The Callindra Chronicles Book One - First Quest (8 page)

“
When that failed? What does
that mean?”

Glarian sighed sadly, pressing his palms flat
onto the hilt and flat of his sword. “I had to kill a few of them.
They left me no choice; when they attacked one after another I
couldn’t defend myself without taking lives. Killing their weapons
would have tired me to the point of defeat. When they realized they
couldn’t defeat me in single combat, they surrounded me and forced
me to take oaths never to practice or teach magic again.

“
From the moment we met,
some part of me knew you would bring me to break those oaths
Callindra. They were taken against my will and therefore I do not
regret breaking them, although doing so will likely cost me my
life. You are my most worthy student and the one who shall inherit
my style and my Title.” He let that sink in and she gradually
realized what he was trying to say.

“
What do you mean? I’m no
mage, I don’t like magic Master, I just want to learn The Sword.”
She started to feel the fear encroaching on her calm again, a
breeze tousled her hair and she nearly jumped to her
feet.

“
You are an awakening mage
Callindra, nothing can stop that. Your unfortunate contact with
Daleus seems to have accelerated your body’s ability to channel the
Weave. Even as we speak the winds have been reflecting your mood.
If I hadn’t gotten you to calm down you very well might have
summoned a tornado right here in the courtyard.”

“
WHAT?” She was trying hard
not to panic but this was too much. Winds tore through the clearing
and with each gust they grew more violent. Glarian didn’t bat an
eye; he sat like a boulder in the middle of a stream. The winds
seemed to slow as they neared him.

“
Remember your training
Callindra. The first Korumn is of the breath.” He began the
breathing exercise and she joined by reflex. To her amazement, she
could see tiny shining threads flowing into his nose as he breathed
in and then arc gracefully out of his mouth when he
exhaled.

He opened his eyes with a smile “So you can
see it? Being able to see the Weave is the beginning. I will now
teach you the second Korumn. It is of release.”

Glarian led Callindra through the Stances
slowly, one at a time. He was much more strict than normal,
correcting even what appeared to be inconsequential mistakes; the
position of her foot a few inches to the left or the angle of her
arm down slightly.

The last rays of sun had gone and the
practice yard was now illuminated by the full moon. Callindra felt
an uncomfortable tightness in her entire body, as though she was
swelling from within. She looked at a hand that shook from
exhaustion.

“
I know you’re tired
Apprentice, but now you must perform the entire second Korumn from
start to finish without making a single mistake. You have built up
too much power within yourself and since it’s rooted in fear it is
the most dangerous of all. This Korumn will allow you to safely let
go of the Weave you have gathered without injuring yourself or
others.”

Callindra nodded slowly, noting the myriad of
glowing threads that seemed to be swirling around and through her
for the first time. All those times she had wondered at the wind
gusting around her… had been this? An involuntary shiver coursed
down her spine as she moved her body to assume the Ready Stance. To
her surprise, Glarian moved to stand next to her.

“
Let us do this as one
Callindra.” Together they moved through the intricate motions of
the Korumn of Release. She could feel the pressure building even
further as they linked each of the Stances together; it burned
inside her like a forest fire. Her steps began to falter, her weak
leg shook with the effort of holding her upright and sweat poured
down her body.

“
You must complete the
Korumn Callindra, all the way to the end.” The tension in Glarian’s
voice spurred her on and she pushed through the pain and fatigue;
if she couldn’t do this she might die. She might take him with her.
The final Stance was the most difficult, but also her favorite. A
leaping spinning motion that ended with a powerful downward strike,
the blade stopping inches from the ground. Her left leg crumpled
underneath her as she completed the landing of the last Stance,
driving Callindra to one knee.

Instead of the gentle feeling of relaxation
she had been experiencing thus far when performing it, a violent
torrent of wind exploded from the tip of her sword, striking an
ancient elm tree that shaded the house. The elm exploded into
splinters, no piece of the tree remained that was larger than her
palm. What remained of the trunk looked hacked off at a hundred
angles as though slashed with a myriad of impossibly hard and
unbelievably sharp blades. The blade of her sword ended in a jagged
break a mere hand span from the hilt.

“
Absent Gods.” She
collapsed, completely drained. “What was that?”

Glarian helped her stand, a look of pride
warring with concern on his face. “Confirmation that I was right to
begin your training now, with that much power built up inside of
yourself you could have leveled the house in your sleep.”

He didn’t say that she likely would have
killed them both, or mention what could have happened if she had
released that torrent in a direction other than the tree.

“
Now you realize the
importance of using the correct positioning when performing a
Korumn.” He said as he helped her back to the house.

“
My sword is gone. How will
I train now?” She felt tears begin to sting the corners of her
eyes. That blade had been her companion for months.

“
I was hoping that one would
last a little longer but we’ll try again tomorrow.” Glarian’s voice
had a strangely gentle timbre. “Fear not my apprentice; nothing
will keep me from completing your training.” She scrubbed an
exhausted hand across her eyes and followed him. Was that
resignation or something else in his voice?

Once in the house, she attempted to go
straight to bed, but Glarian forestalled her. He made her sit
before the fire and while he filled the tub from the cistern he
ordered her to stay awake.

“
I don’t want to bandage
your hands while you sleep; it’s much easier to get them tight when
you’re awake.” He explained, “You can set that hilt down on the
table too. We can start a wall of failed steel for you
tomorrow.”

Callindra sat numbly and looked at her hands.
To her surprise, the right was still clenching her sword hilt. The
left was raw and bleeding, each of the lines on her palm that a
fortune teller might use to tell her future was bleeding as though
cut with a razor. She set the sword hilt on her lap and saw her
right hand was the same.

“
That is what happens when
you lose control of your power Apprentice.” Glarian was carrying an
earthenware pot of some lightly fragrant substance and some clean
linen bandages. “This salve is made from the pollen of Brightstar
flowers; it’s a healing balm that will help your hands.”

He took her hands and carefully dabbed the
salve into her abused palms. It did sting as she feared, but it
faded quickly from the feeling of being jabbed by needles to
something akin to the sun shining on her skin.

Glarian had finished bandaging her hands and
was holding a cup of warm tea out to her. “Drink this while you are
in your bath. Don’t worry about scrubbing, this is to soak the
soreness out of your muscles. It’s important not to get your hands
wet while they are healing.”

He gave her privacy to strip and clamber
awkwardly into the bath, he had put some herbs in the water too.
Presently she smelled burning tac and knew he was on the front
stoop smoking. She sat in the tub with the water all the way to her
neck, holding her hands on the sides to keep the bandages dry and
let the tension soak out of her muscles. Her mind was completely
blank but something tickled on the outside of her awareness.

“
Belach. How comes the
work?” Glarian's voice echoed hollowly.

“
It is heating for the one
thousand sixteenth and final fold.” A rough voice rumbled like
thunder. “I am using metal from a fallen star and it is reluctant
to melt even under the fires of Majiera. Every time it takes longer
and if the temper is to be properly completed perhaps another
month.”

“
I will make do for a month.
You have my thanks.”

“
You can’t come pick it up
yourself you stubborn bastard.”

Callindra seemed to fly away from her body,
feeling winds rushing past her face. She spun faster and higher,
crossing unknown lands with vast forests, a tree reaching past the
heavens themselves, over rivers so wide they seemed to be lakes,
across an unending sheet of ice to a mountain with cinders and ash
issuing from its summit.

She plunged down the cone and there stood an
impossibly large creature. It stood taller than a keep in the
center of a pool of molten rock, with horns twice as long as a man
protruding from its head and wings that were larger than the sails
of a ship, even when folded against its back. The creature’s skin
was black but cracked all over and in the seam of these cracks the
light of magma gleamed forth. Enormous black chains, each bigger
around than a wagon ran from a thick spiked collar around its neck
to the four points of the compass, their ends looping around
pillars of sheer ice.

Standing at a forge that was on a shelf of
rock level with the creature’s head was a man with arms like tree
trunks. The ground beneath his feet was covered with half-finished
and broken weapons, each one appeared to her eyes to be a flawless
masterpiece and yet he trod on them as though they were trash.
Above his head, a myriad of delicate shapes fluttered and flitted
in the heat from the forge. Callindra realized these were
butterflies made from razor thin sheets of metal, each one
blackened by the smoke of the fire that burned beneath them,
suspended solely by the heat coming from below.

The smith spoke, “You can’t come pick it up
because The fucking Order watches this place. You know they have
been waiting for the day that you would break your oath. I will
bring it to you my friend.” He paused and looked right at her, “You
don’t need to check up on my work you crazy bitch, you can see he
is making himself ready for your hand.” He gestured toward the
forge and she saw a slender arc of metal heating in the fire. It
called to her, seeming to pulse as though it had a heartbeat.

“
This is a dangerous thing
you’re doing. I see you’ve come further along than he anticipated
though, I’d better hurry. Take her the hell home.”

One of the metal butterflies from the air
above the forge left the company of its fellows and fluttered
around her head. One after another followed until she was
surrounded by a cloud of them that obscured her vision. She felt a
strange falling sensation in her gut and opened her eyes, sitting
in the bath before the fire. Perched on the edge of the copper tub
was a perfect black steel butterfly.

The door opened and the butterfly started
into the air, circling once around her head before flitting out the
window. Glarian entered and gave her a stern look.

“
You’re still in the bath?
Time to get to bed apprentice, tomorrow is going to be a very busy
day.” He held a towel for her and she climbed out, too tired to be
shy. Her leg buckled under her again and Glarian picked her up as
though she weighed nothing and deposited her gently into her
bed.

“
Master?” He paused at the
door, “Thank you.” She was asleep before she could hear his
response.

Chapter 8

Callindra was dazzled by the array of
weaponry laid out on the table where she had expected to find
breakfast. She had slept hard and awakened feeling tired but not
nearly as exhausted as she was afraid she would be. The sounds of
metal on metal had brought her out of sleep and she had assumed
Glarian was setting out bowls of porridge.

Instead of tin spoons and wooden bowls of
oatmeal she saw a dozen or so polished steel swords. They ranged
from a straight and slender toothpick with a basket hilt to a wide
double edged blade with sturdy crosstrees.

“
Where did you get all
these?” She asked.

“
I’ve kept them for a long
time.” Glarian said, “These are all blades I tried before I found
the style that fit me. Today you will do the same. How are your
hands feeling?”

Callindra had forgotten about her injuries in
spite of the wrapping on her palms. She carefully took the linen
bandages off and was shocked to see the skin underneath was
unbroken. Wordlessly, she showed him her palms.

“
Good, I’m glad to see the
Brightstar balm works as well even after all these years. Jordah
hasn’t forsaken me yet.” He said with a smile, “Now then, why don’t
you choose a blade and try it out.”

She looked at the swords, hefted one or two
and finally picked one up that was just over a pace long, had a
straight, narrow blade with slightly curved crosstrees and a hilt
long enough for her to hold with both hands. She tested the balance
and nodded in satisfaction.

“
I like this one. It’s light
enough for me to swing but feels like it has a good backbone.” She
flicked the blade and it rang, a bright cheerful sound. “He has a
good voice too.”

Glarian nodded, “Very well, bring it outside
and let us begin our morning meditation.”

“
Where is the sheath?”
Callindra asked, “I don’t see sheaths for any of these
swords.”