Chapter 1
Will opened his eyes after having eased his mind back from deep meditation. The past four days had been hard on both mind and body, spell casting always was, but more so when you tried to learn how to mix spells of different elements. Earthkin and firekin were Will's strongest and he mastered them to completion, however mixing them was a different matter.
Sharican had patiently begun teaching him airkin spells as well a few months ago, but they were a bit different and Will didn't always understand what the old sorcerer meant with his cryptic guiding. That never discouraged him though, it made him try even harder and eventually he succeeded.
"You've worked hard, Will," Sharican said when he had the young man's full attention. "I'm proud of you."
Will smiled and bowed his head in gratitude at the man in the tall-backed and worn armchair.
Sharican studied Will where he sat cross-legged and barefooted on the floor in front of him. "You'll go far, boy. One day you'll master allkin spells and the spiritkin spells you've been having trouble with lately will seem like child's play to you."
"I'm flattered you think so highly of me, master. But allkin? There are only a few sorcerers in the entire world who can do that."
Sharican smiled his knowing, patient smile. "You're still young, give it time."
"I will," he agreed after a short, doubtful moment and his lips turned into a crooked line.
~You shouldn't doubt him, Will,~ said Ashiná, her deep, warm voice echoing within him. ~He knows what he speaks of.~
Will sighed and couldn't help but smile at his spirit guardian's friendly chiding as she spoke his doubt for him.
"How old are you now, Will?" Sharican broke in, oblivious to the internal exchange. After that first conversation between Sharican and the spirit guardian, Ashiná had closed off the open path into Will's mind and become only his. "Eighteen?"
"Twenty-one, master."
"Well past majority then," Sharican chuckled and rose out of his chair, his tone of voice hinted at the fact that he very well knew the young man's age.
Will watched as the old man rummaged around among the dusty, odd stuff in the shelves along the wall, and after a few grunts and the muttered curses he was so generous with sometimes – without for that matter being offending, he pulled out a chafed wooden box. He rested it carefully in his lap when he sat back in his chair with a deep breath.
"Your time here with me has come to an end, Will." Sharican raised a gnarly, long-fingered hand to silence the flow of protests that spilled over the young man's lips. "Nothing lasts forever, and besides, there is nothing more I can teach you now."
"But there's so much more…"
"The rest you'll have to learn on your own. And I have a strong belief that you will."
Will stared in quiet disbelief at the old sorcerer. This was not happening, there was still so much he needed to learn, to ask.
"There came a messenger the other day when you were visiting your family," Sharican continued. "The king has summoned all the sorcerers to his aid within the month. We are, it seems, at war with our neighbouring country and the king needs us all to reinforce his army."
Sharican sighed, the messenger had sounded so surprised when he realized the old sorcerer had heard nothing of the war. But that was the way of his kind, not much of the world reached a sorcerer unasked for. It had gone on for almost a year already, beginning with skirmishes along the border and only in the last five months escalated into full scale war with whole troops clashing in battle. Now even sorcerers had involved themselves and the king needed everyone currently in his kingdom to defend his borders.
Will studied Sharican's face when the silence lengthened, lines of age and wisdom barely covered by a shade of day's old grey beard. The look in the boy's brown eyes was true to the perceptive and attentive mind he possessed. "You're leaving, then?" he asked quietly.
Sharican smiled. "Yes. And so are you."
"Me? What can I do?" His dark eyebrows shot up in astonishment.
"You can do it all, Will. Never doubt yourself or your abilities. You have far surpassed every expectation and my heart holds nothing but pride for you."
Will stared at the old sorcerer, his vision blurring with tears.
Sharican met his eyes for a moment and then opened the box to escape the emotions that began to shred the old man's determination; he couldn't afford to stop now. "There are three things you will receive from me, Will. First, a gift." He took out a sheathed dagger and held it hilt first to Will. "This was passed down the line of my family to every young man and woman who ever became sorcerer. Since I never had any children of my own I give it to you now."
Will took it carefully. It was an ordinary, undecorated dagger with leather wrapped around the handle and a double-edged blade, but to Will it was the most precious gift he had ever received.
"Do not let the plain appearance fool you," said Sharican all the same. "The blade is forever sharp. But I do not want you to use it as a weapon, never as a weapon. Other than that it's up to you to decide its use."
Will's eyebrows drew as he contemplated his master's enigmatic words but he knew better that to ask, the answer to that question would be even more puzzling.
"Secondly, a duty. This is what I want you to use the most." Sharican took out a pouch from the box before he put it aside. "You will collect herbs for healing in this pouch and you will never let it run empty. It's the first and only duty that I give you."
"Yes, master." Will could only manage a whisper.
"The third, I wish I didn't have to give you, but dreams and my guardian have told me otherwise." He looked up and locked eyes with Will. "A warning that's for your ears only, because telling the wrong person could prove disastrous and lead to the demise of this kingdom and its people. A warning that you must follow to the extent of your powers, to the end of your own life. Care for the tiger and beware of the raven."
Will blinked. "The tiger? Master, I already have the tiger, to care for her is not…"
"Things are not always what we want them to be, Will. You'll know when you meet the one."
Will gave Sharican a tentative look. "And the raven?"
"You will know."
* * * * * * *
It was in the early summer months that Will was summoned to the large war camp west of the city of Adeban to report to the high commander Rión of the king's first army. He walked into the vast camp and stopped. It was bustling with activity and he couldn't help but stare for a moment, baffled; he had never thought so many men could live so close together in such a relatively small area with only the barriers of tent canvas to grant them any kind of privacy.
Then a heavy loaded wagon pulled by two heavy horses rolled up the dusty road behind him and he had to choose between moving on or get run over.
So many sights and smells and sounds rolled over his senses when he followed the road through camp that Will had to search within him to shut some of the most unfamiliar ones out, before he could even begin to sort them all out. Ashiná murmured a bit amused to him to calm down and he shot her an inward glare, then she laughed instead.
Eventually Will found a soldier that actually knew where the high commander was at the moment, and he was directed to the largest tent on the flat hill in the middle of the camp. The two soldiers on guard outside stopped him and asked him in demanding tones to state his business.
"I'm to report to the high commander," Will said and the two men shot each other a disbelieving glance under the edges of their helms.
"A bit young, aren't we?" one chuckled.
"And just who are you, then?" the other asked, only a bit more successful than his comrade to hide his grin.
"I'm Will De'Noa, sorcerer."
That got them moving. No one really wanted to rub a sorcerer the wrong way no matter how young he looked, and everybody knew appearances were always deceiving when it came to sorcerers. One of the men hurried inside the tent to announce his arrival to the high commander and left his now a bit wary and wide-eyed comrade alone with Will. The man made a brave attempt to smile, but it came out rather crooked and uncertain. Soon enough Will was ushered into the gloomy tent by the apprehensive soldiers and asked to wait until the high commander could receive him.
It took only a moment for sorcerer's sight to adjust to the new light and then Will clearly saw the large wooden table and benches that took up most of the tent and the smaller folding tables that stood along the walls. Piles of papers and maps were spread over every available surface and oil fuelled lamps spread enough light over them to make them readable.
Will clasped his hands behind his back and waited until one of the broad shouldered men by the table noticed him. The man gestured for him to wait a moment longer and then turned back to the conversation he was involved in.
Will allowed himself a moment to study them; commanders of high rank all of them according to the markings on the collars of their surcoats. Will could hear the faint chiming of chain mails as they shifted or gestured to some part of the map and the dull gleams of sword hilts under their cloaks told him at least three of them were armed, probably with more than just swords.
They were all tall and broad shouldered, with voices that were used to command and faces that demanded respect from whoever they looked upon. Most had dark hair and a beard or moustache of one or another kind, sharp featured faces lined with years of experience and hard-earned knowledge. But the one who drew Will's attention even though his back was turned, was a man with dark golden hair that was plaited in a strict, intricate braid from the top of his head and reached down below the shoulders of a dark blue surcoat. A wide leather belt encircled a slim waist and held a beautiful sword to his left hip, and the gesture he made to a certain area of the map was measured and fluid.
There was a sensation of energy and magnetism around the man that was alluring somehow. Will found he was staring.
"So, you are young De'Noa, then." The deep, booming voice of high commander Rión forced Will to tear his eyes away from the young man's back.
"Yes, I am, high commander."
"Very well. I apologise but I can't leave the council at the moment. I'll have a man show you to your fellows and let them help you settle in." Rión put a large, strong hand on Will's shoulder to show him out of the tent, clearly not as intimidated by a sorcerer as his soldiers.
When Will was about to turn and leave, the young blond turned his head slightly to see who it was that had forced the high commander to abandon their discussion, and Will caught a glimpse of deep blue eyes. Then the blond turned his head again and Will was ushered back out into the daylight.
The two soldiers straightened up in rapt attention when the high commander stepped outside. They made a quick salute and hardly blinked when the high commander ordered one of them to show the newly arrived sorcerer to the part of camp where his fellows resided.
The soldier who found himself guiding Will through camp threw more than one wary look over his shoulder at Will; obviously he wasn't too fond of having a sorcerer behind his back. He was more than happy to leave once they entered a part of camp that seemed to be its own secluded area within the large whole.
Will stood indecisive for a moment before he saw a tall, slim man that was heading his way. He was old judging by the straggling, grey hair and the fine lines in the corners of his eyes. He was dressed in the customary grey coat and breeches of a sorcerer on official duty and his coat had the length of leader status, reaching to his knees.
"Ah, a new arrival, I see," was the greeting Will got.
"Yes, I suppose I am," he said a bit hesitantly.
"Aron is my name, sorcerer of course."
"Will De'Noa." He took the hand that was held out towards him and marvelled at the very strong grip.
"Hmm, don't think I've heard that name before." Grey eyes peered curiously out from under bushy, grey eyebrows.
"You could say I'm rather new as a sorcerer, sir," Will said and found himself meeting those eyes despite the nervous fluttering in his stomach.
Aron laughed softly. "Still new enough to have kept your family name, I hear. Who is your master, if I may ask?"
"Sorcerer Sharican."
"Ha! The old devil!" Aron laughed again, more exited this time, and clapped a hand down on Will's shoulder. "He said he'd take an apprentice when he got back home. So, how is he?"
"He was fine last I saw him."
"He's not with you then?" There was a trace of disappointment in the older sorcerer's voice.
"I'm afraid not. He was summoned to the capital to sit on the king's council."
"Yes, I should've known. He's got quite a head on those gnarly shoulders of his." Aron urged Will along with him into camp.
They made their way between the small tents to the middle of the little camp and the fire where the rest of the sorcerers were gathered. They all looked up expectantly when Aron introduced him. They all greeted Will with smiles and polite handshakes and he found himself relaxing in their cheerful company. From what Will gathered during the brief introductions there were two groups of sorcerers in the camp and Henron was the other leader with a coat as long as Aron's.
Some of the sorcerers seemed to know Will's master by more than just his name and reputation, and they all wanted to hear what "the old devil" was up to nowadays. Will settled in next to Aron and a redheaded sorcerer named Piotry and they all shared their stories like it was the most common thing to do.
* * * * * * * *
Prince Kell Deasir al E'Tharion, eldest son to King Henory Aneo al E'Tharion, and heir to the throne of the kingdom of Waunban, pushed the tent flap aside and walked out into the afternoon warmth. The soldiers on guard saluted him as he passed by and he nodded to them before heading over to his own tent further down the hill.
He had rather remained in the company of his commanders to discuss what they should do next to keep the enemy scouts and looters off their land in-between fending off attacks, but he had a report to write and send to his father and he had already put it off long enough. He really didn't want to, but as the leader – well, official leader anyway – of this army, reporting to the king was his duty and the commanders were more than competent to decide on their next move without him. After all, they did have more battle experience between them than Kell could wish for himself in his twenty-four year long life, but he did have education enough to come with very qualified comments and suggestions, and he had learned a lot since he first came out here.
The commanders respected him deeply even if he hadn't been their prince, for his suggestions had more than once proved to result in victory, and they treated him as one of them now. Though it hadn't always been so, he had grown a lot in the past year.
Two of the oil lamps were already lit and there was a tray on the small folding table when he entered his tent. His manservant Janu had obviously already been expecting him and the sweet smell of melting butter reminded him he hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning. Despite the complaining his stomach engaged in he set about to find paper, ink and quill pen to finish that report. No more distractions or delays, he decided.
After four pages and a sore fingertip where he had held the pen too tightly, he told himself that would have to do, father would know all that went on in camp anyway through the reports the commanders sent him every week. Kell's report was of a more personal nature as his father had requested. Kell knew the king wanted to keep track of his oldest son, but without seeming too concerned. He missed his father and the steady presence he exuded, and his mother and younger sister and little brother too, of course.
No, no memories now, Kell chided himself and broke off a piece from the loaf of bread on the tray. Memories would only distract him and that would not do.
One of the scouts came back to camp later that afternoon and Kell found himself suddenly surrounded by his swarming commanders. Rión could be heard over all of them with that booming voice of his, demanding order, and they all quickly settled down. Kell could always count on Rión to take charge when the prince himself didn't, and he appreciated the man's presence when the other men heeded his will.
"My prince," the high commander began and bowed his head in respect. "A scout has returned with news of the Iloron forces. They are moving again. They are sending two thousand men and heavy cavalry across the river, heading for this camp. They aim to reclaim the land we took back from them two weeks ago."
Kell's eyebrows drew as he considered this. The Iloron king Uriche was greedy and hot tempered, but not foolish. Kell's own forces had the land in question in a firm grip and it would not be easy for Uriche to take it back. Two thousand men were not enough to engage in battle with the Waunban battalion in this camp, even if Iloron cavalry were a force to be reckoned with. He got up out of his chair and walked over to study a worn map on the table. He drew circles on the smooth leather with a fingertip as he contemplated his enemy's move.
"Make sure the captain in charge of the force at the front outpost is ready when the enemy attacks, I'm sure it will be very soon."
"Yes, my prince," Rión agreed but said no more, he had seen this look on the prince's face before and knew he had more to say.
"I want a large troop from this camp sent up river to hold the north river crossing and one equally large troop sent south to the crossing north of the Peaks."
Rión nodded, his brow furrowed as he contemplated this move. A low mumble passed between one and another of the gathered commanders.
"I don't believe the main attack will come head on," Kell explained. "Uriche is far too cunning and experienced for that. I believe the troop heading for this camp is only a diversion to keep us occupied while his main force slips around us to attack from the rear."
"How would you know that, my prince?" one of the men asked, a small furrow between his eyebrows.
"That's what I would do. A frontal attack on our main camp would only lead to his defeat; he has the lesser number even if he rallies them all, as well as the disadvantage of charging from the river. Besides, a sneak attack seems more Uriche's style."
"Yes," Rión nodded with a crooked grin. "I agree. They have two ways to get around us, as you already pointed out, my prince." He put a meaty finger on the map. "The river crossing here by main camp would be the easiest way but also obvious, and Uriche never was known to do anything easy."
The other commanders nodded now when Rión had stated he liked the prince's plans and that was that. Rión remained for a while longer when the others went to rattle the battle bells.
"Thank you, Rión," Kell said heartfelt when they were alone.
"For what, my prince?" The high commander seemed honestly confused.
"For helping me convince the others just now."
Rión let out one of his booming laughs then. "I didn't help you, my prince. I simply agreed to your tactics. I know the men would've come up with something like it if we should've sat down for a long, gruelling meeting, but it would've taken more than a couple of hours. So I thought it smarter to come to you straight away."
"Clever." Kell smiled crookedly.
"Not as clever as you. You came up with it all on your own and quickly too. Seems to me tactics comes naturally to you, my prince." Rión bowed his head and left with those words hanging in the air.
Kell sucked them in with a deep breath and let the smile spread full out. Flattery from the high commander was as rare as it was well earned and Kell knew it was the truth when it came from Rión.
* * * * * * * *
Aron came back to their small camp with news of the enemy movement that put a heavy blanket of silence over the otherwise talkative sorcerers. They all knew they'd be a part of the coming battles and although they all possessed great powers, they were reluctant to use them for such violence.
"Four of us have been assigned to go north and four south to aid the troops while one is to stay here to help defend main camp."
"North and south?" Piotry asked. "Isn't Iloron advancing from the west? When they attack main camp one of us isn't going to be enough if they have sorcerers in their midst."
Aron shrugged. "I didn't see it fit to ask questions when it was the high commander himself that gave me the orders. I'm sure they have it all under control. They'll ask for our advice when they need it."
"So, who'll go where?"
"When do we leave?" asked the brothers Sernan and Thomy at the same time.
Aron held up a hand to silence them. "I want you to stay here, Thomy," he raised his hand again when it seemed the blond brother would argue. "You are strong both with offensive and defensive spells as well as healing. You are best suited to remain here."
Thomy's mouth set in a thin, unhappy line, neither of the two brothers were keen on being separated from the other, but he nodded consent.
"Sernan, Piotry and Will are going up north with me, and Henron will go south with Aidon, Juilin and Kareth. We leave tomorrow at daybreak."
Piotry gave Will a pat on the back that broke the blank stare he had fallen into at Aron's words. "Seems you'll see battle rather soon, young Will De'Noa."
"Um, well, yes," was all he could manage.
"Don't worry, we'll look after you."
"I want you and Will on medical duty to see to the wounded, Piotry," Aron broke in. "I and Sernan will aid the troops."
Piotry gave him a short, approving nod and gave Will's shoulder an encouraging squeeze.
* * * * * * * *
Will couldn't sleep that night, and especially not since Piotry's rumbling snores told him the redheaded sorcerer was fast asleep in his blankets. Not even easy rest would settle down over him. After having tormented himself enough with tossing about under his blanket, he rose and slipped out of the tent they shared on feet that wouldn't even have disturbed a sleeping mouse, let alone Piotry.
He made his way between the tents and soon got to the edge of their camp. He had no specific direction in mind; just that walking and the fresh air would do him good. There were few men about this time of night and those who were hesitated to stop and ask the sorcerer where he was going. Will supposed being dressed in the customary sorcerer's grey coat and breeches had some benefit in a camp like this, he wanted to be left alone and so he was.
In the distance he could see the picket lines and rows of horses, and headed that way. Not that he had ever ridden a horse or even liked being around them very much, but there was a calming presence about the animals that would help settle his nerves.
A large head lifted when he approached and a curious, soft nose sniffed at his outstretched hand. The gelding sighed deeply and Will scratched the wide forehead. He let his mind go still and banished all the rushing thoughts to fall into a state of awareness alike to meditation.
~I thought you'd never settle down enough to let me in, Will,~ murmured Ashiná's deep voice within him and he started a bit at the sudden sound.
The horses closest to him pricked their ears at him and then suddenly snorted wildly. They pressed their ears back close to their heads, eyes white rimmed and rolling, and tried to break free of their fetters to get away from him. Will took a startled step back and hesitantly raised his hand to calm the animals, but they shied away from the gesture and he stilled where he stood as not to scare them even more. What should he do?
~It is I, Will. They sense my presence. Back away from them and they'll calm down.~
Will followed Ashiná's orders without hesitating or questioning them and soon enough the animals calmed down, though they still kept a wary eye on him.
~What happened?~ he asked.
~They sensed me.~
~And? You're a spirit guardian, they shouldn't be afraid of you.~
~I am a tiger spirit, now, aren't I? They will always fear a predator, Will. Spirit or not.~
Will pondered that. ~I suppose so.~
~Someone nears,~ Ashiná warned then.
Will never got a chance to ask her who before a cultivated, mellow voice broke the silence.
"Are you scaring the horses?"
Will spun around in time to see a young man walk towards him down the line of animals, giving a comforting pet here and there to heads reaching out towards him.
"I didn't mean to, sir." Will studied the man with sorcerer's sight piercing the dark and realized it was the young blond he had seen in the commanders' tent earlier that day. He still wore the same dark blue surcoat, but the sword was gone and his hair was loosely tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.
"Then what were you doing?" he demanded with authority in his voice.
Will met deep blue eyes and had to swallow before he could answer. "I couldn't sleep, sir, and the presence of the horses is calming."
The man nodded. "That it is," he agreed.
"But I'm afraid my spirit guardian scared them."
The blond tilted his head, curious now. "And what kind of guardian would do that?"
Will just stared back. Sorcerers never told even each other who their guardians were unless they were really close confidantes, he wasn't about to tell this stranger. Even when those eyes searched out and found his.
Then young man smiled then, a flash of perfect white teeth in the dark. "I apologise. I should know better than to ask a sorcerer about his guardian. I've been around them long enough to know that much at least." He strode closer and stopped only feet away from Will. "I don't recognise you. Are you new in camp, sorcerer?"
Will wetted his suddenly dry lips. "Yes, sir. I arrived only this day."
"That explains it then. Are you in Aron's or Henron's camp?"
"Aron's, sir."
"Ah. He and the others are taking care of you, I hope? Otherwise I shall have a word with them."
"We're becoming good friends, sir."
The blond nodded absently and studied him a bit closer. "You were the young man in the tent, then?" he asked slowly as if he just remembered that brief glance they had shared.
"Yes, sir."
"Hmm. Never thought I'd see a sorcerer so young. How old are you? Eighteen?"
Will couldn't help sighing. "I'm twenty-one, sir."
An eyebrow arched at that. "Three years younger than I," the other man mumbled.
"Not all sorcerers are as old and grey as Aron, sir." Will smiled despite his slight irritation at the constant wrong guessing of his age.
"Of course not."
There was a moment of awkward silence when Will found himself studied and gauged. He felt just a bit uneasy under the intense, blue gaze of what surely was one of his commanders, though he couldn't tell what rank the man held since there weren't any markings on his surcoat.
"Well," the man said finally. "I should get back to my own sleep deprived blankets. I suggest you do the same. You're marching out tomorrow, I assume?"
"Yes, sir. I'm going north with Aron, Piotry and Sernan. Thomy's staying here and Henron is going south with the others."
"Yes. Good grouping of Aron, there, I must say. Perhaps we'll run into each other on the road, then."
Will stared. "Um, yes, sir."
"Good night, sorcerer." The blond turned and left.
"Good night, sir," Will echoed after him as he disappeared among the darker shadows of the camp.
Ashiná laughed within him when they were alone again.
~What's so funny?~ Will grumbled at her.
~You should blink before your eyes fall out.~
Will blinked without thinking about it and his guardian laughed again. ~I was not staring!~ he insisted resolutely.
Ashiná just sighed and he could almost feel the wide smile on her ethereal face.
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