The Ways of Mages: Starfire (25 page)

A thoughtful look crossed Kadrea
n’
s face
.“
From one of my travels that ran near them, I would say tha
t…
they are not natural. There is a feeling o
f…
of unres
t
…”

“
I’
d say they were haunted
.”
Zeeve said from his perch between Tiv
i’
s ears
.“
It makes things so much easier to describe
.
”

“
You do like the way of expediency, do
n’
t you
?”
Liam observed.

Zeeve shrugged
.“
I do
n’
t see a problem with it
.
”

“
And I do
n’
t want to spread superstitions
.”
Kadrean remarked.

“
They are already spread
.”
Zeeve pointed out
.“
And there is no real way to describe those mountains. Some people would swear by all their loved ones that they have seen the spirits of the dead walking through those passes. Even if all the stories were superstition, they keep people out of those mountains. Which is good, considering the crazy timing of its storms
.
”

“
Perhaps
.”
Kadrean consented.

“
So what about Razya
n’
s Keep
?”
Terana asked.

Kadrean glanced at Terana
.“
Curious today, are we
?
”

Terana shrugged
.“
Yeah. There is stuff that you two take for granted, but Liam and I do
n’
t have a clue about
.
”

Kadrean smiled
.“
True. The Keep is the oldest and only school for wizardry now. There used to be others, but they have shut down over the year
s
…
”
Kadrean went on to describe the different disciplines studied, how achievement was marked, and what wizards did once they graduated. Throughout the monolog, Terana wondered where she would fit in that new world. Hopefully she would fit into the discipline of healin
g…
something useful, but does
n’
t attract a ton of attention.

“The mournful horn cries over the distance,/ its notes bittersweet./ ‘Sleep in peace’ it weeps/ ‘oh Brave One…’” Excerpt from the Songs of the Brave by Nirami Kaizir

             
Pershara- near the City of Pershara

              The twilight of predawn hung over the world. The Fires of the Damned had been snuffed out. The remnants of the Dark Sons eradicated from the living earth. All that remained to be done was to care for the dead. It was a task Duncan found to be one of the most painful. He had always understood that death was an eager puppy following those who carried the sword, the fated handmaiden of those who dared to protect others and stand against evil. But even so, Duncan’s heart ached as he walked through the ruined camp. He prayed for the fallen. Prayed that God would keep their souls safe in the light. Other than T’Garen, all the fallen had been savaged.

             
Tears soaked Duncan’s brown eyes. There was nothing more he could do for them other than grant them last rites. He wished that he could give them all a proper send off, but too many were in small, unrecognizable pieces. Not to be deterred from honoring their sacrifice, Duncan began picking up the crosses of the fallen knights. They were untouched and pulsed with a soft light. Some of the other soldier’s dog tags were wrapped about the crosses, also giving off a soft luminance. It was a miracle that he even found the dog tags, even more so that they were tied about the crosses wanting to be found. Duncan and the others who were combing the field for the tokens of remembrance soon returned to the sight of the last stand for it was the clearest.

             
Perela and Bendon had been busy building a pyre for T’Garen. Once it was complete, Toliver and Trevor picked up the fallen general and placed him gently on the pyre. Robert came out of the woods, his hands full of greenery. Henderson followed him, limping slightly. Robert nodded at Bendon and Perela before standing before Duncan.

“What do you have there?” Duncan asked, his voice colored with sorrow and his own arms laden with glowing crosses and dog-tags.

Robert nodded his head at the crosses in Duncan’s arms. “The pyre is for all those who gave their lives for us, but T’Garen cannot bear them all. And those crosses are for their loved ones. Henderson and I gathered another means to honor them.”

Duncan gazed at the greenery in Robert’s arms. He could see the scarlet red of poppies , the golden hue of marigold, the white of daisies and heather. The scent of rosemary rose from the collection of greenery. In Henderson’s arms were yellow, blue, and pink flower sprigs.  Duncan recognized only the pink flowers as holi moli, its unique scent of honey and mint blended harmoniously with the rosemary.  Duncan smiled at the two men. “Thank you.” He said, his gaze drawn back to the scarlet poppies.

Perela looked at Bendon who pulled from his red cloak a white lily and an olive sprig. The wizard handed Perela the lily. She approached the pyre and placed the lily in T’Garen’s folded hands. She then, with a reverence that brought tears to the eyes of those watching, removed T’Garen’s tags. Perela stepped back with her head down. She whispered a word and the pyre began to burn.

Duncan stepped forward. “You all gave your lives for us and I thank you.” He said, speaking to those who had fallen. “ It has been an honor serving with you. I look forward to the day I see you in heaven and I pray that our actions from this day hence honor your sacrifice and God.” Duncan bowed his head to pray. “Dear Father in heaven, I life up all these men who gave their lives in your service against the evil ones. I thank You for the chance I had to know them. I pray that their light will shine in your courts above. I pray also for their families still here. Comfort them, Lord and if I can be any assistance, let me know. Be with us who have survived and keep us in your hand, Lord. Today had been an evil day and the war is not yet over. Be with us and guide us, Lord, and grant us your courage to do what must be done to further your plans. This I pray amen.”  Duncan stepped back.

Robert and Henderson passed out flowers and sprigs. One by one, the survivors and the rescuing party recited a name and tossed in a flower or leaf. The white lily in T’Garen’s hand represented the purity of the men’s sacrifice. Golden marigold stood for the pain and grief that came with losing so many friends. The yellow flowers of agrimony represented the thankfulness of knowing those who had sacrificed so much. Daisies honored the loyalty of the men to those they loved and their faith. The evergreen herb of rosemary added its scent to symbolize how those still living would remember their fallen brothers. Sprigs of white heather joined, honoring the protectiveness of the men and pleading for their souls’ protection in God’s hands. The pink flowers of holi moli added their minty honey scent. They honored the men’s strength of character, their honor, and conviction.  Duncan tossed in a sprig of borage. Its blue, star shaped flowers honoring the fallen warriors’ courage. As it caught fire, Duncan could only remember T’Garen jumping in the way of the blade meant for Duncan. A tear slid down Duncan’s cheek. 

The final names were said. Each survivor received a scarlet poppy flower and a silver-green olive leaf. Each wrapped the poppy in the olive leaf and threw it into the fire. The poppy wished the men eternal sleep and the olive peace in their new life in heaven.  With this last honorific to the fallen, the fire suddenly swelled in size and a wind stirred in a circle about its flames. The fire changed from normal fire hues to a blue-white shade. The heat that normally came with such a color did not touch those who stood nearby. Duncan, Bendon, Perela and the others backed away in puzzlement. The flames formed a bulb-shape that resembled a flower bud. Then the winds shot up and the fire flower opened. A pure, blue-white light column rose into the heavens from what had once been the pyre. All that was left was the ash.  The crosses and dog tags flared a bright blue, similar in color to the borage flowers.

Gazing at the light, Duncan felt a sense of peace around him. A peace that was not a shallow earthly peace, but one of heaven that could hold a soul in the darkest of times. “Thank you, God.” He whispered. He knew that God was honoring the fallen in his own way. He let the light of their courage push away the darkness of the world. Duncan and the others with him felt that this light would be a rallying point in the battles to come. It gave them strength and a determination to continue what they had started and drive the darkness away.

***

He had many names…Sometimes too many, but that was of little concern. After all, it was a price gladly paid, for there was a kind of freedom one attained from having so many identities. If one got sick of one, you could always disappear and become someone new. His disappearances always sparked interesting stories as those he left behind tried to explain the mystery. The stories were almost always quite fantastic like he fell through a magical portal. Another portrayed him as a fairy prince who decided that it was time to return home. The girls of that particular village had been upset that he hadn’t chosen one of them to be his bride. Of course they never told their parents that they dreamed of being a fairy queen.

Sometimes the stories were not quite so fantastic. There was one tale that said he had been trapped in his house while it was ablaze and he died. Like that could happen… A grim smile stretched his lips at a memory. A village had tried once, to kill him by fire that is, because they believed the words of the Lady of Apathy, Acedia. He can now say that he had been burned at the stake. Fun that. They never did find any bones in the ashes. In that particular case, he never had to worry about tying up loose ends. A good thing because then he could cut to his favorite part.  He enjoyed picking out the names. The only name he hadn’t chosen for himself was his first one. He could be anyone he wanted to be. His smile became a true one.

He looked out over the battlements of Pershara City. His smile faded. There was one thing, though, that would never ever change…  He could never escape his duty. 

In the distance the survivors of the Fires of the Damned had built a lovely high fire. He hadn’t been sure that any would have survived the Dark’s vicious plan, but he was very glad that they had. Suddenly, from the flames a blue-white light flared in a high column that remained long after the pyre had been reduced to ash. He stared at it in awed fascination for a time before his hands blindly brought out his journal.

His fingers unwound the tie holding the book closed. He flipped to a clean page and brought out his pen that held a cartridge of ink, a Grinlean innovation that few in the country of Pershara knew about. The man on the wall began to write:

The pyre of General Stefan T’Garen, husband of Anna and a defender of the Light, bloomed with a blue-white light that rose into the heavens. The glory of God had been shown through the man’s act of courage and faith in his King of Kings. Thus T’Garen’s light will shine forevermore. The crosses and dog tags of his fellow heroes will always hold their light, for all were courageous to stand before the very gates of hell to give another a chance at life. I have this feeling that whenever one approaches the shaft of light with one of the crosses, the light will brighten. But it will flare with Heaven’s light should one who bears a cross have a courageous heart set on making the world a brighter place.

From this moment on, the light above T’Garen’s pyre shall be known as T’Garen’s Glory. Perhaps the city would accept the name as well, since it is just outside its gate. Borage, the starflower of courage, will blanket the ground in ever blooming stars. May haps it will become the symbol for the city or at least those who will follow in T’Garen’s footsteps.

Why do I think this? How can I since it has not yet come to pass? That is indeed a valid question. Let us say it was a dream I had last night and a gut feeling I have from watching the light first appear from the battlements of Pershara City’s wall.

He closed the book and retied it. It was only half way finished. It was a work he named till a better idea came to mind “The Lost Tales of Brisbin.”  By Brisbin himself. He quirked a smile. Wouldn’t it just throw the Grinlean scholars for a loop to see a recent publication from the Scholar Brisbin? After all, Brisbin was supposed to be three centuries in the grave. Reason why they had named the royal harbor after him. Oh, it would be hilarious to see them. At first they would try to say that the journal had been made by some copycat trying to get a stir. Of course, in that scenario they would be half right. He wasn’t a copycat, though. They would then authenticate his work, comparing it to older works. The handwriting would indeed match and then his mystique would grow. Oh, the expressions on the university scholars when they found this recent writing would be hilarious. It would be his treat after all of this was over.

***

Ryan met Duncan and the others at the door into the city. He bid them to follow. Soon they came to Tommy’s office. The men could not all fit in the room, large though it was. So Ryan led them to a room nearby. A healer, who had served faithfully under Tommy for years, saw to the men’s wounds. Meanwhile, Kairevasigh was being introduced to Duncan and Perela. The girl looked better than she had earlier. Kindra hugged both Duncan and Perela, joyful that they were alright. Tep approached Toliver who smiled at him “Can’t get rid of me that quickly.” Toliver said patting the youth on the shoulder.

Kindra saw Ryan slip back into the room. He caught her eye and inclined his head in greeting. She blinked. Something about his golden eyes seemed familiar. Before she could speak Ryan called for everyone’s attention. “Welcome all, to Pershara City. And welcome back, Director.” He said with a grin at Tommy T.

“That’s right.” Duncan said. “Tommy is the King of Thieves.”

Bendon, Kindra, and all the rest, except for Ryan, Duncan, Perela, and Trevor, stared in surprise at Tommy.

Tommy rolled his eyes. “I prefer the title of Director. Thank you.”

“Yes, yes.” Ryan said helpfully, leaning against the wall. “The ‘king’ title is far too flashy. ’Director’ is much more mysterious.”

“Hush lad.” Tommy told the younger thief. “The title always seemed wrong to me. I did not wish to be put in the same category as King Raymond. I’ve been endeavoring to run the Guild as fairly as I can and try to install an honor code into my people.” Tommy said as an explanation.

“He is a
noble
Director.” Ryan said with a wry smile. Tommy raised an eyebrow at him. Ryan bowed with a grin, but did not elaborate. “So you know,” Ryan informed Tommy changing the topic, “I sent for the general and the ambassador. They should be here soon.”

Tommy nodded. “Thank you, Ryan.” Ryan inclined his head.

“Ryan, have I met you before?” Kindra asked while they waited for the others.

Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. Why?”

Kindra shook her head. “I’m not sure, but I could have sworn we met thirty years ago at the Grinlean Royal University.”