Halfstone: A Tale of the Narathlands (8 page)

Aldrick was not the first to have risen. The front door was ajar.
A cool breeze met him, bringing with it the cleansing smell of damp earth after
rainfall. He wandered to the kitchen where he found a small loaf of bread that
he claimed for breakfast, then made his way outside. Much of yesterday’s clouds
had dispersed and the golden peaks of the surrounding mountains were visible. Trees
stopped growing less than one hundred paces above where he stood. The path they
had followed to reach Jon’s had been on a gradual incline all the way from
Farguard. He was now at a higher elevation than the family home was against the
Mountains Rain. Isobel had truly chosen an isolated place to live. It was here she
had intended to raise him…

“Good morning Aldrick.” Télia was walking toward him from within
the nearby trees. She looked lovely, as always. Beams of morning sunlight shone
through the canopy and danced gracefully upon her, accentuating her natural
beauty.

Butterflies tickled his insides.

“Hello. You’re up…” He realised he hadn’t formed a complete
sentence. “Early,” he quickly added.

She smiled. “It comes with the job. I’ve been on guard since
before the dawn. Wielders tend to die in the dark, when people can sneak up on
them.”

“That’s comforting,” he said sarcastically. “Thank you though—for
being here.”

“You’re welcome.”

For a moment they stood in silence.

“Sooo, no sign of anyone or anything evil out there?” he asked.

“None.” Télia sat on a boulder next to him and stretched her neck.

Something that had stirred Aldrick’s curiosity recently came back
into his mind.

“Télia,” he began. “How did you find me in the market place that
day in Rain, before you learned my name? And in Farguard, you saw Jon and knew
he was a wielder, even before meeting him.”

She grinned up at him. “Ah, well, something which I may have
failed to mention during our journey here is that aeras, as well as a rare few
wild creatures, like ka-zchen, have the gift of sensing storm within a wielder.
It is of great advantage to us as we remain aware of our wielder’s whereabouts
when they are out of eyesight.”

“What does it feel like?” Aldrick asked, fascinated. “What do you
feel as I stand here now?”

Télia looked at him contemplatively. “It is as though you radiate
heat… but it is cool.” She shook her head. “It’s difficult to explain.”

“Does it not get annoying—being around a wielder when you can always
feel them?”

She shrugged. “We learn to live with it. It’s like any sense I suppose.
We can always see and we don’t get sick of that, do we?”

“True… is the feeling more intense when we wield our storm?”

“Your storm will surge within you, but we cannot feel storm which
has been spent, only when it is in its pure state.”

“I see. Only people who have this gift are allowed to be aeras?”

“Yes…”

“Because an aera’s job is solely to protect wielders. You are no
ordinary bodyguard.”

“No.” Télia stood up. “Aldrick, I avoided mention of this on our
journey here because it would have spoilt the big surprise for you. I saved
that for Jon. I meant not to hide things from you. I shouldn’t have… I’m
sorry.”

He smiled. “It’s fine. Really.”

“How are you coping with the whole ‘being an almighty wielder’
thing, anyway?” she asked.

Considering this was daunting. He sighed and shrugged. “It’s definitely
new.”

She laughed aloud. “Well you’re very special, you know. Inheriting
two unique abilities… many will be in awe of you.”

Aldrick was sure, or at least convinced himself he saw Télia’s
eyes dart up and down his body. He hoped she was thinking what he hoped she was
thinking.

“People might be in awe of me if I actually learn how to wield
something,” he said self-effacingly.

“Don’t worry, Jon will train you well. And, if you also wish to
learn how to wield your blade, I can teach you a thing or two. The better you
are at defending yourself, the easier my job becomes.”

“What if you’re the one who needs defending?” he asked teasingly.
“I recall it was so at Seawood Inn.”

“True.” Télia walking up to him and placed her hands firmly on her
hips. “But only after I took down the first assassin and then took a fist to
the face trying to save you.”

“… True.”

They stood staring into each other’s eyes. Hers were like
enchanted emeralds—alluring, spellbinding. His heart leapt beneath his chest,
which was strange, for he was certain she had stolen it from him days earlier.

“Both early risers I see.”

He turned. Jon had emerged from the house and was striding toward
them, donning a grand robe. It was forest green with thin strings of deep blue symbols
entangling it in intricate fern-like patterns. A fine band of gold lined the
hood. This he wore down, keeping visible his wild mane of hair. He looked
remarkably wielder-like.

Jon had noticed Aldrick staring.

“My robes?” he asked, peering down at them. “Yes, well, as we are
going to be wielding today I thought I may as well look the part.”

“You most certainly do!” exclaimed Télia. “It makes you look both
noble and wise, Jon.”

“Thank you, my dear,” he replied humbly. “They have been well
kept, though for far too long now. I am glad to be wearing them once again.”

Télia took Jon by the arm. “Come, keep me company over breakfast.”

His face lit up.

“What a charming idea,” he said delightedly. “It would be my
pleasure.”

Télia turned back to Aldrick. “Will you join us?”

“No thanks. I’m enjoying the sun. You go and eat.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

They left, chatting, toward the house. Aldrick remained standing
alone with his bread. Although heavy thoughts lingered in the recesses of his
mind, he anticipated what this new day promised—opportunity to learn how to
wield… at least, begin to learn. He tried to imagine how it was done, how it
might feel. He couldn’t recall feeling anything other than intense anger last
night when the thunder and lightning occurred. He had done nothing physically,
at least not knowingly, to induce it. Perhaps waving wands wasn’t the way to do
it in the real world.

While Aldrick pondered such things, he took time to explore the
surrounding land. He wandered into the clearing, avoiding frequent patches of
bog and thorn bushes. In the occasional hazard-free areas, tame mountain goat
and sheep grazed. He supposed Jon was their herder and profited from their meat
and milk. Further into the heart of the clearing, Aldrick stumbled across what
appeared to be the remnants of a stone wall hiding within the grass. Curious,
he followed it a short way to where he found a markedly large area where
crumbled stones lay in ruin upon the ground, overgrown by mosses and leafless
creeping vines. Some kind of fortress must have once stood here, many years
ago. Intrigued by this, he decided he would ask Jon about it. When he returned
he found Jon back outside by the stables.

“It was once a watchtower,” Jon informed him, feeding the horses
apples from a small sack. “Long ago, the Narathlands was a mighty, sprawling
empire. This valley was the main way of passage between the capital city,
Prithe, and the southern provinces. War saw the fall of the empire and the city
in turn. This valley has long since been forgotten, as was the tower.” Jon
finished feeding the horses and turned to Aldrick. “You may be surprised at just
how rich the history of the Narathlands is. It has not always been the peaceful
place it appears today.”

“It appears?”

“Evil lingers.”

“So it does. I suppose that is why we are here.”

“Yes. And why I must show you how to wield, my boy.” Jon turned
and strolled toward the house.

Aldrick followed. “Shall we begin training soon?”

“Indeed. I suspect you are eager to learn?”

“Very,” he replied excitedly. “I am ready when you are.”

“Well then, just let me fetch a thing or two and we will be off.
There is a secreted glade a little way into the forest where we can practice in
the confidence that we shan’t draw any unwanted attention. You never know who
could be wandering the mountain path—servants of the enemy perhaps!”

Aldrick thought Jon sounded a little paranoid. “No one’s going to
find us all the way out here.”

Jon wheeled around. “Words uttered by a fool! Do not make me
retell you what happened to your mother in this very place!” He stormed inside.

Aldrick was left feeling immediate regret. The murder of his
mother was a recent revelation to him. For Jon, it had been an unspeakable
tragedy in his life. Jon had sought to protect her and held more resentment for
her passing than could ever be understood.

Télia, who had been relaxing on the landing, stood and came to Aldrick.

“Don’t take Jon’s words too heavily,” she said quietly. “The many
years spent alone here have given him too much time to dwell on sad things.”

“No, it was my own fault,” Aldrick mumbled, annoyed with himself.
“My words were thoughtless.”

He made his way inside, where he found Jon removing a long, thin
object wrapped in cloth from a wooden chest underneath the stairs.

“Jon, I—” he started, but was interrupted.

“There is no need to apologise, my boy,” Jon said briskly. “It was
I who spoke out of turn. Let us put it behind us and focus on the future.” He
pulled the cloth from the object. At first glance it appeared to be a walking
stick, though there were notable differences. Instead of a conveniently carved
grip at its head, there was a pale blue oval stone, about the size of crow’s
egg. This was fastened in place upon a gold collar. The shaft was fashioned
from a dark wood. A strange spiralling pattern wound from end to end, interrupted
midway by a leather-bound grip.

Aldrick gasped. “Is that—”

“Yes, this is a staff,” said Jon, inspecting it closely. “Many
years have passed since I last held it.” He took the staff firmly in one hand
and brandished it before him. Aldrick saw him now as not just a wielder, but a
powerful one, one whose day was far from over. “Come, let us begin.” Jon strode
past Aldrick and out the door.

He and Télia followed Jon along a narrow, overgrown trail behind
the house that led them a short way through the forest to a small glade. Here,
the ground was unlike that at the centre of the valley. It was level and the
grass that claimed it, though overgrown, was greener, as if it had once been
tended to. Near the far edge lay a collection of oddly out-of-place boulders. Some
of these were cracked and, in places, black scorch marks were visible on them,
noticeable only because no mosses or lichens clung to them. The trees closest
to the boulders were grey and lifeless.

“This is where I used to practise wielding,” said Jon, walking a
short way into the glade and looking around. He raised his staff and waved it
slowly from side to side. The grass began to rustle then, all at once, fell
flat against the ground.

Aldrick was dumbstruck.

“Ah…” he managed, mouth gaping open.

Jon chuckled. “Don’t get too excited. The staff is to stay with
me,” he said, then, noticing Aldrick’s continued expression of awe, “it is used
to intensify the effects of storm wielding.”

“How does it do that?”

“The shaft is fashioned from the wood of the rare lelylan tree. It
conducts storm brilliantly. And the gemstone,” Jon gestured to the blue oval at
the tip of the staff, “is far more efficient at emitting it than our own body.
Put the two together and we have a tool that intensifies our powers
significantly.”

“Awesome.”

“Yes, but like I said, you’re not getting your hands on it. You’re
just a beginner, my boy.”

“Then show me the way, master,” Aldrick joked.

“Very well then.”

Jon rested the staff on the ground, stood up and stretched, then
paused all of a sudden, like he had just remembered something. “We are ahead of
ourselves, Aldrick. You need to understand just what the heck storm is. We have
only touched on the subject until now.” He scratched his beard and stared down
thoughtfully for a time before continuing. “In truth, its nature remains
peculiar and elusive. It is believed to be some kind of energy, a life-force
which exists in everything… most things. It spills from the heart of this world
and flows around every corner of it. If you imagine our sun—always emitting
energy,” Jon performed some wild gestures with his hands, “well, that is what
the heart of the world is believed to do, except the energy emitted is not only
heat or light… but storm as well.”

“And, so… why do wielders have the ability to control it?” Aldrick
asked, bemused. “And how is it that certain things like lelylan wood react to
it in unique ways?”

“We believe it has something to do with the physical nature of
these things, though the specifics of this theory are unwritten. There is
currently research into the elements of physicality being undertaken at
Delthendra which may one day shed light on such questions. Until then, we must
assume our ability to hold storm within us is a blessing, as are the rare
things in this world which improve our ability to wield it.”