King of Sword and Sky
Page 95
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
The grounds were silent, all eyes upon him.
"You have heard by now that the Mages have returned. Celieria needs our aid." His eyes roved over the gathered warriors, seeing the knowledge reflected back in their grim, stony faces.
"Evil has risen in Eld once more. It casts its shadow over our neighbor. Celieria cannot survive without our help, and so we must give it. Because, as the words written on the Bor Chakai remind us each time we pass through the Warriors' Gate, fighting is what Fey were born to do."
He looked around at the faces of the Fey, most of whom had fought in the last Mage Wars, and saw the same memory, the same realization on many of them. They knew exactly what he was asking of them, exactly what grim evil they would face if the Mages had grown strong again, but they knew that facing such evil was the task the gods had set upon them.
"But we have grown too few, my brothers. We will not long last against an Eld army even a quarter of the size we faced in the Mage Wars. That is the reason I gathered you here today." Rain crossed his arms and widened his stance, instinctively bracing for the storm about to erupt around him. "I'm certain you've all heard how the Feyreisa restored a dahl'reisen's soul—and not just any dahl'reisen, but the Dark Lord, Gaelen vel Serranis, himself." All eyes went to the tall, icy-eyed warrior standing to Rain's left. "He has spent most of the last thousand years fighting Eld on the borders. I asked him here to teach those of you who are willing to learn from him."
"You want us to accept…him … as our chatok?" Outraged exclamations sprang from the lips of the gathered Fey.
"I do," Rain said. "Bel, Tajik, show them why."
The two warriors exchanged a brief glance, then shimmered into invisibility.
"An invisibility weave," scoffed Tael vel Eilan, one of Tenn's youngest cousins. "Any Spirit master here could do as much."
"Could he?" Rain arched a brow. "Let's put that to the test." He cast a cool gaze over the assembly. "Which among you claim a master's level in Spirit?" Thousands of hands rose. "Excellent. Then among you, you should have no trouble discovering where my two friends went." He waited, but the warriors lowered their hands and glanced around in confusion, clearly unable to discern where Tajik and Bel had gone. "You cannot find them? But invisibility is a simple weave. Any Spirit master should easily be able to detect them."
He let a full chime pass, giving the warriors ample time to find their prey, then pinned Tael with a challenging glance. "It seems this Spirit weave is not so simple after all. Perhaps you can tell me where my friends are? Nei? Shall I show you? Very well. My brothers, reveal yourselves."
As quickly as they had shimmered into invisibility, the two warriors reappeared. Tajik was standing behind one of the Spirit masters, Fey'cha held at his neck.
Bel was at Tael's side, holding the younger Fey's steel in his hands.
The young warrior clutched the empty space where his Fey'cha harnesses and meicha belts should have been. "How … ?"
Bel thrust Tael's weapons belts back into his hands. "Arrogance is no substitute for experience, Fey. You might consider that perhaps—just perhaps—a Fey who survived most of the last thousand years battling Eld along the Celierian border might have a thing or two he could teach you about magic—and survival."
Leaving the young warrior flushed red and fumbling to don his stripped weapons, Bel returned to stand at Gaelen's side.
The former dahl'reisen cast Bel a sidelong glance and a faint smirk. "I'm touched, vel Jelani. I had no idea how much you cared."
Bel grimaced and rolled his eyes, which made Gaelen laugh softly.
Rain raised his voice to address the gathered warriors. "That Spirit weave was a technique Gaelen taught these warriors in less than a day. Can you imagine how such a skill might serve you on the battlefield?"
The lu'tan were nodding, but many of the gathered Fey still looked skeptical, and several outright hostile.
"Fancy weaves don't change the fact that he walked the Shadowed Path," one of the Fey called out. "His presence besmirches the honor of all chatok who have taught within these walls."
"Changed times call for changed attitudes," Rain replied. "War is coming. Our ancient enemy has risen again, and grown strong while we have grown weak. I will not turn away a Fey who was once counted among our swiftest and surest blades." Rain let his gaze travel the length and breadth of the training ground. "What punishment the gods passed upon him for his crimes has been paid, and he has been given new life so that he may serve the Fading Lands once more. The guardians of the Mists judged him worthy—even the Warriors' Gate welcomed him as a blade brother and a champion of the Light. Will you do any less?"
He waited for his words to sink in, then said, "In a moment, the warriors' gong will ring." As was the custom for any training day in the Academy, each of the Academy's chatok would strike a blow to call the chadin to order. "Those who refuse to learn from one who was once dahl'reisen may leave before Gaelen strikes his blow"—he turned to regard the gathered mentors of the Academy—"as may any chatok who refuses to accept him into their honored company. I will not hold you in any less esteem for your decision. I know this is a difficult thing I ask, and I know it will be troubling to many. If you choose to remain, that choice will serve as your sworn and binding oath that you will give Gaelen vel Serranis the respect any other chatok commands."
"You have heard by now that the Mages have returned. Celieria needs our aid." His eyes roved over the gathered warriors, seeing the knowledge reflected back in their grim, stony faces.
"Evil has risen in Eld once more. It casts its shadow over our neighbor. Celieria cannot survive without our help, and so we must give it. Because, as the words written on the Bor Chakai remind us each time we pass through the Warriors' Gate, fighting is what Fey were born to do."
He looked around at the faces of the Fey, most of whom had fought in the last Mage Wars, and saw the same memory, the same realization on many of them. They knew exactly what he was asking of them, exactly what grim evil they would face if the Mages had grown strong again, but they knew that facing such evil was the task the gods had set upon them.
"But we have grown too few, my brothers. We will not long last against an Eld army even a quarter of the size we faced in the Mage Wars. That is the reason I gathered you here today." Rain crossed his arms and widened his stance, instinctively bracing for the storm about to erupt around him. "I'm certain you've all heard how the Feyreisa restored a dahl'reisen's soul—and not just any dahl'reisen, but the Dark Lord, Gaelen vel Serranis, himself." All eyes went to the tall, icy-eyed warrior standing to Rain's left. "He has spent most of the last thousand years fighting Eld on the borders. I asked him here to teach those of you who are willing to learn from him."
"You want us to accept…him … as our chatok?" Outraged exclamations sprang from the lips of the gathered Fey.
"I do," Rain said. "Bel, Tajik, show them why."
The two warriors exchanged a brief glance, then shimmered into invisibility.
"An invisibility weave," scoffed Tael vel Eilan, one of Tenn's youngest cousins. "Any Spirit master here could do as much."
"Could he?" Rain arched a brow. "Let's put that to the test." He cast a cool gaze over the assembly. "Which among you claim a master's level in Spirit?" Thousands of hands rose. "Excellent. Then among you, you should have no trouble discovering where my two friends went." He waited, but the warriors lowered their hands and glanced around in confusion, clearly unable to discern where Tajik and Bel had gone. "You cannot find them? But invisibility is a simple weave. Any Spirit master should easily be able to detect them."
He let a full chime pass, giving the warriors ample time to find their prey, then pinned Tael with a challenging glance. "It seems this Spirit weave is not so simple after all. Perhaps you can tell me where my friends are? Nei? Shall I show you? Very well. My brothers, reveal yourselves."
As quickly as they had shimmered into invisibility, the two warriors reappeared. Tajik was standing behind one of the Spirit masters, Fey'cha held at his neck.
Bel was at Tael's side, holding the younger Fey's steel in his hands.
The young warrior clutched the empty space where his Fey'cha harnesses and meicha belts should have been. "How … ?"
Bel thrust Tael's weapons belts back into his hands. "Arrogance is no substitute for experience, Fey. You might consider that perhaps—just perhaps—a Fey who survived most of the last thousand years battling Eld along the Celierian border might have a thing or two he could teach you about magic—and survival."
Leaving the young warrior flushed red and fumbling to don his stripped weapons, Bel returned to stand at Gaelen's side.
The former dahl'reisen cast Bel a sidelong glance and a faint smirk. "I'm touched, vel Jelani. I had no idea how much you cared."
Bel grimaced and rolled his eyes, which made Gaelen laugh softly.
Rain raised his voice to address the gathered warriors. "That Spirit weave was a technique Gaelen taught these warriors in less than a day. Can you imagine how such a skill might serve you on the battlefield?"
The lu'tan were nodding, but many of the gathered Fey still looked skeptical, and several outright hostile.
"Fancy weaves don't change the fact that he walked the Shadowed Path," one of the Fey called out. "His presence besmirches the honor of all chatok who have taught within these walls."
"Changed times call for changed attitudes," Rain replied. "War is coming. Our ancient enemy has risen again, and grown strong while we have grown weak. I will not turn away a Fey who was once counted among our swiftest and surest blades." Rain let his gaze travel the length and breadth of the training ground. "What punishment the gods passed upon him for his crimes has been paid, and he has been given new life so that he may serve the Fading Lands once more. The guardians of the Mists judged him worthy—even the Warriors' Gate welcomed him as a blade brother and a champion of the Light. Will you do any less?"
He waited for his words to sink in, then said, "In a moment, the warriors' gong will ring." As was the custom for any training day in the Academy, each of the Academy's chatok would strike a blow to call the chadin to order. "Those who refuse to learn from one who was once dahl'reisen may leave before Gaelen strikes his blow"—he turned to regard the gathered mentors of the Academy—"as may any chatok who refuses to accept him into their honored company. I will not hold you in any less esteem for your decision. I know this is a difficult thing I ask, and I know it will be troubling to many. If you choose to remain, that choice will serve as your sworn and binding oath that you will give Gaelen vel Serranis the respect any other chatok commands."