Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) (12 page)

Her mouthed dropped at his verbose explanation of such a felonious theme.
Magic does not exist. Sorcerers do not exist.
He rambled on as Arianna tried to block out his words.

“Although King Devlindor would have you believe there was never a trace of enchantment in this world, he can’t deceive us all,” said Talis. “He knows himself this is an impossible endeavor. Without magic, the world would cease to exist, and there are still people who know this truth.” He sighed. “Regrettably though, he has wiped out a large portion of the magical entities that used to reside on this land and has hidden these atrocities under centuries of lies. The balance of the world is no longer equal. That’s why we suffer. As his tyrannical grip tightens, the magical properties of the Olleb weaken, possibly forever.” Disgusted by his own story, his lips tightened in a hard line.

Talis’ mind formed a picture that Arianna could not herself imagine. She had never known a better world. Yes, she hated the King, but she accepted it. The people who trained and slaughtered them in her district had all once been slaves just the same.
This is life
. For centuries, people lived this way, and anything before this time seemed irrelevant now.

At that moment the teapot screamed from the corner as steam billowed from the opening. Talis left Arianna on the floor to contemplate his history lesson. Moments later he returned with two hot cups of tea. She let hers steep and cool before attempting to taste the flowered water. It refreshed her dry tongue, and her body welcomed the nourishment after such a catastrophic day. After a few moments of silence, the conversation picked up again.

“This magic you speak of… you think it’s why I’m here now, don’t you?” asked Arianna. Half of her stubborn-self thought it best to stick to the dull reality she’d always known. The other half wished with all her heart that his words spoke a truth about a world once filled with color. She closed her eyes.

“Yes and no,” replied Talis. “You’re here because I sent the magic to you, but
you
had to make the choice to accept it. Do you understand?”

“I suppose,” she said, unsure as she stirred her tea.

“Magic is everywhere. This, I tell you, is true. Some, like me, can summon it more naturally than others, just as some are affected by it more easily. I sense that you’re strongly connected to this enchanted side of nature.”

“Why?” she asked, taken aback by his assumption. Everything in her mind and body rejected the idea that something, regardless of what it was, could be connected to her without her knowing. Yet, she still wanted to believe in something more. Her mind fumed, tugging to both sides.

“When Solomon brought me to your bedside, I looked upon a corpse, Arianna. You were dead. The spell that I conjured to heal you failed in front of my eyes. You were gone,” said Talis.

Her heartbeat quickened at his recollection of what happened after the battle. Finally, he provided the answers she searched for.

He continued, “Then, minutes later, you were glowing like a star! It was as if the spell I had called for sank into your soul and waited there for you grasp it. And so you did!”

His infectious excitement made Arianna smile, but the story was ridiculous. How could this be true?

“The light blessed your body and healed you inside and out.”

Arianna let her fingers graze her stomach where she remembered Grinda stabbing her with the sword. Although faint, she could feel the scar there.

“You must be flowing with the magical blood of your ancestors,” he said. “I would guess you’re a descendent of someone very powerful for the spell to work so miraculously. Like I said before, Solomon was right to put his faith in you.” He took another sip of his tea.

She raised a curious eyebrow at this last statement and decided to veer the topic off track once more. “Tell me, Master Churry, what faith has Solomon stored in me? You’ve mentioned this several times.”

Talis looked up from his tea and stared into space for a moment. Arianna wondered what he saw in his mind’s eye as a wounded expression flickered across his face.

“Another day, perhaps,” he said in a masked tone. “You’ve had enough wonderment for one night, I take it.” The expression wiped from his face.

Before Arianna could form the next question on her lips, the door to the Well Room swung open. Arianna’s body clenched at the sudden intrusion. It took an interruption for her to remember that this discussion committed an act of treason. They had violated so many rules.

She relaxed.
It’s only Solomon.
He had just returned from escorting Cyn back to her home.

“Please sit,” said Talis, gesturing to a chair as Solomon strode across the room.

He nodded, removed his cloak and sat down. “So, what’ve we learned?” he asked, turning to Arianna. A wary expression settled on his face as he crossed his legs.

“Too much,” she said, shaking her head. “Solomon, how can any of this be true? It’s all very overwhelming. Have you heard his explanation? Do
you
believe him?” She placed her head in her lap as her hands tried to massage at the headache her mind suffered from.

She glanced up, waiting for an answer. She wished that someone would tell her exactly what to believe. In the end, she knew she would have to make the decision on her own, but she wanted Solomon’s trusted insight.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice solemn. “I’m sorry. You must be shocked at all of the information, but don’t bid it unwelcome. Just give it time to settle.

Solomon turned to Talis who finished his last drops of tea.

“We need to get you back to your district before anyone misses you,” he said. “I can never thank you enough for your help.”

“Consider my debts paid,” said Talis with a low bow to Solomon. He flashed him a smile.

Solomon returned a sincere nod and Arianna wondered what kind of relationship these two once shared.

“Take care of her, Solomon. She may have swayed my stance on rekindling my old ways.” He chuckled and his belly shook beneath his cloak.

Solomon joined in on the laughter, gently embracing Talis in a warm hug.

“It only takes a little faith,” said Solomon, flashing a huge grin Arianna’s way.

The two looked like long lost brothers.

“Be safe and mind that storm,” said Solomon.

Arianna glanced towards the small window on the far wall. Wind pounded large snowflakes against the glass, demanding entrance. She shivered, looking away.

“Farewell, Arianna of Warrior’s District. I enjoyed breaking the law with you this night. Until we meet again.” Talis winked.

“Goodbye,” she said as he walked to the door. “Oh, and Master Churry, I’ve decided that I
do
have you to thank for my life… so thank you.”

He smiled. “Call me Talis,” he said with a bow. The door shut behind him, and she frowned. She realized all the information he gave her only led to a thousand more questions.
Sorcerers. Magic. Healing lights?
She struggled to understand Talis’ words. None of it had any place in her world.

She felt a welcome hand on her shoulder, Solomon there by her side. “You put up a good fight today,” he said.

She scoffed at his lame attempt at consoling her about her lost battle with Grinda.

“I meant in here.” He pointed at her head, and they both couldn’t help but smile. With that, she felt her body and mind crumble like shattering glass.

She threw her arms around her master and sobbed into his shoulder, “I should’ve never challenged her. I’m so confused. What’s all this talk about magic? Please, I need some clarity.” Tears warmed her cheeks.

He wrapped his giant arms around her. This is the Solomon she yearned for now, the friend with comforting wisdom.

“In time, Arianna,” he said, patting her back. “For now, you need rest. We must figure out what to do about introducing you back to the world. I’m sure everyone assumes you dead. We couldn’t possibly introduce you now. You haven’t a scratch on you!” he said, holding her at arm’s length, scanning her up and down with a queer smile on his face.

She pulled away from his hold and stared into his dark eyes. ‘Oh’ was all she could manage on her lips.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it all. I have an idea,” he said, tapping his long finger to his temple with a grin. “The only thing you do well to remember at all times is never to mention Talis and obviously all you’ve learned today.”

“Not even to Li—”

Solomon’s expression turned cold. “Not to anyone,” he said. “Understood?”

Arianna nodded. Her head felt heavy as she began to feel the weight of all the stress this long day delivered.

“Ara, this really is a matter of life or death. Tell me you understand. It doesn’t matter if you choose to believe him or not, but no one is to ever hear of these occurrences,” he said in a voice only strict Master Bell used, not Solomon her friend.

“Yes, I understand, Master,” she said.

“Good. Now I must be off. I’ll prepare your re-entrance to… life, shall we say?” He caressed his goatee, lost in thought.

“What do I do?”

“Just rest here. You’ve been through a traumatic experience. Relax your mind and your body, and I’ll be back in the morning with provisions and more information. I promise,” he said.

Arianna nodded, her face pulling into a reluctant smile. She wanted him to stay.

“By the way, I’m glad you came back.” He gave a warm smile, and she returned it best she could.

After he left, she felt more alone than ever. Only her thoughts kept her company, and they stabbed at her brain. Relaxing her head on the fresh sheets and pillow Solomon provided, her eyelids drooped and reality fogged.

She didn’t even realize when her body drifted into a deep sleep. You know, the kind of sleep where you think you’re still awake even as you fall through your dreams. If only she had enjoyed the luxury of those… This night was filled with nothing but terrors.

The walls of the Blancoren Mountains stand firmly in place around the Jar, around me. Wind stirs the gray snow in swirls about my head, leaving my hair damp and loose in ringlets over my shoulders. The white garment on my skin is thin, and my shoes are absent. I wish I had my swords.

A frosted mirror faces me, affixed to the mountainside. I study myself. Pale chestnut eyes regard me with harsh satisfaction. Yes, these are my eyes, but something isn’t right. They begin to shine a radiant blue-silver.

The reflection in the mirror doesn’t seem like me. She’s so beautiful… a beauty I could never achieve. I move back, and the figure copies my footsteps.

My heart begins to drum inside my chest as I study her, throbbing to the beat of her heart. Could that really be me?

I feel drawn to her, my reflection. I want to run, but I can’t. I step forward in the snow, and I raise my hand to touch the frosted glass as she does the same.

 I feel the cold glass under my palm and begin to panic. It’s frozen to the mirror as I try to yank away. No use. The girl who is me throws her head back in laughter, her voice a honeyed sound that sends warning signals to the pit of my stomach. I scream as the girl shifts. She’s no longer my reflection.

As she shifts, new, dark eyes bore into mine, but nothing else is visible as silver smoke envelops the mirror. Something changes, and I am no longer stuck. No, this is much worse.

I feel myself being pulled forward, my body sucked into the glass, into the walls of Blancoren. I cry for help, but my voice is lost to the howling wind as the murky eyes keep close watch.

 Now, I lay motionless in the soft snow, blood staining the clean cloth on my skin. It spills from many wounds, coloring the virgin snow a deep red. I feel no pain besides the absence of my steel. I try to call for help, but my voice is missing. I lie there, still as stone.

The only thing I see is Blancoren, the last thing I wish to look upon before I die. I try to shut my eyes, to no avail. They’re frozen in place like the rest of me.

Something moves in the distance. I am not alone.

A figure in long, black robes steps forth from the shadows. Ruthless, black eyes drink up my pain… taunting me. They’re the same black eyes from the mirror. My sword!

The jeweled hilt sparkles in one mangled hand, my blood-stained dagger in the other. The intruder on my death lets the dagger drop beside me, the snow wiping the fresh blood clean off the metal. With the tip of my sword, he pushes the damp hair from my face and then drives the steel through my chest with exquisite force. I can feel now.

I stare into the sinister face of my murderer before I’m ripped from my body. I hear his cackling laughter drifting further away, and the light dims as if lit only by faint candles in the sapphire sky.

Now I’m gazing into my own lifeless eyes as their strange, glowing light dims. My body is tattered and gored, still as a statue in the snow. My gleaming sword protrudes from pallid flesh, lathered with fresh blood. I smell a sweet scent and look towards the sky. Large snowflakes drift down towards my body. As they drift nearer, I realize this isn’t snow at all. Such a sweet smell… the smell of roses.