The Path Of Destiny (11 page)

Darius pulled the sword out of the ground and out of the
burlap he had wrapped it in. He held the shinning sword up and watched it turn
a golden white. Small veins of lightning traveled up the blade from his hand.
In reluctance he lowered it and hooked it onto his belt, then sadly smiled at
the memory of his and Kelln’s adventure that rainy afternoon. Kelln had always
made sure that some kind of adventure was in progress. He missed his friend.

With the sword at his side he ran again. He neared the walls
of the castle grounds and noticed no other men walking in. He was late and
received nervous looks from the guards. Dirt spotted his coat and pants and his
face was smeared with dirty tears. He stopped at a well, cleaned his face,
tried to wipe off some of the dirt, and strode into the courtyard where the
other soon-to-be soldiers stood waiting at their benches.

Heads turned to follow him when he walked into the meeting
area. A quick glance around showed him he was the last to arrive. His father
stood up front on the podium. Anger and rage filled his face.

“Darius San Williams. Come up front!” the senior councilor
commanded with a voice that left no question. Darius walked up front, his hand
on his sword. Mumblings went through the crowd and a few pointed at the ornate
hilt of the golden blade.

“You left your escort and disobeyed the King’s
instructions.” His father said it as a statement, not a question. Darius didn't
say a word. He just looked emotionlessly at the councilor.

Richard brought his hand up and slapped Darius so hard it
knocked him off balance and almost onto the ground. With his right hand never
leaving the sword, Darius reached out his left hand and balanced himself
against a chair. His father seemed to pay little attention to the sword at all.

“No one—not even the son of a councilor—disobeys the King.
His words are law!” He looked Darius straight in the eye, piercing his entire
soul. “No one,” he added to the entire group.

With a flick of his hand, Richard motioned for Darius to
return to the group. Darius walked down the aisle with a slow anger brewing
deep inside him. Each slow step emphasized his feelings. His cheek stung and
the slap would surely leave a bruise. He hated his father now.

The crowd gasped and Darius looked around. They were all
following him with their eyes. He looked down at his hand, which tightened
around the sword. Both glowed a brilliant white.

Darius turned back towards his father with rage filling his
eyes. His father’s arrogance, abuse of political power, and blindness to the
plight of the people brought a bad taste to his mouth. He spit to try to rid
himself of it. He continued to hold onto his sword, almost bringing it out at
any moment. It felt good to feel something again. It felt good to be consumed
by the anger. He hated his father more than he could ever remember, and he
hated the King for being the King. No one should have that much power, he
thought.
No one!

He sat down and with a deep breath let go of the sword. The
light winked out. Whispers and questions flew like the wind through the
courtyard. Richard moved to the podium and demanded silence. He gave more
instructions, and by the time he was done, Darius hoped the others had already
begun to question whether they had actually seen the brilliant light or not.

Late that night all the young men were loaded into large
covered carts. They sat packed in side by side on simple benches, their
belongings packed in the other wagons. Darius glared at the guard that tried to
take his sword. The man backed off and moved down the line, inspecting the
other men. Just after midnight they departed. The wooden wheels creaked in slow
unison as they left the dark city behind them.

Darius could feel the glare of others around him. Being the
son of a councilor and defying the King had marked him as surely as anything
else. He didn’t know how to gain their friendship. He looked back at the city.
His city. It was all he had ever known. Anikari. The center of the Realm. One
of the crossroads of the western world. He who held Anikari held the power of the
Realm and had great influence across the neighboring kingdoms of Arc and
Gildan.

They passed through the west gate on to the road leading to
the Superstition Mountains. He thought of home, of Kelln, and mostly of
Christine and his anger abated. Regret and shame seeped in. He didn’t know what
had gotten in to him. Exhausted, sleep soon overcame him.

His sleep seemed to be devoid of dreams that night and he
woke early feeling relaxed and almost new. The warmth and direction of the sun
signaled morning, sending shadows across the road ahead of them. Ahead to the
west, the Superstition Mountains loomed closer. He sighed a deep breath when he
thought again of Christine. He thought of their favorite place, The Field of
Diamonds, the small meadow at the edge of the Lake of Reflection. He told her
when they first found it that he wanted adventure and to fight for the peace of
the Realm, he just didn't know it would happen this way. He told her silently
he would return for her.

“I promise,” he said whispering to himself.

LIGHTNING

C
hristine arrived home with
her father early the next morning. Her mother told her what had happened. She
tried to be strong and keep the pain inside. Her mother handed her the note,
but before she could read it, she saw the beautiful white Cremelino horse that
Darius had left for her.

Walking up to the animal, she put out her hand and touched
the horse. In that instance a new presence entered her mind. She jumped back,
thinking she had imagined the voice.

Christine!

Christine looked around. Her mother had gone back inside to
take care of her father, who was feeling sick again. Tentatively she reached
over and ran her hand over the silky white mane of the horse. The Cremelino was
large, with its back standing almost as tall as Christine. Its light-blue eyes
looked out at her with intelligence.

Stroking the side of the horse seemed to soothe her mind.
Christine brought out the note and unfolded the paper. There were stains of
tears on its edges. She opened it, read it, and leaned against her horse. She
read it over and over again. She tried to hold herself together. She reasoned
it would only be for a short time. Silent tears rolled down her tanned face.
Caroline came over and put her arm around her eldest daughter.

“What if he never comes back? What will I do?” Christine
looked at her mother. She bit her lip to keep from bursting out into sobs.

Her mother had no answer for her.

Christine. Let’s ride.
The Cremelino encouraged her
silently, bringing itself down on its two front knees.

Without thinking, and without a saddle, she jumped on the
back of the horse. She hiked her dress up to be able to sit forward. She had
ridden bareback before and was comfortable on a normal-sized horse.

“Christine!” Her mother was embarrassed. “That’s not a way
for a lady to sit on a horse.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” She ran her hand over the horse’s
pure-white mane. The horse moved around, prancing for a few moments, and then
as if she now understood who Christine was, settled down and stood still.

“I’ll be back later,” Christine informed her mother. “I just
need to be alone.”

With loneliness and sadness filling her heart, Christine
turned towards a pasture and touched her heels to the horse’s side. The horse
took off with a grace and speed that astonished her. The Cremelino jumped over
a fence while Christine held onto her mane.

Most everyone in the farmlands grew up riding horses, but a
new feeling of exhilaration she had never recognized before came over her. She
felt as if she was one with the horse. Christine only had to touch her new
horse with a soft pat and it seemed the horse recognized how fast to go and
which direction. Even without the saddle, the ride was as smooth as sitting on
a cushion of air. She looked down and saw the ground as a blur of green and
grass.

In the back of her mind she sensed something. A connection
that wasn’t present before. Almost as if someone else listened to her thoughts.
As she neared a fence she thought to herself that she should stop and turn
back. In the blink of an eye the horse obeyed her thoughts. Christine gasped in
delight. In her mind, she asked the horse to turn to the right and then left,
testing her over and over.

The ride was exhilarating and amazing, taking her mind off
her sorrow. She thought of what to name the horse as they ran faster and
faster.

They followed a trail into the forest, emerging in a flash
only minutes later into the Field of Diamonds. She stopped and looked towards
the mountains and heard a distant rumble of thunder.

“Lightning,” Christine voiced out loud. “I will call you
Lightning.”

A feeling of joy overcame her and she laughed. Then she
dismounted, allowing Lightning to wander the field and eat.

Christine sat under the large tree and remembered when she
and Darius had named the field. The sun had broken through the clouds then,
reflecting droplets of rain on the ground. The memories brought tears to her
eyes.

“Oh, Darius,” she said out loud.

She stood up and walked to the water’s edge. She looked at
her reflection, shattered by ripples in the blue water. She herself felt
shattered. Christine reached into her pocket, pulled out the note once again,
and read it. Tears filled her eyes as she read the scribbled words repeatedly.
She could hardly see the three simple words, “
I love you
.”

Christine looked towards the mountains and said, “I love
you, too, Darius. Please come back soon.”

Lightning nuzzled up against her, and she accepted the
comfort.

Don’t worry. He’ll be back.
The horse sent the
thoughts to Christine’s mind.

How do you know?
said Christine back, still
astonished at hearing an animal speak to her in her mind.

I don’t know for sure, but I have great hope that he
will. It is his path, his destiny . . . and yours.

What is our destiny?
Christine asked. She still found
it strange to be talking with a horse, but the Cremelino seemed much more than
that. Her wisdom, insight, and knowledge were vast, but Christine felt that
much was still held in secret.

The prophecies are alive now.

What prophecies?
She prompted her new horse.

Forgotten lines of ancient magic and the power of the
throne

Will set one on a path of destiny if his heart sees the
true power . . .

Christine heard Lightning’s voice in her head, but had no
time to decipher its meaning at the moment. It had been an exhausting day.

I can’t tell you more now, my child. I have to be careful
I don’t alter what is supposed to be.

Christine climbed back on top of her Cremelino. A warmth
comforted her, not unlike that which she felt in Darius’ arms. She closed her
eyes and fixed a picture of him in her mind. She would never forget him!

The Training Camp

W
hen they first arrived in
the camp, the group of men found nothing but an empty field. It was a
breathtaking sight. A small valley of grass nestled up next to a pristine
mountain lake. The cool water sat between two jagged peaks in the western
Superstition Mountains. The late summer season and high altitude brought a
chilly temperature, compared to Anikari.

The fresh and quiet scene had a calming effect on the entire
party. Darius’s anger had subsided somewhat and he tried not to think about
Christine too much. Whenever he did he felt hollow, and he had a hard time
concentrating. He was stuck in the mountains with two hundred other young men.
Biding his time, he would go along and do what they told him, then get back
home as soon as possible.

Their first task was to build their own cabins. In fact, for
the first month they did nothing but build in preparation for the winter.

“Get up, soldier.” One of the men a few years older than
Darius motioned for him to continue working.

“Yes sir.” Darius stood slowly, without much enthusiasm.
They were only allowed a few minutes of rest. Muscles ached that he did not
even know existed, but his strength and endurance increased each day. He had
thought the older men would give him a hard time for being so young, but
instead they practically ignored him and looked at him as if he was
insignificant.

It was a hard and lonely beginning. Thoughts of home and
Christine occupied his mind and he had a hard time concentrating on the task at
hand. He felt bitter and betrayed, and didn’t care to do well. Sometimes he
cried in his dark bed at night for the comforts of home and the smile of
Christine.

Most of the young men thought of it as an honor and an
adventure. Darius looked at it as a punishment and just didn’t have the
capacity to get excited. He tried to experiment with his power when he could,
but he found little time for himself.

He eventually discovered the reason for making them do all
the hard work; not for a punishment as Darius had initially thought, but as a
builder of confidence and strength.

The cool weather came early up in the mountains, but that
did not hinder their progress. Even though it was soon approaching early autumn
and would still be warm in Anikari, it had already snowed up on the peaks of
the tall mountains. Today, however, seemed warmer, and Darius enjoyed the touch
of the sun across his face.

After six weeks they finally began some training. They were
required to practice swordsmanship, archery, knives, and body fighting, as well
as wilderness survival techniques.

A new group of teachers and trainers arrived and among them
was Sean San Ghant. Seeing him again brought back bitter memories of the archery
competition and thoughts of the argument with his father. Sean was a year older
than Darius and closer to the age of the other soldiers, and had grown taller
since Darius had seen him last. He now sported a light goatee and mustache that
appeared to be the fashion of the day, and within days of his arrival, many of
the other men copied his fashions.

Darius tried to ignore and stay away from Sean, but one day,
coming around the side of a cabin, he ran right into him.

A quick look of anger covered over in moments by his usual
smirk, Sean spoke to Darius. “Let's walk a little.”

Darius, suspicious of his motives, went with him anyway. He
decided he shouldn't be so angry for something that had happened in the past.
Maybe they had both grown up a little since then.

“I know we have had our differences in the past.” Sean began
as if thinking carefully what he would say. “I have watched you and the other
men here practicing the last few days and I can see that you aren't trying very
hard, Darius.”

Darius tried to protest but Seam put his hand up. “Let me
finish, Darius. I know you don't like me. Just listen. I know you are younger
than these other men, but even I have to admit you have a lot of potential.
Remember, I saw the way you handle a bow.” He smiled a little, and Darius
relaxed somewhat. “You are the best archer here. You also have great potential
with your sword, especially the one you have. Where did you get it anyways?”

Darius shrugged, signaling that he didn’t want to tell Sean
anything.

Sean continued. “You are quick and strong. But even with all
of these characteristics perfected, many would not be the leader that you could
be. You have been given everything that comes with privilege as a noble.”

“I just don't like it here,” said Darius.

“That's fair to say. I don't really like it here either, and
I have only been here a few days. I would rather be back home in my warm house
or in the Fair Weather Inn drinking ale and watching the girls, but we don't
always have a choice in these matters. Sometimes there is something that guides
our life that is bigger than we are. Sometimes we are being led to a destiny.
We must make the best of it. This is where we have been sent, although for
different reasons.”

“What is your reason?” Darius was suspicious of anything that
Sean said.

“I came to help teach various duties for a few months. I
have not been called into the Elite.” Sean paused, a quick glimpse of
frustration and envy crossing his face. It was as if he wanted to be in the
elite group also. “I am in another type of training unit. Part of our duties is
to rotate into here and then to report back to . . .” He stopped as if he had
gone too far.

“Report to who?” prodded Darius.

“To . . . your father,” he said, looking Darius in the eye.

“My father? He’s checking up on me!” Darius raised his
voice.

“He is . . . concerned . . . about you, Darius.” Sean said
his words in a slow, rehearsed cadence.

“Are those your words or his?”

“That is what he implied. He wants to know how you are
doing.”

“Tell him I am doing fine!” snapped Darius.

“Are you?”

Darius grabbed Sean’s arm and he felt Sean tense. Power
flared up inside him and he glared at Sean in the eye. “I am doing fine, I
said.” He turned and started to walk away.

“Darius, what do you want?”

Darius turned around.

Sean continued. “You stated that you don’t like it here, you
don’t want your father checking up on you, you obviously don’t want to follow
in his footsteps as a councilor, but you are a man now, Darius. You can’t
define everything by what you
don’t
want.”

“And what would you know about what IIIIIIIII want?” Darius
still stood a few feet away. His face reddened and his right hand gripped the
handle of his sword. He controlled the power as to not let it glow. It was
difficult to hold back. “What do you want Sean?”

Sean walked closer to Darius. “That’s easy. I know exactly
what I want. I always have. It’s kind of funny, really. I want everything that
you don’t want. I want to be a noble. I want to be in charge. I want attention.
I want to have power to rule over others.”

Darius scowled, trying to fathom why anyone could be
obsessed with such power.

“I really don’t care what you want, Darius. But don’t get in
the way of what I want. But for your own good you might want to figure it out.
You can’t go through life whining about what you don’t like. Grow up and be
your own man!”

Anger welled up inside Darius. Power coursed through his
veins. With a well-placed shove he pushed Sean a dozen feet away, then with one
jump he stood over him. Sean looked up and wiped dirt off his face. “Good.
Good. Now I see you want something.”

“Yes. I want to have nothing to do with you, Sean San Ghant.
Ever again. Stay away from me.”

Sean slowly stood up, still smiling. “Well, that’s a start.”
Sarcasm dripped from his smug smile.

Once again Darius turned to walk away.

“Darius,” Sean added as he walked away. “You must get your
anger under control. I must say I don’t like this side of you.”

Darius walked away, fuming with hateful feelings. His power
filled him with anger towards Sean, his father, and the King. They had no right
to choose his destiny and what he would do. Sean talked of a greater destiny,
of something guiding their lives. The only thing he noticed guiding and trying
to influence his life was his father, King Edward, and some hidden agenda that
they didn’t want to talk to him about.

Sean was right in one thing though Darius hated to admit it
to himself. Darius needed to decide what he wanted. He needed a purpose back in
his life. He thought back to conversations with Christine and Kelln. What had
he told them he wanted? He wanted to make things better, to protect the Realm,
to unite the people together—all people—in peace. He had always just thought
that meant fighting and protecting from outside influences and from other kingdoms.
Now he knew what his purpose was. It was protecting the people from inside
influences, from those with too much power.

He would not let others control his destiny any longer. He
would step up and be his own man, and he was not going to get that by hanging
around in the background and going through the motions. He would have to be the
best. No one would push him around any longer. He would have control over his
life.

That next morning Darius woke up earlier than anyone else
and started exercising on his own. Cray, the training camp commander, came by
and watched Darius go through his morning drills. The man was darker-skinned
than anyone else in camp. His gray hair was cut short across his head. He stood
shorter than Darius but much more solid. Without saying a word, he smiled and
walked away.

From that day on he trained and fought with one thing in
mind. To protect the Realm. He alarmed many of the other men with his newfound
intensity. He did not hang out with the others, laughing, drinking, and talking
in the evenings about the server girls. He closed himself off to anyone and
anything but his duties and practices. He woke up before dawn and practiced
until after sunset. His strength, abilities, and physical powers grew, and with
that, a greater understanding and control over his magical abilities.