without his energy, without his emotions, he is not a whole person (despondent).”
“He does not need to be a whole person—just a sane one (guarded).”
“I agree with Azeria,” said Rezkin. The woman looked surprised for the briefest moment before her face was shrouded in apathy once again. “I have no use for emotions, and I do not need them. Weakness, however, cannot be tolerated. Now, more than ever, I need strength. The demons are upon us.”
“Daem’ahn?” said Entris with alarm. “Then you are aware they are in your midst.”
Rezkin nodded. “We have encountered several. I believe they are being summoned in Ashai, my home. I am not the only offspring of my parents. I have two brothers. One is missing, presumed dead, but the oldest is king of Ashai. He has been wreaking havoc on the kingdom and its neighbors for several months. It is rumored that he killed our father and brother. I believe he may be the source of the demons. Everyone says he is mad. What if he is also Spirétua?”
Entris glanced at Azeria then said, “If this is true, then it is my responsibility to find and destroy him.”
“That is ultimately my goal,” said Rezkin. “It is my mantle to bear. My brother has surrounded himself with an army and all the mages of the kingdom, and even as he works to tear down that kingdom, they do his bidding. So, you see, I cannot stay here. I must find my friend and save him if I can, I must fight the daem’ahn, and I must unseat and kill the mad king.” Rezkin considered not saying the last part, but if he wanted their help, they would need to know. “There is also the matter of the deal I made with the ahn’an.”
“You made a deal with the ahn’an (shocked)?” said Entris.
Azeria scoffed. “He is already mad. We should kill him now (fearful).”
Rezkin told them of the deal he had made with Bilior to provide an army in exchange for the safe haven that was Cael. Even Entris could not hide his disapproval over hearing of the deal, but he seemed intrigued that it was Bilior who had led Rezkin to the citadel.
“The ahn’an recognized your power for what it was,” said Entris. “From what you have said, I believe you made a deal for something other than what you believe.”
Something in Rezkin’s stomach curled tightly at the implication. “What is it you think I have done?”
“A human army, even one with mages, will not be enough to fight the daem’ahn should they be summoned in force as you believe they are. The ancients made this deal with you (disgruntled). They defined you by your power, believing you to be Eihelvanan. When they demand an army, they do not seek a human army.”
The tightness in his stomach clenched into a knot. “You mean they expect I will bring them an army of the Eihelvanan?”
Entris nodded. “They know that we are sworn to fight the daem’ahn any time they appear (determined).”
Things suddenly made sense. Bilior had told Rezkin on more than one occasion that they were coming. He now believed that the ahn’an knew the Eihelvanan would respond once he had bonded with the citadel, intentionally setting things into motion by sending him to Caellurum in the first place. Bilior knew he would trigger the enchantments that would alert the Eihelvanan to his presence. Whether he and his people had lived or died made little difference to the ahn’an. The Eihelvanan would be forced into the battle by the sheer existence of demons in their midst.
Rezkin had thought he had the upper hand in his deal with the ahn’an. It seemed so much simpler for him to build the army that he was already intending to create than for the ahn’an to keep his people safe as he attempted to claim the enchanted island. As it turned out, he had not been betting on the game with full knowledge of the players and consequences. The many warnings of lore against making deals with the ahn’an echoed in his mind, and for the first time, he felt the fool. Still, all that he had done had led him to this point, and he had more answers now than he ever would have been able to obtain otherwise. If he had it to do over again, he would make the same choice. He thought perhaps he was the fool twice over.
“This changes things (anxious),” said Entris. “I must speak with the syek-lyé before the morrow. Azeria will see to you in the meantime.”
Azeria scowled at Entris as the man moved away from the fire, and she and Rezkin were left alone. The woman held out her hand and clenched it into a fist. As she did so, the flame in the pit extinguished. She said, “Come. If I must spend time with you, we shall do something useful (frustrated).”
Chapter 7
Rezkin followed Azeria around the side of the building and into the training yard. Eihelvanan of varying ages occupied the open space. They appeared to be as young as ten and as old as fifty, although Rezkin could not presume to know their true ages. Entris looked to be no older than his late twenties, yet he claimed to be nearly a hundred and sixty years old. Rezkin could only imagine how old someone appearing to be in their fifties truly was and how long they had worked to perfect their Skills. He could not afford to underestimate them. All of those in the yard were practicing their martial skills, some with weapons, some without. They were all very fast, though. In fact, he was having trouble observing their Skills, despite his training. He wondered briefly if these people were using their power to bolster their speed, and he posed the question to Azeria.
“That is a skill that we occasionally use in battle, but it drains our wells sometimes too quickly to recover.” She flicked a hand toward some of those who were sparring. “Here we are not using our power. This is practice for physical endurance and skill alone. Entris will work with you to use your power if he decides to do so. I think that would be a bad idea (wary).”
“You do not like me much,” Rezkin observed.
“No, I do not (earnest).”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact that you will go mad and destroy anyone and anything with which you come into contact?”
Rezkin gave her a reproachful look. “Yes, besides that.”
Azeria strode to the weapons rack and picked up two staves. She tossed one to him and walked to an empty space, expecting him to follow. She set her stance, waiting for him to do the same. Rezkin examined the stave. It was slightly heavier than those used by humans, and even this practice stave had metal caps on the ends. He spun it, testing the balance, then nodded toward her.
Azeria did not delay. She stepped forward and swung directly at his head. She said, “First of all, I do not like humans.”
Rezkin dodged and swung his stave toward her legs. She jumped over it with ease then twisted hers toward his shoulder before shifting her grip and thrusting the opposite end toward his sternum. Rezkin blocked the attempted strike at the same time as he spun, bringing the stave around toward the back of her head. He said, “Entris says I am not human.”
Azeria ducked and swept her stave backward as she turned. Rezkin rolled under the swipe but before he could recover, her stave smacked him in the back of the head. He blocked the next strike, but her stave moved faster than he could anticipate straight into his abdomen. He doubled over but dropped to the ground before the other end connected with his back. He rolled and recovered his feet just in time to avoid another attempt at his head. He swung his own weapon, striking one of Azeria’s feet. She easily recovered, dancing over the stave as if the moves were choreographed. Her movements became more rapid, spinning in a blur, and before Rezkin knew it, he was on his back with the metal cap of the stave pressed into his throat.
“You are human enough,” she spat as she looked down on him.
Rezkin was surprised but not shocked. It had been a long time since he had been beaten, but before he had only human opponents to fight. The Eihelvanan were much faster than anyone he had ever fought, including the SenGoka. As she stepped back, he got to his feet.
“I bet you three saboli that he can be faster,” said a male who approached from behind Azeria.
Azeria turned and bowed. “Elder Jao’hwin,” she said respectfully. She glanced at Rezkin, the scorn evident in her fiery gaze if nothing else. “I respectfully disagree,” she said through clenched teeth.
Jao’hwin nodded once and said, “Then you take the bet?”
“I do (skeptical).”
Jao’hwin held out his hand for her stave. As she handed over the weapon, he looked at Rezkin. “It is only obvious by your ears,” the man said thoughtfully. “In all other respects, you look to be one of us (earnest).”
Rezkin said, “I have never before been told I was slow—not since I was a small-man. You believe I can be faster?”
“Your problem is you have not been challenged,” said Jao’hwin. “You will only become fast enough to defeat your opponents, and your opponents have been human (reassuring). I will teach you a sequence of moves. Then we will do them together.”
The elder’s stave slapped against Rezkin’s indicating that he should set himself. The man swung the stave over and around, forward and in reverse. It was a dance filled with smooth shifts and abrupt stops. When he was finished, Rezkin nodded and performed the same series of moves. Jao’hwin gave him a nod of approval then moved to stand across from Rezkin. They then began the dance together with Rezkin performing the assigned moves and Jao’hwin answering them. Their staves clacked together and slid off each other every so often. When they had completed the moves, they moved seamlessly into the pattern again. Round after round they performed the same sequence, each time getting faster.
It was not long before Rezkin felt himself pushing to meet the man’s next move. He began to breathe heavier, and his muscles strained to keep pace. There was no time for talk or question, no time for thought or doubt. Jao’hwin’s movements accelerated to nearly a blur, and Rezkin met each one with extreme effort. At the very instant that Rezkin felt overwhelmed, the butt of the elder’s stave smashed into his sternum thrusting him several feet before he finally struck the ground.
Jao’hwin and Azeria kept their distance as Rezkin recovered. Although the pain lancing through his chest was significant, Rezkin did not show his discomfort. It was not difficult to accept that someone had the Skills necessary to defeat him. It had not been that long ago that he had completed his training. He was used to the masters and strikers making him suffer. Only now, Rezkin had little to no confidence regarding the instructor’s intentions. There was no agreement or understanding between himself and any of the Eihelvanan, and everything they had done so far was for the strict purpose of testing his sanity and threat level.
The elder looked to Azeria and held out his hand. She huffed and took something out of a pouch at her belt before handing it to him. “He was not that much faster,” she said, and it was not difficult to hear the lie in her words.
Jao’hwin barked a laugh that jarred Rezkin. He had not thought it a sound the Eihelvanan were familiar with, but, apparently, they did have some sense of humor. “If you push him, he will adjust (confident). He is more Eihelvanan than you think, Azeria (earnest).”
The elder inhaled deeply, then he and everyone else in the yard abruptly began replacing their weapons in the racks and moving toward the building. Rezkin had not seen nor heard a signal, yet something had alerted them of the time. The scent of something sweet and smokey tickled his senses.
Azeria smirked. “It is sweetwood. The kitchen staff burn it when it is time for dinner. Come.”
“I ate only a couple of hours ago,” said Rezkin.
She shook her head. “You can eat again. Entris has deemed your weakness unacceptable. Until I am told otherwise, I must assist in strengthening you (irritated).”
As they walked toward the dining hall, Rezkin said, “You are a general, yes?”
“I am.”
“But you answer to Entris?”
“Yes and no. He is Spirétua. I am not. Therefore, he is of a higher order.”
“And I am Spirétua.”
Her gaze flicked to him, and by the way her jaw clenched, he could tell she did not like being reminded of the fact. “Yes, but you are human. Human Spirétua must be killed (determined).” He could tell by the heat in her gaze that she meant what she said. He noted her intent as she continued. “Entris is the Spirétua-lyé. He is responsible for the well-being and actions of all of the Spirétua, including you. Until the Syek-lyé orders your death, Entris will insist on assisting you in becoming the greatest you can be.
