Chosen, p.12
Chosen, page 12
“Do you two feel up to some practice as well?” Izaiah asked.
“Sure,” Phenyo said. “I could use the exercise, since I haven’t gotten to handle a sword in a couple of weeks.”
Ra met her eyes, the two hazel pools holding a challenging smile. “Okay then.”
“To the training yard.” Izaiah led them off.
*
Zuri silently followed Ezra. He had questions but was compelled to hold them back. Being in Ezra’s presence wasn’t the same as being in Itvin’s or Izaiah’s. Of all the people Zuri had met since everything began, aside from Ra and Phenyo, he felt most acquainted with Itvin, then Izaiah. He could talk to them and not feel as if he were being a nuisance.
Ezra didn’t talk much, as Zuri observed. Perhaps the wizard would feel bothered if the boy buried him with inquiries. At least that’s how Zuri felt. So, he simply followed.
They went down a path on the south side of the palace grounds. It ran along the stream for several yards, then curved away into a cluster of woods. The trees were tall, their branches thick with foliage. Birds chattered and chirped above. Zuri tried to move as carefully as Ezra, who made not a sound over the twigs and fallen leaves.
The boy looked over his shoulder to the edge of the woods and the stream left behind. He cleared his throat. “Ezra…sir?”
“Just Ezra will do,” he replied without turning to Zuri, his voice smooth and edgeless.
“Ezra, where are we going?”
“It’s not far, just up ahead. Are you concerned?”
Zuri believed he heard humor in the wizard’s resonant voice. He observed Ezra’s back, his hair swaying with his movements. “No. Just curious is all.”
“Yes, the boy with all the questions.” Ezra chuckled. “Ask what you wish, and I will do my best to provide answers.”
“Okay,” Zuri moved up beside Ezra. “Since I’m a wizard of this Kragian Order like you, are our powers the same?”
“Yes and no. Every wizard has similar powers to the next. They also possess a power all their own.” Ezra’s jet-black eyes shifted from the path before them down to Zuri. “Because of your father, young master, your power is possibly more potent than mine or any other wizard’s. You simply have to learn to channel and tune it, control it. And that’s what I’m going to teach you.”
They continued another fifty feet on the path. The trees broke, giving entrance to a clearing strewn with toppled stone pillars and structures. Eroded statues of various figures lined the place, most of them broken through the years. Tall grass sprouted in clusters, and vines wound all about the ancient architecture. In the center of the clearing rose a most peculiar and amazing structure—two pyramids stacked tip to tip. It looked like a large, angular hourglass. Like most things in Kambia, Zuri had never seen anything like it.
Ezra moved ahead and Zuri followed.
“What’s this place?”
“It is a place of history, of ancestry and mystique. Thousands of years ago, it was used for prayers. It was also visited by those who harnessed power and wished to focus it. I thought we might begin your practices here.” Ezra watched him closely. “You feel it, don’t you? The magnetism of these ruins which draws you and the power you hold?”
Zuri nodded. He did feel it. It was as if he’d been there before.
With a quick flip of his arms, Ezra removed his long white coat with its gold trim and etchings. Beneath it he wore a fine shirt, vest, leg-hugging pants, and boots, all white. A scepter hung on his belt. He tossed the coat aside without looking, and it draped perfectly over a fallen statue.
“Are you going to teach me to use one of those?” Zuri grinned, eyeing the scepter.
“Not just yet. Besides, you have to earn your scepter, which you will soon enough. We’ll start off simple.” His dark gaze landed on a large heap of rubble that had undoubtedly been part of a structure ages ago. “I want you to concentrate on that pile. Move one brick there.”
He pointed to the circular open area near them.
Well, it seemed easy enough. Zuri had been practicing the telekinesis part of his power in his room each day since arriving in Kambia. He took a breath and fixed his attention on the rubble pile. He did what he always did when trying to channel his power. He concentrated on the Joneses and the love he had for them. The boy found that his emotions were the key to control. Any one of them could trigger his power, but he preferred that it be a wholesome emotion rather than anger or rage, which is why he tried to never focus on Brett or other bullies he’d come across. Anger made his power flare into something he could barely control, like it had that day back at the high school. The floors trembled and every locker in the corridor swung open. Zuri knew exactly how he felt in that moment, and he was determined to never feel that way again. The rage that boiled through him was the darkness of his father. For the rest of his days, he knew he’d work to keep it suppressed.
The Joneses, their love, gave him strength.
One brick rocked in place, then lifted from the heap and floated through the air, guided by Zuri. It lowered in the open where Ezra instructed.
“Excellent. Now, about control.” Ezra lifted a hand and aimed it at the heap. His splayed fingers twitched, then he raised his hand slowly. Three bricks rose from the heap and hovered in the air. Ezra twirled a finger, and the bricks also twirled, spinning. “Your mind is only part of it, Zuri. Your hands can work to channel your power, like conduits channeling energy.”
Ezra stopped spinning his finger and snatched his hand into a tight fist. The bricks collapsed into dust, which sifted away in a breeze.
“Whoa.” Zuri blinked up at Ezra.
The Kragian wizard smiled at him. “I’m going to meditate a bit. Practice maneuvering the bricks some more. Try using your hands to guide your power.”
The boy nodded. “Okay.”
Ezra spun and headed further into the ruins, making his way to the double pyramid structure in the center. He snatched up his coat when he passed it and pulled it on in a single tug.
Zuri stared after him. He took a breath and nodded.
“Okay, use my hands. No problem. Piece of cake.” He centered on the heap of rubble again and flexed his little fingers.
*
Izaiah took Phenyo and Ra to an unoccupied section of the training yard, a large circle of compacted dark dirt used for sparring. Not far from it were a few racks of weapons. Some of them were made of wood and some of metal, allowing various levels of training and practice. Shields and armor were also available. A target practicing field offered challenge to those who wished to hone their archery skills.
The wizard observed both teens.
“Stretch yourselves and prepare to show me what you have.”
Ra-siamun smiled and lifted a brow. “You’re not going to join us?”
Izaiah chuckled. “No, not this time. Neither of you is prepared to face me.”
“You never know if you don’t give us a chance,” said the prince.
“You’re right, so stretch yourself and let me see your combat skills, boy.” Izaiah grinned.
Phenyo was already limbering herself, stretching side to side, rolling her shoulders. She smirked at Ra. “Or could it be that you’d rather face him than me because I intimidate you.” Her smile eased on slowly.
“You can believe that if it makes you feel better.” He knew that she teased him, so he smiled. The prince stretched as well. When he was satisfied a few moments later, he strode to the weapon racks.
“Use wooden swords to start,” Izaiah said.
Ra removed his jacket and set it to a bench. Phenyo did the same. They both chose their swords and moved into the earthen ring. They circled one another at first, their wooden swords pointed at the ground. It was early, yet there were some guards conducting their own practice. Most of them stopped what they were doing to watch Ra and Phenyo.
Izaiah stood outside the ring’s perimeter, arms folded over his chest, finely trimmed mustache and goatee framing his smiling mouth. “Begin.”
At that moment, Phenyo adopted a battle stance and brought her sword up. Ra did the same. They continued to circle. Izaiah nodded, noting their footwork. It was obvious the young woman had better training.
Ra-siamun struck first. His sword lashed up and out. Phenyo parried. Wood clattered against wood. Phenyo went low, slashing her sword at Ra’s legs. He jumped to dodge it, and instantly had to dodge another blow from her. He backed up until he was inches from the edge of the ring.
“Oh, yes. I forgot to mention that if either of you leaves the circle, you automatically lose,” said Izaiah. His smile deepened.
“I kind of figured that,” Ra replied. Most of his focus remained on Phenyo.
“Guess that means you better try a little harder then.” Phenyo winked at him.
Determined not to end up the loser, Ra weighed his options quickly. He dove into a roll that put him safely towards the center of the circle. Phenyo pivoted to follow his movements. Just as she turned, Ra struck. She blocked it, kicking out immediately after to catch him in the side, staggering him.
“Hey! I thought this was just a battle of blades.” His eyes flashed to Izaiah a moment. The wizard only shrugged and smiled. Ra nodded. “Okay then. I see how it is.”
Phenyo adopted another battle stance, weapon held firmly, legs apart. She beckoned to Ra. The expression on her face said come forward if you dare.
And he did dare.
He thrusted his sword at her, and when she fluidly dodged it, he jammed a foot between her maneuvering ankles, which tripped her up. Phenyo’s eyes widened as she went to her backside. Ra moved in and angled the blunt tip of the sword at her throat. He grinned down at her.
“Looks like I win this one.”
“You cheated.” Phenyo frowned. She had to squint because the sun loomed at his back, pouring over the yard.
“I do what I must to take down a foe.” He shrugged. “The important thing is I beat you.”
“Did you?” Her mouth tweaked at one corner, a mischievous gesture. Ra never saw it coming, the dark earth that was flung up into his face.
He groaned and clutched at his eyes.
Phenyo used that instant to sweep his legs from under him, sending him to his back in the sparring ring. She kicked his weapon aside and lowered over his body with her sword under his chin. The guards who’d been watching them spar burst into laughter and cheer; it seemed they’d been rooting on the girl. Even Izaiah chuckled.
“Looks like you lost this one.” Phenyo’s hazel eyes peered down coolly at him. Her long, dark hair had been pulled into a tail, which hung over her shoulder. She held such a tamed yet wild beauty.
Ra-siamun found himself captured in her charm for a moment, staring wordlessly up, still blinking dirt from his eyes. “Now that was cheating.”
“Not really. I did what was necessary to win.” She stood and offered her hand. Ra took it, rising to his feet. “Sorry about the dirt.”
The young prince grunted in reply.
Phenyo giggled.
Izaiah stepped up to them. “I’d say it’s clear that Phenyo won this time. Her skill with weaponry and hand-to-hand is greater than yours, Ra, but you both have much more training to endure, much to learn.”
A guard dressed in a simple tunic, pants, and boots moved forward from the watching crowd. His head was shaved, save for a patch on top from which sprang a long raven braid that fell down his back. His almond eyes suggested he was from the Long Eastern region of Kambia. His body was toned, built and sculpted from years of training. A well forged sword hung from his belt.
The man nodded to Izaiah, and the wizard returned the gesture.
“This is Zhen. He has worked here as captain of the guard for many years, and he will help you tune your combat skills,” Izaiah said.
Phenyo and Ra regarded him closely.
“You’re both good.” Zhen smiled, and his eyes moved to Phenyo. “Who trained you?”
“My personal guard, Mutabaruka.”
“He’s done well; you’ll be easy to teach.”
“Well then,” Izaiah said, “I’ll leave you two with Zhen. You’ll meet here in the yard with him every day for a few hours. I expect you both to show him the same respect you would give me.”
The teens nodded.
Izaiah continued. “I have things to tend to. Should you need me, I’ll be in the palace. You have only to send for me.”
Again they nodded.
Izaiah smoothly strode off.
Zhen took a breath. “Alright, the first thing we’ll work on is form. Spread apart and assume a battle stance for defense.”
*
Concentration. The channeling of emotions…with the aid of his hands.
Zuri’s arms were spread apart, his palms towards the sky. He allowed his heart and mind to fill with an emotion most familiar to him. His love for the Joneses. To him, they would always be mom and dad.
The last brick from the rubble heap landed slowly on top of the new structure Zuri created. He took a deep breath and exhaled, smiling. He examined his work, quite sure Ezra would be pleased with it. It wasn’t bad for his first real go at using his power.
The young wizard turned and headed for the center of the ruins to get Ezra. He went slowly, taking in the archaic mysticism of the fallen pillars, arches, and eroded, vine-covered sculptures. It didn’t take long to find the senior wizard. He sat at the base of the inverted pyramids with his legs crossed and his back to Zuri.
Before the boy could speak, Ezra stood and faced him. Both his long coat and flowing ebony hair stirred in a breeze. His dark eyes danced with calm amusement. His hands clasped at the small of his back.
“How goes your task?”
“I finished with the bricks, and I used my hands. It made channeling my powers easier, just like you said.”
“Lead the way.”
Zuri nodded and obliged, turning to start back through the ruins. Ezra followed in silence. They reached the clearing where Zuri’s ‘work’ sat. The young wizard grinned widely.
Ezra lifted a brow but still smiled. “Impressive.”
The boy had turned the heap of old bricks into a pyramid almost as tall as him. It wasn’t perfect, but it was solid and wouldn’t easily topple.
“You learn quickly, young master. I’m pleased with this. Tomorrow we will return here and you will build something else out of these bricks. In a few days—”
“Tomorrow?” Zuri cut him off. “Can’t we continue today?”
“You’ve exercised your power sufficiently for now. I don’t want you to exert yourself.”
“But I’m not tired.”
Ezra’s serene expression didn’t waver. He was a man set in his ways. “Tomorrow we will continue here.”
Zuri sighed. “Oh, okay.”
“Come.” Ezra started for the path out of the ruins. “As I was saying before you interrupted, in a few days, given the ease with which you’re learning and progressing, I will begin to train you with spells.”
“Spells? Cool!”
Ezra chuckled softly at the boy’s enthusiasm. He wasn’t yet accustomed to some of the terms and phrases Zuri used, but he was sure he soon would be.
“They’ll just be simple spells to start,” Ezra said. “Simple yet effective.”
“Wow. I wish we could start now.”
“I know you do, but you’ll just have to wait. Practice your patience as well as the use of your power, young master. Patience is key throughout the course of life.”
Zuri nodded and listened, anxious to soak up all the senior wizard would teach him.
The two of them left the patch of woods and headed back to the palace.
Twenty-one
By the time Zuri and Ezra returned to the palace, the sun had begun to descend into the western half of the sky; it was well after noon. All during their walk from the ruins, neither boy nor man said anything. They passed beneath an arch of thin twined branches into the large garden behind the palace, and Zuri cleared his throat.
“Ezra?”
“Yes?”
“Who are the Servants of Fate?”
Ezra stopped. His head turned slowly, and dark eyes fell on Zuri. He was genuinely surprised.
“How do you know of them?”
“When the Nevareyt were here, I hid in some bushes and overheard them talking with you, Itvin, Izaiah, and Ra’s father. The Servants of Fate were mentioned. I sneezed and ran off before I could catch much more about them. They’re minions of the Overlord, I know that much.”
The senior wizard nodded after a few seconds, one dark streak of an eyebrow lifting. He decided he would tell the boy about the Servants.
“The Servants of Fate are an old faction developed solely for the purpose of worshipping the Overlord and seeing that he is successful in his plan to gain total control. Most often, he grants the leaders of these cult groups all over Kambia power. From my knowledge, it’s in the form of a ring or medallion. The wearer can wield a small amount of magic, yet even that small amount can prove to be a great thing against one who has no power.”
“Like the Nevareyt, right? They don’t have power, and now the fate servants are trying to penetrate their home, their forest.”
Ezra’s eyes narrowed, and he smirked faintly. “You heard more than just a little that night. Yes, the Nevareyt are an old race that live in harmony with Kambia, but magic isn’t naturally a part of them. Their existence may very well be endangered.”
“Isn’t someone going to help them? Like you, Itvin, Izaiah, or the Empress?”
“You can rest assured that preparation for battle is underway.” The wizard sighed and looked off distantly, thinking. “The Servants of Fate are the least of our worries, though if they are not subdued, they can become an even larger problem.”
Zuri stepped closer, and his voice lowered. “We’re going to have to face them, aren’t we, me and the others?”
“It’s most likely that you and your companions will encounter them, yes.” Ezra nodded. His dark eyes appeared to become even more doused in shadow. “However, they won’t be your most formidable foe.”
Zuri nodded. “I know.”
