Shaping Magic (4 page)

With all of the attackers dead or unconscious, Lindon looked around the room. He was surprised to see that the drunks that had been passed out on their tables were still there, not even able to react to the fight. These men were too far gone into their own troubles that they were oblivious to the world around them.

“We have to get out of here; it won't be long until more come,” Cora said urgently.

Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, they could hear a commotion out on the street. Arden was the first to react. Going around the bar, he confronted the bar maid. “Is there another was out of here?”

The frightened lady was unable to say anything coherent, when from the back of the bar the man that had been sitting in the corner watching Arden urgently said, “This way. Hurry before the town guard comes.
”

Not having any choice the trio quickly grabbed their belongings and hurriedly followed the stranger. He led them down into a cellar. Thinking that he had led them into a trap, Lindon pulled his sword and was prepared to attack the man when he pulled one of the torches downward, and the wall opened up behind him.

Lindon felt a little foolish but kept his sword out anyway, just in case. He still didn't trust the man, but he did seem to be leading them away from trouble.

Back up in the bar, one of the drunkards whom they had passed on the way out suddenly lifted his head. If anyone had been there, they would have noticed the milky whites of his eyes started to drain. He had been blind for near twenty years ever since he was in the army, and a wizard had cast a fireball in his general direction and caused his eyes to lose their sight.

Now as he stared at his hands in complete disbelief…He could see again! He had no idea how it was possible. He stood up and was stumbling toward the door when in rushed the town guards. They rushed the man and bore him to the ground, and before he could even protest he was shackled and was hauled out toward the dungeon. 

The man whom Lindon had knocked unconscious started to sit up just as the guards were leading the drunkard out of the inn. Lightly touching the spot where he had been hit, he felt a large welt that had formed from the blow. Seeing that he was still alive and relatively unharmed, he looked over at his comrades and, seeing their dead bodies, suddenly made a life-changing decision. He quickly got up—he was a little dizzy still—and made his way to the back of the building. Seeing no one was around, he jumped out one of the windows. He knew how his former employers questioned people, and he did not want to be the one being questioned. And with a feeling of freedom that he'd not felt in a very long time, disappeared out into the night.

The drunken man sat in his dark cell, barely aware of where he was. He was too enthralled with being able to see again to worry about what was going on around him. When the cell door opened, he looked up and in walked a large man in robes. At first he couldn't see under the hood of his visitor, but when the man removed its hood the drunken man was stunned into immobility. What stood before him was the most beautiful face he had ever seen, but there was something evil underlying the beauty.

Shaking with fear, the man could not move as the creature approached, when it was just an arms length away it stopped, bent down at the waist and stared in his eyes. No matter how hard he wanted to look away, he couldn't so much as move a muscle. The creature held him for what seemed like forever as his life passed before his newly awakened eyes.

As the creature stood upright, the once blind and drunken man slumped to the floor. His eyes were open, but he would never see anything again. Not long after the creature had left the cell, the rats soon came out to explore the body, and as they started to eat the flesh, they died too. Their sightless eyes were open as well, and their bodies ridged—almost like they had been dead for days, not just seconds.

Chapter 7

Unaware of what had happened back at the inn, Lindon, Arden, and Cora followed the mystery man through a maze of tunnels. Even if he tried, Lindon could not have retraced their way back to the establishment. After about an hour of traveling in the dark, the man stopped in front of a door. When they were all gathered together, the man said, “Do nothing to attract attention, just keep your head down. Do not make eye contact with anyone. We will be going to the door on the right side. Okay?”

Everyone nodded, just wanting to get back to the open air and out of this city. As the man opened the door, Lindon was hit with an overwhelming smell of sweat and the noise of battle. When they entered he understood why: It was a training room with about a dozen men and women all practicing with different weapons.

One of them caught Lindon's eye. She was one of the other races he’d heard about. She was very thin—only about four feet tall—but what caught his attention was the way she moved. She didn't so much as move as flow; she was like water being poured. She was so graceful that Lindon had a hard time pulling his eyes away from her when the others moved on. Hurrying to catch up, he glanced once more at the woman and saw her staring back at him as he went through the doorway.

It took a few seconds for Lindon's eyes to adjust to the dim light of the room they entered. With a sudden movement, Arden pulled his weapon and shouted, “You!”

Lindon didn’t know what was going on, but his sword was in hand and he was looking around for possible threats. All he could see, though, was the man who had brought them here and an old man sitting beside the fireplace with a blanket covering his legs. Not seeing the threat, he looked at Arden to try to see what had caused the outburst.

Lindon had seen Arden when he was fighting with the glowing eyes, but the look on his face now was one of pure murder. His eyes were not just glowing, they were blazing with a brightness that was truly terrifying to see, and he was looking at the old man.

“Hello Arden, it's been a long time,” the old man calmly said.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't cut you down here and now.” Arden's voice had a rage to it that promised instant violence.

The man who had brought them was standing just off to the left of the old man with his hand on his sword, but the look on his face said that he really didn't want to have to face Arden. To his credit, he did not leave the man's side, and Lindon could see that he would die to save him.

Lindon glanced at his grandmother, hoping that she would be able to calm Arden down, but he could see from the glow that she too was holding power ready to unleash. The look on her face was only slightly less deadly then Arden's.

“I suppose that is your right for what you may think of me, but if you do I will not be able to stop my men from killing you after.” The old man’s calm was an indication that he fully expected Arden to attack.

Lindon stared at the man while he was speaking and was surprised to see the same kind of glow in his eyes the same as Arden but much less bright. With a jolt, Lindon suddenly realized he knew the man. Without any thought to Arden and the tension in the room, he walked around Arden and moved up to the old man. Arden began to move to block Lindon he held up a hand.

“I know you,” Lindon said in a hushed tone. The vision came rushing into Lindon's mind.

“What do you mean you know this man? When could you possibly have met him? Did he come to the village?” Grams asked.

“No, it was when I was very small. I remember a battle; people were screaming and dying all around, and the air was heavy with smoke. You were there too, Grandmother, but you were lying unconscious. I was crying, laying beside you with warriors closing in on us. Suddenly a man came; he stood over top of us. He didn't say anything but just stood there. The attackers paused for a second but then advanced. He fought them even though he was badly outnumbered. He was wounded many times. The one to his leg was the worst.” When Lindon said that part, he looked down at the man's covered legs. Reaching down, he removed the blanket and saw the mangled leg.

“He fought to save us and when it was over, he picked you up, took my hand and led us away. We traveled for a day and half the night, but you wouldn't wake up. Finally, he took us a ways off the trail, put you down, and sat me beside you, and told me to stay quiet until you woke up. Then he left. Not long after he left, I remember hearing many men passing the spot where he put us. I wanted to call out to them to help you, but I stayed quite just like he said to.” Lindon fell to his knees from the emotion that the telling unleashed in him.

“I remember waking in the woods, but I never knew how we got there,” Grams quietly said, the glow no longer surrounding her.

Arden had lowered his sword as Lindon was telling his tale and the glow that had been blazing in his eyes had dimmed. He was no longer ready to kill but was still not quite ready to forgive.

The old man had tears running down his face as Lindon sat before him, the raw emotion clearly on his face. He looked up at the woman he had rescued with a kind of wonder and asked, “Is it possible? Can it really be him?”

Grams quickly stepped forward, taking Lindon's hand. “Yes, but let's not confuse him.” Lindon had not been listening closely to the conversation, the vision of what had happened still racing in his mind.

“I understand,” the old man conceded.

Arden was still fighting with himself, for what he had believed for so long was not what had happened. He had wasted so much of himself hating a man he thought had betrayed and abandoned his brothers. With that last thought, the fire went out of him, and he put his weapon away. Coming to stand behind Lindon, he gave the solute of the Killant to the man who had, for forty years, been Arden's teacher and mentor.

Lindon witnessed Arden and the old man interact with one another. It appeared the two knew each other previously.

“Forgive me, master, I didn't want to believe it, but after the battle I searched for you and the few survivors I found said they had seen a warrior open the gates to allow the enemy in. When I couldn't find any trace of you, I believed it had been you that betrayed us and the prince.” Arden's voice was thick with emotion, but his words were said with great relief.

“There is no need to apologize, Arden. In your place I would have thought the same way, but it was not I that betrayed the prince; it was Calum. Of course, in his mind, he didn't betray anyone; he was following orders from the king,” he said with a deep sadness.

“After I left the boy and his grandmother, I led the attackers as far as I could away before my strength started to give out, so I lost them in the mountains and found a place I could rest. From my hiding spot, I caught sight of Calum marching with the king’s men. With them were also some of the attackers. I now believe that the whole thing was a plot by the king to remove his heir from any possible chance of him taking the throne!”

“Yes, that is what I believed too—but the only thing I don't understand is, why?”  Arden was trying to understand what possible reason there would be to kill one’s own son.

“For that, we would have to ask the king, for he's the only one with that answer.” When the old man said it, he didn't sound like the frail old man he appeared to be.

“That is enough for tonight. It is time for sleep; we can talk more in the morning.” Lindon fully agreed he was completely exhausted from the day's events and the night's revelations.

  “Annan, please show them where they can sleep; somewhere close if you don't mind.”

“Yes master,” he said, and turned to Arden. “Follow me, please,” he politely said. As they were led out of the room back through the training area, Lindon noticed the room was now quiet. He had been hoping to see the girl again but the training session was over, and he assumed that she would be gone to sleep. He hoped that he would get a chance to see her in the morning and followed Annan as he led them to their beds.

  The following morning Lindon woke with a start, unsure of where he was. He was not used to sleeping in a bed, having spent the last month and a half sleeping on the ground. Dressed and ready for the day, Lindon opened his door only to find the girl that he saw yesterday standing in the hallway waiting for him.

“Hello, my name is Aina. I am to take you to the others for breakfast when you woke.” Even her voice seemed to flow like she was singing.

“Hi, I am Lindon.” It was about all he could get out. He wanted to say more, but he was tongue tied around the girl. Not only was she beautiful, but from what he saw yesterday, she was a warrior. He followed her as she led him to Arden and his grandmother.

Lindon was led back to the room of the old man. While walking through the training area, he noticed a pair of curved swords on the wall behind one of the smaller training areas. He paused, and it took a few steps for the girl to realize that Lindon was no longer following her. She turned and watched as Lindon walked over to them.

  “As she came up beside him, she said those belonged to one of the greatest swordsmen that had ever lived,” she said with reverence. “His name was Kaden Gordna and when he died, they were passed from generation to generation of warriors until they ended up here.”

  “They are beautiful,” Lindon said with awe in his voice. He had never seen weapons with such exquisite detail and he could tell just by looking at them that they were perfectly balanced. As beautiful as they were to look at, they were not meant to be hanging on a wall; these were meant for battle.

Aina got a mischievous glint in her eye and glanced at Lindon, thinking that she would tease him a little. She said, “You know that there is a way you could have them.”

Lindon tore his eyes away from the swords and turned to her with an expression of longing that almost changed her mind about carrying on with the little joke. However, her people were known for their wicked sense of humor, so despite her feelings of pity for the boy, finished with, “The only thing you have to do is challenge every warrior in the building to combat, and if you can manage to win, you can have your choice of any weapon in the building.” She considered herself clever for giving him a possible way to achieve his desire but then take it away with an impossible way to get it.

The only problem with her little joke was that she didn't know Lindon.

“How many warriors are in the building?” he calmly asked.

“Today there are fifteen.” She smirked to herself.

“And do you fight them all at once or one at a time? And do you use practice swords or real ones?”

Starting to lose interest in the joke, she answered with, “One at a time, and practice—no one wants to die. Now come on, they are waiting for us.”

With one last look at the swords, Lindon turned to follow. When he got to where his grandmother and Arden were eating, Lindon quietly sat down and proceeded to eat his breakfast in silence. Lost in thought, Lindon was unaware that most of the people had left the room. Upon looking up, he saw that there was only the old man and Arden left in the room.

Arden could tell that there was a question on Lindon's lips. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like it, but he also knew whatever it was, Lindon would ask anyway. Lindon caught Arden’s eye.

“Sir?” he tentatively said.

“What can I do for you, young man?” The old man looked up at Lindon.

“Is it true that if someone challenges everyone in this building to combat, they would then be able to take any weapons for their own that they choose?” Lindon was nervous for asking, but he had to ask and he had to carry on with his plan. He couldn't explain why, but he had to have those swords. It was like they were calling to him; that they needed to be with him.

“Yes anyone can make the challenge, but to my knowledge no one ever has. Once made, though, the challenge will take place the same day for it is only to the ones in the building at the time,” he answered, not quite sure where this was going.

Arden could see the look in Lindon's eyes. Arden did not know the reason for the question or what Lindon was going to say next, but he knew that he would not be stopped.

“Then allow me to be the first! I formally challenge everyone in the building to combat for the right to two weapons.” Lindon stood as he made the challenge.

“Are you serious, boy? These are not just kids playing with weapons here, these are battle-tested warriors!” The old man was shaking from panic; he could not believe that Arden would allow this young man, this boy who is their future—if they are to have one—risk his life for only two weapons.

“Arden, are you going to allow this?”  the old man asked in a high-pitched tone.