The Way of the Shadow Blade: Prologue

The Way of the Shadow Blade: Prologue

The Way of the Shadow Blade


Prologue

They had brought Ruhanna to the Keep under the veil of a black night without moon or stars. The father, the famous mage Sherenaan qos Tanar, feared more and more that his treacherous brother Arenak would steal the girl and through a torturous spell deprive her of all independent will. For as powerful as ordinary mages were, Ruhanna was the daughter of both male and female mages, which gave her a rare sort of potential--the kind that could be bent towards horrific destruction if Sherenaan's fraternal twin achieved his aims. After months of constant running, Sherenaan and his wife Alixis of Merinsaut reluctantly concluded that for Ruhanna's sake, there was no choice but to place the four-year-old girl under the care of the most powerful warriors in all the nations of Erekjaht: the Order of Guardians.

A large contingent of the mystical Guardians dwelt within Erchandemur Keep, though largely unknown to those residing outside of the Keep itself; it was to them that Sherenaan would present his desperate petition. The night sentry standing guard at the entrance to the Keep with sword at his side and pike in hand questioned the mages sharply upon their arrival. When Sherenaan explained that it was the Elder Michael whom they had come to visit, the sentry urgently summoned his comrades, who surrounded the family and tied their horses out of reach while a runner was sent inside to consult with the Guardians.

Sherenaan then spread wide his arms, giving the guards a clear view of his empty hands and the single dagger he wore at his side underneath his cloak. "I offer my life as surety for us both," he gravely declared. Although Alixis was sworn just as he was to use her powers to attack only when threatened, in these dangerous times he well knew that the royal guard had every reason to be wary. In the past, an Aramansch mage who had taken the oath of submission received the Mark--a ceremonial piercing to the right nostril as a way to demonstrate identity and integrity to the community. This decorative sign had once been recognized with celebration, but as the more dishonorable sort of mage had gained superiority in numbers, those who had gone through the great ceremony began to be slaughtered in their sleep. By the generation of Ruhanna's grandparents, it was a rare white-mage who bore the Mark.

The ranking sentry slowly approached Sherenaan, his comrades' attention glued to the mage's hands, ears peeled for any whispered incantation. Just barely within arm's length of Sherenaan, the sentry took hold of the exposed dagger and slid it out of its leather scabbard. After the guard had taken a few steps back, Sherenaan softly whispered, "Please, at least do this out of the child's view."

"As he says," the sentry curtly commanded. Two of the soldiers closed ranks behind Sherenaan, obscuring Ruhanna's line of sight; Alixis sought desperately to keep her daughter's attention away from the sight and the girl's unusual silence gave Alixis little clue as to whether or not she had succeeded.

Now disarmed, Sherenaan carefully sat upon the ground, cross-legged, mourning that it had come to this with his father's generation. Without the assurance of honor understood from the Mark, even a mage who declared himself for what he was could expect to be treated with caution if he arrived unannounced--all the more so in the depths of the night. The sentry took Sherenaan's own dagger and placed its sharp edge against the mage's throat; if either he or Alixis made use of their magic, Sherenaan's life was forfeit. In this pose they remained fixed for what Sherenaan judged to be twenty minutes, even though it felt as if years elapsed between each beat of his racing heart. As soon as word arrived that the Elder Guardian wished to receive Sherenaan and Alixis, the royal guards withdrew with rapidly-mumbled apologies and bade the mages to proceed; they well knew it would have been an act of utter lunacy to enter such a large enclave of Guardians against their wishes. If the Guardians became suspicious, they could put an end to any trouble very quickly.

All Ruhanna understood was that she was in great danger--and worse, that her parents were preparing to leave her. The only sound that alerted her to the approach of the Guardians from inside the great fortress was the light sound of their bare feet upon stone. Then in the dim glow of the hallway torches she beheld three white-robed, blindfolded men approaching with sure, steady steps, their swords drawn, but despite herself she did not cry out lest she attract their notice. She had seen strange things in her parents' work...but this simply made no sense.

"Elder," said her father in a level tone, completely at ease in these strange circumstances, "I've come to make a very serious request of you...I would never ask except that the situation has become dire."

The lead Guardian reached out and unerringly clasped her father's shoulder. "With your permission, Sherenaan..."

"Very well."

The white-haired Guardian touched the tips of his fingers to the side of Sherenaan's neck, the movement purposeful but lacking the deadly forcefulness of the sentry. After barely a second, his wary demeanor shifted completely. "My dear Sherenaan--it is you!" he cried out with undisguised joy. "We very highly doubt he could deceive us, but it was necessary to check for your scar." While Sherenaan and Arenak would never have been mistaken on sight for identical twins, the brothers had been said in the days of their youth to speak with nearly the same voice and thus even in Alixis' presence the Elder dared not omit this tactile confirmation. "You have to understand, we've heard rumors that your twin is trying to follow you here; you'll need to make best speed on your way out lest he realize when and where you stopped. I'm sorry if we've upset the little one," he remarked as he sheathed his sword, the other two following suit as soon as they heard the sound of the first blade slipping into its scabbard.

Ruhanna's breath caught. How could they have known? None of them could see...yet the Elder Guardian approached her as if he could see her perfectly. Suddenly he knelt down, pushing the tip of his scabbard back as he went to his knees. "You've nothing to fear," he said with a low voice and a smile. "Come and put your hand in mine. I won't do anything, I promise..."

Ruhanna realized that the Elder Guardian's soft, kindly voice reminded her very much of her sainted maternal grandfather, and she cautiously drew closer--but well beyond arm's length. "Go on, Ruhanna," whispered her father, his voice choking with tears. "I trust Michael with my life...and..." The great mage could not finish his sentence. He stepped to the side to speak softly with the two younger Guardians as Ruhanna watched out of the corner of her eye. One of them took from Sherenaan a satchel that she realized contained her few belongings from those awful months on the run.

"My apologies about the swords, Ruhanna," said the Elder Guardian. "There are some bad people after your family, and I had to be sure of who I was talking to." Finally she was close enough to take stock of the older man knelt before her. In spite of the white cloth hiding his eyes from view, he seemed as though he were watching her. While that was disconcerting, she realized that his visible features were really quite gentle. There was a striking, childlike honesty about his unguarded expression that coupled with the extraordinary wisdom in his voice inspired confidence in Ruhanna far beyond the reach of her conscious mind. Rue reached out and gingerly placed her hand in his. "There you are, dear!" he grinned, delicately shaking the proffered hand as though receiving a royal dignitary. "You can call me Grandfather Michael, or just Grandfather, if you like. So...how old are you, Ruhanna?"

"I'm five," she replied softly, inflating her age in the heat of the moment.

"...wants her too badly; we just can't keep her safe anymore. God, I hate to do this to you, Thorn...it breaks my heart," mumbled Sherenaan. Ruhanna glanced back and saw her mother weeping. She burst into tears herself; the Elder Guardian pulled the girl close, knowing exactly what she had heard.

Gently stroking her hair as she buried her face in his soft robe, he said, "I'm so, so sorry this had to happen, Ruhanna...don't you ever forget, your parents love you very much. They want you to grow up somewhere safe...I have been a friend of his for many years, and believe me, I know how much he cares..." She sobbed uncontrollably and he began to hum a sweet, soft, wordless tune. For a moment, she very nearly forgot that this was not her mother's father, but rather the sightless, incredibly perceptive Elder Guardian...Grandfather Michael?

"...it's done, then." Sherenaan's words dropped like a sword blade...Ruhanna knew then that there would be no return for a very long time. Grandfather Michael expertly picked up his new charge, cradling her in his arms as he strode over towards her parents. "Ruhanna...oh, Rue, I'm so sorry, Mama and I are both so sorry...but this is the only way to keep Arenak away from you. Michael is a very, very good man, and he'll do so much for you..."

"Daddy?" Ruhanna gasped through tears. "Will you come back? Ever?"

"Oh, God...I hope so, Rue. Mama and I have something we have to do before it's safe, and I don't know how long that will take--but we'll do our best. I promise with all my heart. Until then...will you be good for Grandfather Michael?"

Ruhanna nodded.

"Could you tell him that?" Sherenaan prompted. Rue suddenly remembered his blindness as she whispered to him that she would.

Daughter and parents then said their mournful goodbyes. Grandfather Michael stayed where they were in the passageway until Sherenaan and Alixis were out of sight--and a moment longer until even the sound of their retreating footsteps had receded. Then, with Ruhanna securely tucked in his arms, Grandfather Michael turned towards the deeper passageways within the Keep. The other two Guardians--Thorn and Erik, as she would learn the next day--immediately followed suit and kept pace just slightly behind and to the sides of the Elder.

"Let's find you somewhere to sleep," he whispered softly to the still-weeping child in his arms. Michael contemplated giving Ruhanna over to Erik and his wife, Leah. Perhaps it's best that she have a 'mother' and a 'father' if this is to be a long-term arrangement, he thought. Then Rue shifted in his arms and he instinctively rearranged her weight to allow him to pat the small of her back with one hand. Something ached longingly within him then at the thought of relinquishing the main role in Rue's care, and it echoed across his face with a furrow of the brow. "This has been a long night."



"What are we going to do with her?" Thorn pressed the Elder Guardian after Ruhanna had been put to bed in the quarters of Erik and his wife for the night until a child's bed could be moved into Michael's quarters. There the girl had immediately drifted off from sheer exhaustion and heartbreak.

"Her parents might come back soon," Erik offered hopefully. Erik had one of those deep voices from which it often seemed laughter wished to bubble up--but right now his tone was unusually serious. "With luck, being freed from the burden of a child will let Sherenaan and Alixis turn and take Arenak."

"I wouldn't count on that," retorted Thorn. Tall, powerfully-built, and with a loud, sharp voice, Thorn was among the most imposing of the Guardians and one of their most talented strategists, perhaps even exceeding the eminent Elder Guardian Michael himself in that regard. "Arenak is powerful indeed. If anything, Sherenaan's remaining attachments to his twin will make him vulnerable. I'm not sure the two of them can win against him."

"If they fall, the last two mages on our side will be dead," Erik realized.

"And we truly will be the last line of defense, just as it was foretold," Michael said. "We can only pray that this is not the time. In the interim...Ruhanna's care is entrusted to me. And here is my suggestion: I'd like to begin her in the early instruction. She is the daughter of mages, and she needs a direction for her inherent power, especially at a time like this." Indeed, mage-children, even those never trained to release their powers, tended towards exceptional ability in one way or another--such prowess could be physical, intellectual, artistic, or any combination of the three. Without magic as a release, dangerous restlessness or depression often set in depending on the child's temperament, if he or she was not vigorously challenged in other ways.

Thorn made a low noise of disapproval. "I appreciate that, Elder, but you know very well what it could mean if she reaches the age of initiation with us. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"There is no easy solution to this," Michael acknowledged, "though as always, your candor honors me."

"I suggest we offer her a second route," Erik interjected. "Perhaps Zarine could teach her the healing arts. But with luck, she'll never need to choose."

"But if she does--then there is something for her to do if the Spirit leads her away from the path of initiation. That's the least we can do. Thank you, Erik...I'll speak to Zarine tomorrow and see what I can arrange." Michael paused for a moment. "Does that meet with your approval, Thorn?"

"It does..." he said, but his reluctance was plain. "Pray for the girl," he intoned, the declaration very nearly a command.

Michael assented. "Lead us, Thorn." All three senior Guardians knelt in their meeting room as the strategist began a long series of blessings and pleas for the sake of Ruhanna and her beleaguered parents--the chief among them being, "Return Sherenaan and Alixis safely here...soon."