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TITLE: Sword's Edge By Cassie Greutman 12/06/08 |
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Chapter One
He was almost out of time. Thyran stood, pulling himself out of the cold metal chair in the middle of the small, bare room. He looked around the for the fifth time. His pulse quickened as adrenaline shot to his heart. His palms began to sweat. He looked around again, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Seconds ticked off in his mind. Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven. He was going to die. The thought ran through his mind before he could control it. There was no way out. If only he hadn’t made that mistake in the last room. Too late now. He had to think rationally. What hadn’t he already tried?
He took a deep breath. He had to regain focus. Thyran slid his hands down and over the door and then started on the smooth walls. Twenty-five, twenty-four, twenty-three. He got down on his knees and started to crawl, feeling the floor, looking for anything unusual, anything that didn’t add up. Ten, nine, eight. His mental clock told him he had only a few seconds left. Why try? He couldn’t do it.
A gong clanged somewhere on the other side of the wall.
His time was up. He let all the air bottled up in his lungs free and sagged against the wall.
A head popped down out of the ceiling. “You lose.” Thyran’s best friend, Kanan, grinned in his direction.
“Is that unusual?” another voice said from the other side of the door. “He’s a loser. Losing is the only thing he knows how to do. At least he does that right.”
Thyran recognized the school-bully’s voice. He tried to ignore it. Nothing Vane said could be taken to heart.
“Enough, Vane.” Orain, one of the teachers at the school, entered the room. “Thyran, Haza would like to see you.”
“Ooo, look who’s in trouble.”
“Wrong Vane. It isn’t Thyran who’s in trouble. It’s you. I told you to leave him alone.”
“But—”
“No.”
Vane dropped his eyes to the floor and didn’t answer.
“Because of your disobedience you will be cleaning the horse stalls. Again.” Orain turned to Thyran. “And you,” he said with a lift of his eyebrow, “will come with me.”
Kanan gave Thyran a sympathetic glance before heading off to who knew where. He’d probably go into the cobbeled streets of the city and play ball with some of the kids there. He tried to give Kanan a smile to let him know that he appreciated it, but he couldn’t get his face to obey.
Orain lead the way out into the courtyard. Dark stone walls loomed in front of them, nearly blocking the sunlight. They walked past a large gate, up two flights of stairs, and through a heavy oak door into a beautiful office that Thyran was much too familiar with.
The headmaster was waiting for him behind an imposing black finished desk. Paintings of past headmasters hung on the walls. They seemed to glare at him from under their wigs and fancy robes. Probably mad that he was ruining their schools record. Thyran waited to be motioned to sit, but the usual wave of the hand didn’t come as expected. Now what? Thyran’s fingers began to tap against his leg. Making a fist, he forced himself to stop.
Headmaster Haza stood and shook out his robes. He glanced at Orain. “That is all.” His voice came across powerful and intimidating.
Orain nodded in respect, turned, and walked out the door.
The headmaster’s piercing gaze turned and caught Thyran. “Young man, you aren’t here for your usual speech. The one I wrote just for you.” The headmaster grinned. It changed his face completely. Frown lines changed positions and became laugh lines as his smile grew.
He had never even seen a smile on the Headmaster’s face before. He couldn’t stop himself, he let his fingers start tapping out an old hymn on his thigh.
“There are some people that would like to meet you. Come.” The headmaster turned to a large portrait on the wall and began to speak. “Open portal to us now. May my power over you never diminish.” Silently, the picture of the king rolled up, revealing a dark stone passageway behind it. A cool gust of air hit Thyran from the hallway behind the oil painting, prompting a burst of chills.
“Come, Thyran.” The headmaster stepped down into the passage.
Unsure of what he would find on the other side, Thyran followed. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, the painting fell back into place. He turned and pushed, could he get back into the office if he needed to? The door wouldn’t budge.
“Keep up, Thyran. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.” Headmaster Haza’s voice had an eerie tone as it echoed up to Thyran from the narrow corridor below him. Not needing any encouragement, Thyran started down the stairs.
In his hurry to catch up to Haza, Thyran narrowly missed tumbling head first down the staircase. His heart almost jumped out of his chest. The fall would certainly be his death on the cold floor below. He straightened and waited a few seconds for his heart rate to get back into the normal range. “How did you do that with the painting? Was it magic?”
Haza laughed and raised his voice. “You can come out now, boys.”
Two boys under the age of ten popped their heads out of dark cubbies in the wall.
Thyran jerked backward. How could two kids be that quiet?
The Headmaster pulled a torch from the wall and lit it. “I was waiting for you to ask. You should have asked sooner. Never hesitate to ask a question.” Smoke curled from the newly lit torch up the stairway, making for the clean air above. “Nothing is as it seems, Thyran. You must question everything.” Again he started down the stairs. “No, it was not magic. I have yet to see evidence for magic in this world.”
“But you run a school that teaches magic!” Thyran rubbed his forehead. It didn’t help the fog starting to blow into his mind.
“Not really,” came the reply. “I teach, to put it bluntly, how to confuse others’ minds. As you just saw, things can be made to appear ‘magical’ but really just be a trick, someone fooling your eyes and other senses.”
One of the little boys giggled from behind.
“What you just saw was me, repeating a password that every headmaster before me has known. The password tells these boys to pull chains, which pull ropes that pull cords, which pull invisible threads that lift the painting. Many brilliant men were believed to be wizards just because they knew how to change what your eyes see.”
The air cooled as they descended even deeper into the earth. The boys still followed a little more than three steps behind Thyran.
“I am not saying that all magic is a hoax,” Haza said. “Magic is just a bad name for it. I believe that there are those who have gifts, gifts they have received from the All-Powerful.”
“But I have been told all my life that the All-Powerful is nothing but a myth, a child’s story.” He asked the question slowly. He had to be careful. It was the headmaster’s school that had taught him to doubt.
“That is one of the many things that has brought our attention upon you. Even as young as you are, you cling to the beliefs that were explained to you when you were a child. I have seen you praying in the garden. I have watched how you treat others with respect and love, even Vane. I know where you stand on all things because I know the God you serve.” The headmaster turned looked him in the eye. He smiled. “But don’t be afraid. He is the same God I worship. The only God who ever was and ever will be. The God that created everything.”
Thyran’s heart leaped. He had found another believer. Thyran couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face. This was the first believer he had met since the day he was taken. Wait. But then, maybe it wasn’t the first. Maybe there were others as cautious as he had been. “Headmaster?”
Haza had started down the stairs. He stopped and turned.
“Are there others like us?”
“Yes, Thyran. We are on our way to meet them. They have a special proposal for you.”
“Proposal?”
“Yes. The others will tell you about it once we get to the end of this tunnel.” Light flickered from somewhere ahead.
Longing filled him. “Is this about my family?” He had never mentioned them to the headmaster before.
“In a round about way. We need to get moving.”
Thyran picked up the pace a little, trying to get the headmaster to move quicker. What could a group of people want with him? What information did they have on his family?
It seemed like hours before the stairs leveled off. Thyran kept expecting the tunnel to widen and open into a cavern or maybe just end into what had to be the middle of the night. Surely the stars were out by now.
Somewhere along the way the boys had disappeared. No sounds told of their slipping away, but that didn’t surprise him, considering he hadn’t heard as much as a stone fall when they were following him. It was a relief—knowing someone was back there but not having any sign of it put him on edge.
He shivered. If he had known where they were going he would have brought a jacket.
He started when Haza called back to him. “We are almost there, Thyran. You should be ready to answer any questions these people ask you. You can trust them with anything.” The headmaster’s smile was almost sad. “You will do well, m’boy. Just remember to hold faithful to our Father.” Haza grasped Thyran’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and moved forward again.
They went around a bend in the tunnel together. Thyran stopped as if he had run into an invisible gate. Before him stood a massive stone wall with intricate carvings running from one side to the other. Thyran stood as still as the stone before him for several moments.
Haza walked forward. This time he began speaking to the wall instead of something hanging on it.
“Time has no power here. Open again your door to me.”
There was a massive cracking noise and then a grinding and creaking. The wall seemed to move toward them.
Thyran stepped back. What if the wall moved too far? What was on the other side? He looked wildly to his guide. Haza stood, gaze steady on the stone, hope filling his face. Looking again, it was obvious that only a small section of the wall had moved. All the noise stopped and an unnatural silence reigned, dust and small debris floating down from all directions. Thyran’s tight muscles loosened.
“Worried, were you not? You did not need to be. The ones on the other side would never allow anything to happen to us. Come.”
As they got closer, words in glowing letters began to stand out on the stone. “What does that say?”
“What does what say, m’boy?”
“Those words, there. Above the door.”
“You can see the writing?” Haza’s eyes darted from the wall to Thyran and back.
“Yes, golden letters, burned into the rock.” The headmaster’s sounded tense. He was always calm and smooth. What could make a man like him nervous? Thyran shifted from one foot to the other. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
“No one has seen the writing on the wall in over a century, Thyran.”
“What does that mean?” Thyran heart rate started to climb again. All this stress couldn’t be good for it. “Why can I see it?”
The headmaster shook his head. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“What does the writing say? It’s in another language.”
“The meaning of the words has been passed down over the years. The writing says in a tongue of old, ‘Enter at the Straight Gate.’”
Thyran’s excitement dropped. It could have been something a little more helpful. “What happens now?”
“We go in.” The headmaster stepped forward. It looked like he would hit the wall before he turned and stopped. Light from whatever was on the other side shone on his face and robes. He walked into the gap that the stone had made as it pulled away from the wall.
Thyran followed slowly. He might not want to see what was on the other side.
Chapter Two
As he stepped into the room, warmth and the smell of pine hit him. There was a peace in the room, a peace he hadn’t felt since he had been taken when he was five. The peace of a family that loved each other. Although, looking around, he revised his last thought. The people in this room were of many races. There were five in the room, not counting the headmaster and himself.
The room must have been made by Jorkins. The walls swelled and waned around the edges, made to help carry the sound. From a distance the wall looked smooth, but when he placed a hand on it he could feel the chiseled texture.
A female Kep sat straight at the edge of her chair. She was reading something. Keps lived in the wilds to the north. The only reason Thyran knew her race was because of the paintings of all the races he was made to memorize at school. Thankfully Orain had taken the time to teach him. He would never complain about learning of the dying races again. Many things were considered an offence to a Kep that were seen as nothing to the other races. Thyran tried not to look in her direction too long.
A Tum stared at him from where he stood warming his hands in front of the fire.
Not far from him a Jorkin wiped his hand on his leather vest and stooped to add wood to the fire.
An Anda leaned against the far wall. He looked to be seven or eight years older than Thyran.
Someone also stood in a back corner wearing a black hooded cloak. Thyran could tell nothing about him, not even his race.
Haza stepped forward and spoke quietly with the Tum. Thyran sidled up to him, standing as close as he could. Just as he began to feel comfortable with the others, a Salin, dressed in all white, walked through another hidden door.
This was the oldest he had ever seen. The Salin was at least two feet taller than the headmaster, who was considered tall for an Anda. Not only were the Salin the oldest of the races, they were also the wisest. The Salin race as a whole lived one to two hundred years longer than the Keps which were next in line. The storytellers said that at seventeen a Salin was wiser than a Tum would ever be in his whole life.
At least five races were represented here. No one knew for sure how many races there were, the many schools throughout the land taught different things. Some said there were only four races, the dying races didn’t count as well as any race that didn’t mingle with the others.
The Andas Thyran knew who believed there were more races argued that, in the paintings of old, there were others who looked quite different than the known races. Some of the old legends talked of a people who lived in the sky, riding fearsome beasts in war. Another legend spoke of a race who lived beneath the sea. They were said to be very mischievous, always making some poor fisherman go crazy when he “misplaced” everything. Though everything about the Camdens was fun-loving, the old stories said something very different about the two remaining races.
There was also a race of small people, the size of the palm of Thyran’s hand. Both the people of the sky and the little people were people of war. Anything would set them off, or so the legends said.
The Salin lifted his hand in a gesture of command. “Is everyone ready to begin?” He motioned for Thyran and the headmaster to sit in the two remaining chairs.
Thyran followed Haza over to the chairs and sat.
The Salin looked around the room again and then sat heavily. “Everyone knows why we are here. Except, of course, the one who this meeting is about. Let us all introduce ourselves. Thyran, my name is Yan.” He motioned toward the Tum. “Timual, you begin.”
The Tum, dressed in three shades of blue, stood, which made him look even shorter standing next to Yan. “My name, as you just heard from Yan, is Timual. I am a Tum.” He sat down with a flourish.
Tumz were from the south and just about as opposite from the Keps as possible. As a people, they were about two feet shorter than the Andas, the race Thyran and Haza belonged to.
Yan turned to the Anda. “You’re next.”
The Anda pushed himself off the wall and stood straight, feet braced as if waiting for a blow. He wore the leather braces of a warrior around each forearm. He started to speak and his voice was calm and mellow. “My name is Unoth, and I will aid you in any way I can.” A pang of longing hit Thyran. The Anda sounded like his older brother, Lak.
Unoth nodded toward the Jorkin.
When he finished placing more wood onto the fire, he straightened and brushed himself off. “You are well acquainted with Jorkins, I assume.” Thyran nodded and he continued. “Good. Then all you need to know is that my name is Lowsen.” He turned back to the fire. At one point the Andas and the Jorkin were one race. Over time, the reason for the split had been forgotten. There were few differences between Thyran and the man in front of him.
Yan gestured toward the Kep. “You are next.”
She glanced up from her book, her eyes were dark, darker than anything he had seen before, set off by the forest shades of her clothing. “My name is Janla.” She started reading again.
The only one left to introduce himself was the one in the black hood. Something wiggled in Thyran’s stomach. He had the unsettling feeling he was being assessed by unseen eyes.
The cloaked figure didn’t even take a step toward the light when he began speaking. “I am Zash.” His voice was high and very smooth. Thyran was expecting a low, hoarse and rasping voice. He waited for the hooded figure to add to what he said. He didn’t.
Yan nodded. “You all know who Thyran and Haza are, correct?”
Everyone but the person in black nodded.
“Good. Now we can really get started. Thyran…” He seemed to study him. “I know that most of what we say today will not make any sense to you. You will just have to listen and trust us.”
Thyran waited for him to continue, his stomach starting to turn.
“I know you do not often leave the school, Thyran, and so you do not know of all the things that have been brewing in the land of Gahara. Our peoples have been struggling with evil since the beginning of time, when the first man the All-Powerful created ate of the fruit of rebellion. Evil can be subtle, quietly trying to control, but there are times when there is all-out war. We are in the midst of one of those times now. Until the last five years, we were able to hold our own. Though there are far more unbelievers, and the evil ones surpass us by the thousands, by the light that surrounds our great cities we were able to survive.”
How could a war have been fought without him knowing about it? Thyran’s mouth began to dry. What else was there he didn’t know about?
Yan shifted in his seat. He didn’t look comfortable with what came next. “Fifteen years ago the enemy started amassing troops. Great numbers of all kinds of creatures. While this was a bad development for our side, we knew that we would be able to stem the tide with the All-Powerful giving us aid. And then the riots began. People began to fear, and fear along with pride are two of the enemy’s greatest weapons. They began to leave their worship of the one true God and started spouting nonsense about all the races coming from different animals.”
“What did the Holy One do?” Thyran licked his lips.
“He did as He did so long ago with the first man. He let them make their own choice. And in letting them make their own choice, He removed His protection. The light has been removed from the havens.”
Would the Almighty One really remove his protection from his followers at the same time he took it from the unbelievers? Numbness spread through Thyran’s body.
“What about those that trust the Almighty One?”
“The holy men of the All-Powerful received a message from Him. ‘Get out.’ All true believers left the cities. Some wanted to stay, to preach the Word, but others told them the truth. If there were any of the races, even one, the Holy One would have left someone to tell them of Him and His Son. And so they left. The wicked rejoiced—the believers were annoying, always in the way, always preaching. And as the believers left in such a hurry, they left many of their possessions behind. They were taunted as they left. The people, full of sin, told them how they would die outside the city walls with no protection.”
Yan sighed. No doubt it was hard for him to speak about this.
“Though the believers were scared, they knew that our God would not send them out to be massacred. The doors of the gate were barred behind them. And so, with all of the light and all of the goodness leaving the cities, you can guess what came next. No one wanted to work, and so the city gates and walls fell into disrepair. The cities started to tear themselves apart, everyone only caring about themselves. Murders happened everywhere, no one wanting to put themselves in danger for one of their own kind. Then, somewhere around ten years ago, the king was assassinated.”
“We were told it was an accident. How did he die?” It wasn’t a surprise that someone would kill the king. Almost everyone hated him. He was a cruel, bitter man.
“He was attacked by a wild animal of some sort. Some say it was a big cat of some kind, some say a dragon. Everyone was told it was an accident, but I find it hard to believe he was attacked randomly in his own courtyard. War broke out in the capital city after his death, everyone had his own opinion on who should become the next king. Some believed Aman, the crown prince, should be rewarded the title. Others believed Anak, the younger, more warlike son, should take the crown. He, after all, would be a much better candidate to lead them to victory against all enemies.” Yan paused for a second.
“And, at this point, they were starting to get quite a list of them. Their choice was taken from them when Aman was killed in his sleep. Although many suspected Anak, there was no proof either way. Chaos reigned. Anak tried to control the multitudes, but a civil war began. Cities decided they did not need a king who would not understand them and would possibly treat them unfairly because of his love for his own city, so they broke off to make their own countries and royal houses. Anak could not control his own city, let alone bring back the ones who opted to secede. As the cities fell further and further into darkness, the evil one began his march. Where great cities once stood, now there is only rubble.”
How could the cities he had always heard about be rubble? How could it have happened so fast? There had been rumors circulating about an army, but nothing had been said about an attack. “Are you saying all of the great cities are just.… gone?”
“Yes and no. People still live in the ruins, people and.… others.”
A chill ran down Thyran’s spine. “And the believers, what happened to them?”
“You wouldn’t remember, would you? Your parents were some of them that left Kalhah, the capital city. All the believers moved into the mountains. There are many connecting caves and catacombs throughout the Mountains of Time. They train even now for a time when good will take the country from evil again.”
“I see a question going through your mind, young man,” Haza said. “You may ask anything you wish.”
“Why are you here, and not in the Mountains of Time with the rest of the believers?” Thyran asked.
“Good question—” Yan started to answer.
“’Bout time you asked, boy,” the Tum said.
“He is hardly a boy to you, Timual, I happen to know you are only two years older than him.” Yan said. He turned to Thyran. “Tumz get their beards early in life. Now, back to what I was saying.” He mock glared at Timual. “There are some of us that the Holy One sends out into the world. Your headmaster for example.”
Thyran glanced at Haza, who nodded at him.
“He sends us to those He knows are searching for Him.” Yan gestured toward Thyran. “Or those who already know the truth but are living without the benefit of true instruction and fellowship.”
“Do you have a copy of the Word?” Thyran asked.
Yan smiled, and the others around the room chuckled or grinned at his eagerness. “Yes I do. If only all others were as ready to read it as you.” He pulled a scroll out of his robe. “Your father sent this for you.”
A tickle started in Thyran’s heart and spread to his soul. “My father? He is well?” He stretched a trembling hand out for the scroll.
“Yes, your whole family is doing fine. You have two younger sisters and a brother that you have never met.”
“Little sisters? And a brother?” Thyran leaned against the wall, hard. “Yes. You do. And they love you. They want you to come back.”
“Go back? How can I? I don’t remember where I’m from! And my mother, is she well?” Against his will, eagerness dripped from every word.
“Someday we will show you the way home. Until then, you must train. And, yes, your mother is fine. Except for the fact that she longs for your return.”
Thyran shoved himself off of the wall and stepped close to Yan. “Train? What do you call all I have been doing until now? I want to see my family. There isn’t any way I can go to them even for a short while?” Begging hadn’t been the plan, but that’s how it came out.
Yan’s smile turned sad. “You have been training for life before today. From now on you will be training to serve the Almighty One. Unoth is here to train you to wield a sword, Lowsen to teach you to shoot a bow, Janla is here to teach you about the land.”
What could he learn about the land? It was just there.
The Kep looked up from her book when she heard her name. She glanced around, then returned to the page she was reading.
“Timual has volunteered to instruct you in the Word, and Zash will be working on your animal handling skills. Riding especially. And no, you will not be able to visit your family for some time. But some of them may visit you.”
His heart leaped and his eyes snapped up from the floor where they had been staring. “When can they visit? And what do you mean, animal handling skills?”
“When it is safe for them to come, your family will be here. And about the animals, the creatures of the forest are nothing like the dumb beasts you have known before now. Zash will teach you how to gain their respect and, through that, possibly their assistance.” Yan turned to Haza. “You may go now.”
Haza dipped his head toward Yan in a sign of respect and started for the door.
Thyran turned to follow him, following Haza’s example and giving Yan the gesture of respect that was reserved for nobles. He noted the looks the others were giving each other and wondered what was going on.
The headmaster turned, sensing Thyran behind him. “You are to stay here m’boy. Your training begins tomorrow.”
Thyran stood there a few seconds. “Headmaster, may I please speak with you alone?” Hopefully the crack in his voice wasn’t as loud as it sounded to him.
Haza nodded, obviously feeling sorry for him, and stepped through the door they had come through earlier.
He followed the headmaster through the door. He hardly noticed the room this time. “Why do I have to stay here?” He tried to fight off the panic that was trying to take him. “Why can’t I go back with you? Or go back with you and come here every day, or you just stay here with me?” He pleaded with his eyes, begging the headmaster not to leave him.
Haza’s kind gaze went straight through Thyran. “You cannot come back with me because I have no way of explaining your absence every day for hours on end. And for somewhat the same answer I cannot stay here with you. You have no family ”
“But in there they said I—”
The headmaster quieted his protests. “You have no family that anyone knows about. Everyone at the school was told that you were found in a basket in the woods. No one knows of your true heritage and, I am sorry to say, no one cares.”
He must have realized how harsh that sounded. “No one except for the people in that room, and your parents, of course, care at all. I, on the other hand, am considered an important person.” He sent Thyran a wry smile. “When, in reality, I am nothing compared to you.” What was that supposed to mean?
Thyran rubbed his forehead. “What about Kanan? He’ll be looking for me.”
“Yes, he will, but it is best and safest for him and his family if he never finds out the truth.” Safest for his family? What were these people planning on him doing? Exhaustion started to creep through his body as his mind tried to grasp everything going on.
He had spent wonderful times with Kanan and his family. Whenever the school let the students out for more than a day, Thyran would travel with Kanan on a four-hour walk to visit his family. Kanan’s mother had treated him as if he was her own. “It would be dangerous for them if Kanan knew the truth?” Thyran asked, a headache forming just under the surface of his scalp.
“Very. This is the best way. Those that you have met today love you in our Lord. You have nothing to fear from them.” Haza’s tone carried his sympathy.
“Not even the one with the black cloak? He’s a little scary.”
“Zash?” The headmaster laughed. “I suppose it would be intimidating meeting one such as Zash in the manner you met today. But I have a surprise for you. Zash isn’t a he, but a she!” Thyran stomach dropped to his toes. The headmaster laughed even harder until tears dripped from his eyes. “Wait until I tell her!”
“No, you can’t! Please, Headmaster, don’t tell her! You aren’t kidding? Zash is really a girl?” Heat filled Thyran’s face. He was sure he looked like he had been out in the sun for ten hours straight.
“Yes, she is, m’boy, and I won’t tell her if you really don’t want me to. But she will not hurt you. Much. That is, unless you sass her when she is trying to teach you something or you make stupid remarks about her people.”
“Which people are her people?” A squirm of discomfort wormed its way through Thyran’s.
“You will have to ask her. It is time for me to leave, Thyran. You should go back in.”
“You will come and visit, won’t you?” Thyran couldn’t control the tone of hopelessness that slipped past his guard.
“Yes, and it will not be to give you your speech, I hope. I never want to tell you to work harder again, you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s time I left.” He gripped Thyran’s shoulder. “Never give up, son.” With the last words barely out of his mouth, the headmaster turned and headed into the gloom of the stairway.
Thyran stood and watched him until he disappeared into the darkness. It was fitting, the darkness was washing over Thyran.
Chapter Three
As Thyran stepped back into the room, it was déjà vu. Yan was gone, Timual and Lowsen were back at the fire, the girl in black was still standing in her corner, Janla was still reading her book and the other Anda, Unoth, had leaned against the wall again.
“Where did Yan go?” Thyran didn’t care who answered.
Janla didn’t even look up. Timual answered, “He headed to bed. He may not look it, but he’s very old, even for a Salin.”
The Tum stood. “You had better get to bed too. Training starts tomorrow. Let me take you to your room.”
He gestured for Thyran to walk ahead of him though a small doorway cut into the stone. The door lead to a small corridor. They had walked quite a while in the near darkness when Thyran forced himself to speak.
“I still don’t understand why I’m here. You all obviously know a lot more about everything than I do. Do you have any ideas?”
Timual stopped and turned around. “You really don’t know?”
Thyran shook his head no.
“They’ve never told you anything about your role in this war?”
“No,” Thyran squeaked.
“Then I guess you’ll have to have a talk with Yan,” Timual said as he wheeled around and started walking again, this time much faster.
Why wouldn’t anyone answer his questions? What were they hiding? Wariness gnawed at his heart.
Thyran tried to memorize the many turns they made as they twisted through the mountain, but he was lost after ten minutes of walking. It was at least a half an hour before Timual stopped in front of a small door, made of a wood Thyran had never seen before. The Tum took a ring of keys out of his pocket and handed one to Thyran.
“Here’s your room and key. In the morning when you’re ready to meet with the rest of us, step out the door, turn left and just walk until you get to the council room door. Good luck.” And before Thyran could say anything, he was gone.
Not knowing what to expect, Thyran unlocked his door and stepped inside. It was even more bare than his room back at the university. He certainly wasn’t stepping up in the world.
The small metal cot on the other side of the room didn’t look very comfortable.. He walked over to the bed and sat down. The mattress wasn’t quite as bad as he expected it to be. A cabinet on the opposite side of the bed caught his eye. A small desk sat beside it.
He walked over to the desk and opened one of the two drawers. It was filled with paper and ink. He closed it and opened the next, it was full of books.
He got them out one by one and read the title aloud as he stacked them on the desk. “The Legends of Old. That sounds interesting.” He sat it to the side and took the next one out. “How to Keep Your Head in the Midst of Battle (In More Ways Than One). I’ll probably need that one too.” He put it on top of the first book and pulled out the next. “How to Live a Life that Pleases the Holy One. I know I need that one.” His father would love these. He felt in the bottom of the drawer, looking for the next book. His hand felt nothing but wood.
“That’s odd. I know I saw another book in there.” Thyran walked over to the nearest wall and pulled a torch out of its socket. He walked back to the desk and held the light above. It was empty.
“Huh. Strange.” He stepped back from the desk and looked at it again. Nothing seemed out of place.
“I guess it’s time for bed. I must be getting tired.” Thyran put the first two books back into the desk and then he picked up How to live a life that pleases the Holy One and carried it over and sat it on his bed. He pulled out his copy of the Word that Yan had given him only hours before from his oversized shirt and sat it on top. He walked back over to the small desk and assessed it. Judging it to be much lighter than it looked, he tugged on it. It moved easily enough so he pulled it over to the bed and then placed the books on top.
Thyran walked to the chair that belonged with the desk, pulled it over and sat it in place. He sat down to read the Word for the first time in his life. “Love is shown in its fullest when a man dies for his friends.” He must have started in the wrong section. Thyran turned to the beginning and started reading about the garden the All-Powerful had created for his people, before families had split into tribes and tribes into races.
* * *
Zash slipped away from Thyran’s door. Could Timual be trusted? She didn’t know, so as soon as the Tum made a wrong turn in the hall she turned to follow. She didn’t put as much hope in this boy as the others, but he was prophesied about. Timual had lead the boy to his room. Maybe the Tum didn’t know the hallways well yet either.
She stopped and listened at a corner. No one was coming. Maybe there would be a few minutes of quiet for her tonight. Maybe.
* * *
What woke me? Thyran drifted awake sprawled across his new desk. There was an odd glow in the room. It was almost the same as sunlight, but this far underground that was impossible. Wasn’t it? He stood and walked over to the cabinet. Thyran opened the door and glanced inside. “What to wear, what to wear,” he mumbled as he grabbed a plain shirt of normal quality out of the middle.
“This will do.” Thyran was browsing through the trousers when he heard voices outside in the hallway. He grabbed a pair of pants and put them on as he ran to the door and threw it open.
Janla and Unoth were outside. “Unoth, Unoth, wait!” Thyran yelled down the hallway, they were almost out of sight. Both of them turned back toward him.
“I need to talk to you.” Thyran jogged a little and caught up with them.
“Morning, Thyran.” Unoth said.
Janla nodded. “What can we help you with?”
Thyran stopped. “I was wondering if you could wait just a couple minutes while I finish getting dressed and then show me how to get to the council room.”
“Thyran, the door is right there,” Unoth pointed ahead. “Don’t you know that from last night?”
“W-what?” Thyran stuttered. “It took us over a half an hour last night!”
Janla rolled her eyes. “That’s a Tum for you,” She glanced toward Thyran for the first time. “Tumz are known to be terrible about practical jokes. He’s probably in his room nearly dying right now.” Thyran’s face began to heat.
“Thanks. I guess I’ll go finish getting dressed.” The heat moved down from his face and covered his whole body.
Unoth smirked. “You do that.” He chuckled and they both turned and walked toward the door. “And by the way, you are going to be late.”
“Late?”
“Yes, this time every morning we’re supposed to be in the council room,” he said, his smirk growing.
“No one told me!” Adrenaline started pumping as he got ready to run back to his room.
Unoth burst out laughing.
Janla must have taken pity on him because she turned and said, “You’re the exception today, Thyran, but only today. Yan decided it would be good to let you sleep in.”
Thyran sighed in relief. He didn’t want to mess everything up on his first day.
“Go, get changed.” Janla smiled at him and turned back to the door.
He smiled back but it was too late.
Unoth just rolled his eyes.
Thyran jogged back to his room to change. He wasn’t going to let himself be much later than the others. He reached his door and turned the handle. At least he tried to turn the handle. It wouldn’t budge.
Glancing down the tunnel one way then the other, Thyran hoped no one was watching. This was so embarrassing. He twisted it again. It wouldn’t move. Quiet laughter came from behind him. Thyran spun around.
Yan was standing there, a key in his hand.
“Here you go, son. Everyone that has come before you has done that. The doors lock by themselves.” He handed Thyran a key. “I suggest you keep one of the two keys you have now around your neck.” He winked at Thyran. “I had better be going. My students are all going to beat me to the classroom.” He started to leave but Thyran stopped him.
“What do you teach, sir?”
“I teach as many people as possible to recognize deception.” He looked Thyran in the eye. “There are many people, and creatures, that will try to deceive you in this walk of life. I am here to see that they don’t have an easy time of it. Now change. I will stall the class.” With that the Salin started on his way again.
“Thank you, sir.” Thyran called after him.
“You are welcome, son.”
When Thyran opened the door to his room he noticed that the walls had dimmed. There was still enough light to see, but not enough to read. Probably because everyone was supposed to be in class. So far only his surroundings had changed. It seemed like he was just getting ready for another day of school. He would walk out the door and Kanan would be there waiting for him. He had to stop daydreaming and get moving. The others were already waiting.
The door creaked as Thyran opened it and tip-toed out. His boots made huge thudding noises even as he tried to be as quiet as possible. It was so silent in the corridor that even his breathing sounded loud.
He took the short walk to the council room door at a fast clip. Once he got there he put his hand on the door knob and stopped. He took a big breath and then squeezed the handle as he turned it. Everyone from the night before except for Zash were sitting around a large wooden table in the middle of the room. It had not been there last night. The chairs that were in use the night before were pulled up to the table.
The night before he had been told that these were the teachers, but now he was told that they were Yan’s students too. Had they come here for one reason and then were asked to do the other, or did they come for both?
“Welcome Thyran. I am glad you made it. You are up earlier than I expected,” Yan said as if he had not just helped Thyran in the hallway.
“I couldn’t sleep. The light woke me.”
“Light?” It was the first time Thyran had seen anything but peace on his new headmaster’s face.
“Yes, the lights on the walls. They were there in my room and also in the hallway.” Thyran’s palms started to sweat.
“There aren’t any lights for us, Thyran.”
Thyran sagged into the open chair next to Yan. What was that supposed to mean?
Unoth had his chair back on two legs but now let them crash onto the floor. “I wondered why you didn’t have a torch this morning. Didn’t I Janla? I said to you ‘I wonder why he doesn’t have a torch’ didn’t I?”
Janla nodded indulgently.
“That is very interesting.” Yan said.
Unoth chest swelled and Thyran could almost see his head getting bigger.
“Not about your story, you big lug. About Thyran seeing light where there isn’t any!” Timual clarified from his chair. He had a different chair, this one was also made to better fit his smaller frame but with longer legs so he could see everything going on at the table
“Oh,” Unoth deflated.
“Well, it does not matter to us right now. Thyran, we will talk of this later. Right now we are going to give you an example of the work we do in this class. Lowsen will ask Unoth a question, and Unoth will answer how he with a lie or the truth, whichever he wishes. Lowsen must decide if he is being lied to or not. Lowsen, go ahead.”
“Unoth, how late were you up last night?”
Unoth looked almost like he was sleeping. He must have been up late the night before.
“Unoth!” Lowsen called loudly.
Unoth’s head fell forward and hit the table. It popped right back up. “Huh? What? What’s going on?”
Everyone laughed. Thyran couldn’t help himself as Unoth’s face got red.
“You’re the one to answer the questions today. Wake up!” Timual said.
Unoth shook his head. “Uh, ok. I’m ready.” Unoth looked embarrassed. “What was his question?”
Lowsen repeated the question and sat back in his chair with a satisfied smile.
“Oh that’s easy.” He casually leaned back in his chair and then pushed off the table onto two legs. He promptly lost his balance and tumbled to the floor, chair and all. Thyran could almost see the heat radiating off of his face as he lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling.
“If it’s ok with you Yan, I’ll just stay here for a couple seconds.” His voice sounded weak as it drifted up from the floor.
And this was the guy that was supposed to teach him how to use a sword?
Unoth craned his neck over and looked up at Lowsen. He struggled into a seated position, then stood. Unoth picked up his chair and sat it upright. He plopped down onto it. “As for your questions Lowsen, I went to bed at twelve.”
Lowsen rolled his eyes. “Lie.”
Unoth sighed. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
Thyran couldn’t contain a snort of laughter. Unoth turned and stared him down, eyes narrowing into slits. Thyran sucked in a breath and nearly choked. It would probably be best not to get on his teacher’s bad side the first day of school.
“Does anyone want to explain whats going on?” Yan asked the group.
“Sure,” Lowsen said. “The first steps aren’t hard at all. Let me demonstrate.”
He stood and walked over to the fire. “What you do is just watch. That really is all there is to it. Watch the person’s hands, watch their eyes.” He started darting his eyes all-over, looking at one thing and then the next. “But what will teach you the most he will have to go over with you.” Lowsen nodded toward Yan. “Wisdom is taught in the Word. You can gain wisdom through experience, but it is much easier to learn through the Word that the Holy One has given us.”
“Good, Lowsen.” Yan said after he finished. “That is enough for today. I will go over everything Thyran needs to know with him. You all go out and set up whatever you will need for your lessons with Thyran.”
The others all stood and filed out. “You will do very well today.” Yan said. “You will be staying here with me for a short time. I have some things to go over with you. You will have to work hard, not only to catch up in this class, but I’m sure all the other children will have quite a bit if work for you as they teach you their specific skills.”
Unoth was just leaving the room and heard everything. He turned around and stared at Thyran, then started laughing like a maniac.
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