The Way of the Shadow Blade, Chapter VI: Kestrel

The Way of the Shadow Blade, Chapter VI: Kestrel

Ruhanna's world at the moment consisted of the wooden quarterstaff in her hands, the floor under her feet, and the slightest sounds made by her opponent and instructor. She and Fennis circled around each other trying to sense each other's intentions. The young Guardian held the advantage over her, so she decided this time she would force him to betray his plans first. An indrawn breath from Fennis--a backward slide of callused feet on the floor--Ruhanna lunged forward, staff at the ready, anticipating contact--

"Halt!" called Erik.

Rue fought to rebalance and come to an immediate stop, but still made contact with Fennis' body. "Oof...sorry!" she whispered, as Fennis took her by the arms and helped her steady herself. They set the ends of their staves on the floor just in front of their feet, turning to face the lead combat instructor.

Kirian's voice came from the entrance to the Great Hall. "Ruhanna--I need you right away; someone's hurt!"

Sharply yanking her blindfold over her forehead, Rue ran forward to follow Kirian. The lady Guardian's robe showed signs of wear consistent with a very rough fieldcraft exercise--or more likely, true battle. "Set him down!" Kirian yelled ahead of her. "I found Ruhanna!"

"What...?" Rue sputtered...then caught sight of Alleric, the Guardian who had taught her own sparring instructor, struggling to hold in a cry of pain. Both of his legs bent in unnatural ways. "Oh my God," Rue gasped. "When did this happen? And where's--"

"We don't know where Zarine is," Kirian cut in. "Probably out tending to a patient. Ludovico's gone after her. This happened early this morning--I need your help to set the bones!"

"All right..." Rue murmured as she scanned Alleric for other wounds and tried to assess the locations and types of breaks in his legs. Fortunately for Alleric there were no breaks in the skin around the injuries...that, with luck, would reduce the chances of infection. "This won't be any fun," she warned the injured Guardian. "The swelling is severe." Taking Kirian by the wrist, she directed her to hold Alleric down, and then instructed Richard to take Alleric's hand, to give him some sort of comfort...but more than that, somewhere to vent the pain.

"Fine--I don't care--just do it!" Alleric grunted in a stifled shout. Until Zarine arrived with Ludovico to take over, Ruhanna worked quickly and efficiently...yet mechanically to a degree that disturbed her even in the moment; she was utterly confused as to what was wrong with her.




"I feel good about helping Alleric," Rue stammered to Grandfather Michael that evening, choking back tears. "That's not it...I mean, I was glad to do something for him...and glad that I knew how--Zarine said I did everything right. But something feels wrong!"

Gently, Grandfather Michael asked, "Has this got to do with just today--or is there something else?"

Feeling desperate, trapped, her voice escaped as a near-whisper: "I'm not a healer! I mean, I don't mind it, and I can do it just fine--but I hate knowing someone did that to Alleric, and yes, it was good to help him, but I don't want to be someone who waits at the rear while terrible things happen to the people I care about! I don't want a whole life...of what just happened today!"

"You may see people hurting again, Rue," he warned, "no matter what it is you choose to do with your life. Pain is part of the nature of this world--it's unavoidable."

"I know," Rue sobbed, tears now flowing unchecked, "I know, but I want to try and stop those things, to be there...at least then, even if it still happens, I know I've done all I could..."

Grandfather Michael's expression grew serious, although he could not yet reveal the cause to Ruhanna. What he had been almost certain of before was true: it was not Sherenaan's even temperament that Rue had inherited, nor that of softspoken Alixis, but rather the fiery soul of a warrior...a soul that resembled, more than anything, that of her uncle Arenak the way Sherenaan remembered his twin in their innocent days before the powerlust had devoured Arenak alive. Grandfather Michael dared not voice such a connection, for Rue most certainly had a much stronger conscience and sense of empathy than the twisted blood-mage, but he understood that the time had most certainly come, that very soon she would have to understand her possible futures.



Thorn's triad--thankfully uninjured, but bearing ominous news--had returned late in the same night, immediately summoning Michael, Erik, and Tamros the scribe, to whom Thorn handed Sherenaan's locket. Thorn outlined the triad's findings, often repeating snippets of conversation verbatim. The note, said Tamros, described an enchanted jewel known as a benodkuest, or life-stone, upon which Sherenaan and Alixis had placed a spell that caused it to resonate with the distant emanations of their mortal life-force. Upon the couple's death, the jewel would have gone from its ruby appearance to that of its true nature...a simple piece of quartz. The life-stone, Tamros concluded, was in the possession of King Juran, master of the Erchandemur Keep at which the Guardians resided.

It did not take long for the king to be summoned even at such a late hour. Immediately there came a flurry of activity as Juran, well aware of the situation's urgency, ordered his courtiers and pages to locate the life-stone, which he'd had set into a ring, unaware of its unique properties. Those remaining behind spoke little, for each had inwardly begun preparing himself for the worst; the circumstances of the couple's disappearance, combined with the blood-mage activity in Angekmaer, were not encouraging. Each reinforced the likelihood of the other, and the implications were potentially disastrous.

The Guardians turned first towards the sound of harried footfalls--following their lead, King Juran and the scribe glanced up at the entrance to see a breathless page running into the room, gasping out, "I give you my word, Your Highness, I did nothing to it--I haven't any idea how this happened, I promise...!"

The king held out his hand and the trembling page let fall the ring...a beautifully-engraved golden band which now held an unmasked stone of white quartz. At first Juran had no words to say. Then he told the page, "Anders...I know you had nothing to do with this...circumstance; calm yourself. None of my servants are at fault here. I thank you for your promptness; you have served well tonight. We'll discuss your reward tomorrow." Gently dismissing the boy, he turned towards the Guardians, his movements wooden and slow, saying simply, "They are dead."

Michael's mind protested fiercely--they could not have failed, not with the thought of their daughter safe at Erchandemur Keep, they had to have fabricated the story of travel to Angekmaer as a way to disappear and go into hiding; they were survivors, above all, who defied overwhelming odds time and time again...or perhaps, for all he knew, the two possible colors were similar to each other and Juran was mistaken...

The Elder Guardian's shoulders sagged; tears stung at his eyes. Thorn clutched for dear life at Michael's arm with a grief-stricken, clawlike grip that in his distress he couldn't have realized was painful. Michael said nothing, knowing the strategist's anguish. For his part, Michael decided that after Ruhanna's upset earlier in the evening, he would allow her a full night's rest before breaking the horrible news--though he knew quite well that it would almost certainly cost him all sleep to stay silent.

Not long after Ruhanna woke the next morning, she was weeping in his arms much like the last day she had seen her parents--ten years ago. Somehow, when she had seen the deep sorrow in his sightless eyes, she had known implicitly what he was about to say. Rue held on tightly as if to relax her embrace meant that he, too, would never return. Grandfather Michael gave up the battle against his own grief-filled tears.



"I think you're right to keep it back for just a little while longer," said Erik. "But not much longer. I'm almost to the end of what I can teach her without her initiation. That is, if she chooses it. And I can tell, two months after, that the grief is still affecting her in training...understandably, mind you."

"I never thought I would be saying this," Thorn said, "but it's possible that could make her more resolute in her choice...from what I know of her in fieldcraft."

"You'd like her to quit and never look back." Erik dropped the statement in a low, flat tone that coming from him, was quite damning. Erik hated losing students more than anything, and just two years prior, one young man had changed his mind at the last moment and chosen against initiation. There had been many personal circumstances behind the sudden resignation, but regardless, it was a matter left silent among Guardians...and most especially around Erik, who had taken the episode as a personal failure despite the others' efforts, especially his wife's, to assure him otherwise.

Thorn sighed, weighing his words carefully. "That has always been my first choice, yes. You know why I say that."

Michael confronted him--his tone level, but pointedly direct nonetheless. "I understand the source of your feelings quite well, Thorn--not as you do, but well enough. But do be honest with me, as you're so good at doing: if she does choose to go forward, in full understanding, how are you going to handle it when she goes through the initiation? Are you going to get in the way of it?"

The strategist's breath caught--he froze entirely and the Elder Guardian realized that had any other man spoken those words...perhaps even Erik...he might have been facing down the very grim prospect of a duel with the deadliest Guardian of their enclave. Thorn's response emerged from between ferociously gritted teeth; Michael knew how much this restraint was costing him. A detached part of him admired it even as he suffered the guilt for so provoking his friend and former student. "I will not interfere; you know that very well, Elder, no matter how much it pains me."

"And the initiation rite? Will you participate in it?"

"Not in the rite--I absolutely refuse that...but all else I could do, anything that would help her, I would do without reservation."

"Fair enough," replied Michael. "And my sincere apologies, Thorn." The Elder Guardian wanted very much to ask what Thorn would do if Rue sought his counsel during the advisement period, but that process was so thoroughly sacrosanct that Michael knew he dared not. He had already pushed Thorn too far for one day, and had to trust that his friend would do in those confidential moments as he was sworn to do. "I will speak to the enclave tomorrow and let them know to be ready for the advisement when I make the formal declaration. That I shall do myself, between her and me alone."



Ruhanna had found herself struggling to make sense out of her life from day to say since hearing almost three months ago that her parents were dead. She constantly wondered what had happened--and when...what had driven Arenak (also of her own line!) to murder and fratricide...and why she had not been able until now to sense any indications of their earthly demise, if it had indeed occurred almost two whole years ago as Grandfather Michael had told her the Guardians suspected. Some days she had walked in a haze of darkness that had nothing to do with the blindfold she wore for combat and fieldcraft--on other days she felt a strange sense of a presence, a silent encouragement that seemed to come from the realms beyond human perception.

Kalle, now a full Guardian at almost seventeen years old, had tried his best to support his younger friend, but despite his sincere efforts, Rue could sense that lately he was overcome by his own unspoken troubles. He was not at liberty to discuss the source of his unease, he had said; all he could say was that it fell under the Guardians' sacred oath. Perhaps, Rue concluded, it came from his growing burden of adult responsibilities.

The situation with Zarine had also taken a turn for the worse of late. For a few years, Rue had believed that as she proved herself in more advanced studies of the healing arts, the chief healer would eventually relax. Especially after her crucial success with Alleric, she'd had every expectation that Zarine might begin to show a greater degree of trust, but it hadn't happened. Now things seemed as tense as they'd been three years ago when not only had the two of them had fought over the appropriateness of her sparring outfit, but Zarine had pushed Rue to abandon the aural memorization techniques upon which she had relied to keep track of the various potions and dosages.

Zarine's anger, it seemed, had come from a perception that Rue's reading skills were behind her age level. While Rue had to admit she did struggle at it despite tutoring from Tamros and Leah--she just didn't naturally think that way!--Grandfather Michael had shown unusual annoyance upon hearing that Zarine had tried to undermine the skills he'd spent so long trying to teach her. He had gone to Zarine in private, he'd told Rue later, and warned her to stop undercutting his authority, not only as the Elder Guardian in charge of her education, but also as Rue's adoptive grandfather. Zarine might feel free to suggest additional learning, Michael had said, but to detract from her other studies was inexcusable; in her other classes, where there were no books or notes and some instructors could not or would not give repeats to students whose minds wandered, she needed her ability to memorize what she heard.

Just a few months ago, Zarine had banned Rue altogether from wearing any of her Guardian-student outfits, whether the controversial sparring outfit or her more traditional robe. Too disgusted to muster up a good argument at the moment, Rue had finally begun to seriously consider asking Grandfather Michael for permission to either allow her to learn from another healer, perhaps in the nearby Erchandemur Village (in actuality a fairly large town), or to stop entirely. The whole matter was quite strange to Rue, not to mention frustrating, considering that until three years ago she had never heard of Zarine's behaving in such an outwardly abrasive way. Even now she suspected it was a personal grudge against her. At least old Thorn-in-the-Side had good reason to be strict with his students, given the potential dangers involved in fieldcraft--and he gave everyone some trouble now and again. Zarine, however, enjoyed control for the sake of control, Rue concluded.

Finally, she decided to broach the question with Grandfather Michael--and he warned her that some very serious matters had arisen with regard to her future. At first Rue feared that Zarine had spoken ill of her to Grandfather Michael...but he assured her that was not the case, that she wasn't in any kind of trouble. This was more--it had to do with the possibility of her initiation into the Order of Guardians. "Ruhanna...I promised to tell you about what happens next. This is not easy for me to say, and it will be even harder for you to hear."

For a terrified moment, Rue feared that she had failed. Then she remembered his words, that she had done nothing wrong. He took a deep breath and continued, "As you already know, all who train with the Guardians must decide by their fifteenth birthday if they wish to commit for the rest of their lives to being one of us. This is done because there are certain secrets we can't afford to have in the hands of those who are not fully trained, or whose motives are at all uncertain. The decision is a major one for any candidate because it is a lifelong choice. It requires much advisement, much soul-searching, and above all, deep prayer, to be certain of the calling. Not everyone chooses to proceed."

"What exactly did happen with Lars?" Rue remembered that the young man, the same age as Kalle, had approached his fifteenth birthday and then...had simply disappeared, it seemed, so suddenly had he decided to depart. The Guardians had forbidden discussion of it among the students, but Rue had often wondered what had happened since Lars had left, what he was doing.

"I personally have had no word," said Grandfather Michael, "and as for what happened before--no Guardian may discuss anything that's said in the advisement of a student. That's for your benefit as well as theirs." He paused, expression revealing uncertainty, but then he spoke again. "Here is what I must explain to you, Rue....your decision will be much harder than it is for the vast majority of our students. All of us make sacrifices to take on this life--but if you go through with it...there is a tremendous sacrifice you will have to make. There simply isn't any way around it. We tried long ago to find an easier method, but we learned from that that many of our most crucial techniques can be mastered no other way."

"Oh my God..." By this point, Ruhanna knew exactly what her sacrifice would have to be. The possibility had certainly crossed her mind before, but to hear it confirmed by the one living man in whom her trust was absolute made her gut seize with the uncertainty...anticipation...dread...every emotion all at once. "How?" was all she could whisper.

Grandfather Michael had to be well aware of what Rue's imagination had started doing to her. "Painlessly, with nothing but the passage of time. You simply leave the blindfold on. You need to consider this very carefully, Ruhanna. I know where your passion is, but you have to be sure of your calling, because once you have started, the effects will be physical and they will be irreversible."

"Has anybody else ever done this?"

"Yes," he replied. "Every few generations, there's been a sighted person who has believed so deeply in our cause that he has been willing to go through with it. In two cases, a child followed a parent into the Order. Another followed his twin brother, who had lost his sight to a fever like your friend Kalle. The last one I actually remember from my first years as a student. His chosen name was Kestrel...he originally intended to become an officer in the king's army--he was of noble blood--but in those days the king was leading alseijadkuratik against Istalla for his own personal gain. Kestrel went along with his master and what he saw there--he says the Holy Spirit convicted him with the injustice of it, what they did in God's name in those days. Kestrel asked then to train with the Guardians instead, because we can't be called upon for Crusades. He would never have considered abandoning the warrior's profession altogether...he believed very strongly that to refuse to defend innocents when needed would have been dereliction of duty. He led a good, honorable life, and he was just as capable as any of us. Even in his old age when I knew him, I never heard him express a single regret about what he did. I was told the same thing by those who knew him better. That's how committed you would have to be, because once you start losing your sight, it won't come back.

"You'll have one month to make your decision. That's not intended to make it harder on you--only to ensure that you do choose. You can--and I strongly encourage you to--consult with any initiated Guardian about this, and a few others I'll tell you about. All Guardians are sworn to advise you prayerfully and honestly. They'll give you their truthful feelings, but no matter how strongly they feel, they know the final choice rests between you and God, and they will support you in it. And please, know this...I will be your grandfather always, even if you end your training. You will never lose me and I would love you no less. So knowing that, you need to meditate carefully on this. I'm terribly sorry it couldn't be easier...but you asked earlier about Zarine. Now you should understand why we made sure you trained in two crafts--it was so your choice would be a fair one."