Part One: Kisla’s Apprentice
Night fell over the small town of Dragonglory. The small thatch-covered huts sank into darkness. All the huts… except for one. An exhausted cry pierced the peaceful evening, followed by a younger, weaker bawl. Kisla, wife of Myrak the Magician, had borne a baby.
Myrak, a man in his early forties, rushed into the bedroom, where the elderly midwife was deftly cleaning the infant. After receiving a nod that the baby was okay, Myrak rushed to his wife, who was drenched in sweat, and breathing slowly. Her pure white hair was plastered to her face and neck, and her eyes fluttered with both excitement and fatigue. Myrak stroked his wife’s head lovingly, and turned to Shusai, the midwife, and his newborn son.
*****
Dragonglory was a small village in a forested countryside, along the Deathbane river, with the thick Xammas forest to its south. It was mostly self sufficient, except for a few delicacies that came every two months on a trade caravan from its closest neighbor - Arden, which was a comfortable three day horse ride away. Dragonglory had a population of about three hundred, so almost everyone knew almost everyone.
Myrak the Magician and Kisla having a baby was no small affair. Myrak was greatly respected in Dragonglory, and Kisla was well-loved by the entire village. They were a greatly mismatched couple - a forty-two year old magician, with short black hair, streaked with gray, with pale skin, and a thirty-five year old “retired” adventuress, with solid white, wavy hair, and darkly tanned skin, who stood the same height as her husband, if not taller. But they were both kind-hearted and friendly, so when news got around Dragonglory that they were the proud parents of a healthy baby boy, there was a huge baby shower thrown for them.
Shusai the midwife hovered around Kisla, observing the boy for anything wrong. She was the baby’s guardian, therefore very protective. She babbled to Kisla about steam vapor being good for its sinuses, and how the baby being born in the spring was good luck, but under the Dark King’s Moon was a bad omen. Myrak and Kisla laughed at Shusai’s superstitions, and shrugged them off. Myrak cast and conjured his illusionary spells to the delight of the village. And the celebration of the birth of Daius, son of Myrak and Kisla continued.
*****
He was adorable for his young age of seven, and well loved, just like his parents. Soon, Kisla had begun adventuring again, escorting caravans to Arden, and mapping the forests for the villagers. And Myrak traveled between Arden and Dragonglory, and even to Wraith, Arden’s neighboring city, to perform his illusions. So Daius didn’t see much of his adoring parents, and was cared for mostly by seventy-one year old Shusai. Shusai was more a homebody than a midwife, and kept Daius out of trouble.
“Husa?” Daius said, entering his family’s hut. “Husa” was Daius’s term of endearment for Shusai.
“Yes, Spider-chan?”
Daius scowled. “You know I don’t like to be called that, Husa.”
Shusai stuck her lively, shrunken face around a corner. “And, I don’t like you calling me Husa, Spider-chan. We’re even.”
Daius had always played with spiders since he was four, so “Spider-chan” was his nickname around the house. Daius crossed his arms and scowled more. “So?” he said indignantly.
“Don’t wrinkle your cute face like that, Spider-chan. It might get stuck that way!” Shusai said in a laughing tone. Her pre-wrinkled smile made Daius laugh. He never stayed mad for long.
“Like I was saying, Husa, are we going to Arden to see Dad perform?”
Shusai laughed, and nodded. “Your mother will take us there herself.”
“Mom? She’s here?”
As if on cue, Kisla entered the hut, suited up in form fitting leather armor, her face painted with green and tan facepaints. In her hand was a small sack.
“Kisla!” Shusai said happily as she hobbled over to the woman.
“Shusai, how nice to see you! Now, where’s my son?” Kisla said smiling. Daius bolted to his mother and jumped in her arms.
“Momma!” he said, hugging her tightly.
“Sorry I’ve been gone so long, Daius. But there’s delay after delay, and pirate attack after pirate attack…”
“So, are we going to Arden?” Daius asked excitedly.
Kisla nodded. “But first, let me see my Daius.” She pushed her son away from her. After a quick once-over, she said to him, “You’ve grown so big! And your hair… just like mine. Myrak keeps saying it’ll go black. And I say to him ‘You’re wrong Myrak, for you see, Daius is my son! Not yours!’”
Daius laughed with his mother. “When do we leave?” he asked.
Shusai laughed. “So anxious are you to leave Dragonglory, Spider-chan. Don’t worry. Arden will be there tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!” Daius whined. “Yes, tomorrow, Spider-chan. Let your mother see her beloved town!”
“But I want to see Dad!”
“All in good time, my Daius. But first, let us look at my surprises.”
“GIFTS!” Daius’s misfortune was washed away as Kisla opened her sack. Out of it came spices, angora and chenille yarn for Shusai, and a jeweled dagger for Daius.
Daius squealed in delight. Carved into the hilt was a tarantula, with rubies for eyes, and the un-marked part of the hilt was studded in sapphires, garnets, and emeralds. The blade itself was made of finely tempered steel, the sheath of smooth, unadorned leather. He glanced back at his mother in thanks, then started to examine it.
“It is a wonderful gift, Kisla. But, I am wondering, what ever gave you the idea of giving Spider-chan a dagger? Hurt himself with it, he will,” Shusai commented quietly, so not to rain on Daius’s parade.
“I received, and knew how to use, my first crossbow at five, my first sword at eight. Daius is clever and athletic, and he is already seven. I think he can handle a pretty dagger.”
“Smart, that he is. But now, more concentrated on impressing girls, he is. If not now, he will be. His mind will not be on where he is, and what he is doing. Hurt himself, he will.”
“I will talk to him, Shusai.”
“Thank you, I do, Kisla.”
“Daius?” Kisla said, approaching her son.
“Yeah, Momma?”
“Let’s go into the forest, and I’ll teach you how to use that dagger of yours,” Kisla said with a wink.
“All right!” Daius said, slipping the dagger into the sheath which he had strung on his black leather belt. He ran over to his coat and almost tore it apart in excitement.
Mother and son walked out of the house, with Shusai cursing quietly when she realized that Kisla had tricked her.
The walk to the forest was pleasant. Kisla and Daius caught up, which meant Kisla bragged about her adventures, and Daius gave her Dragonglory gossip. When they reached the thick border of the Xammas forest, Kisla stopped Daius with a gesture of her hand. “Daius, this is Xammas forest. It’s very immense, and houses many mysteries. As an adventurer, I want to uncover these mysteries. Understand?”
Daius nodded slowly. “But Momm--”
“Daius, the forest is alive. All of it. It is full of magic. That’s why the Xammas forest is so different from our closer forests. Xammas is the site of shrines to forgotten gods. It is the home for hamadryads, nymphs, sprites, and fauns. You will hurt nothing in the forest that you didn’t bring into it, you hear me? Not even the trees. The trees are the most important of all.”
“Yes, Momma.”
“Daius, I’m not joking.” Kisla turned to Daius, a strange, almost frightening look on her face. “The forest will know and remember you. Make a good impression. You are my son. It will give you a chance.”
Daius, scared now of his mother, nodded, the message “The forest will know and remember you,” echoing in his head. He tossed his shoulder-length white hair back and said, “I understand mother. I will not let you down. I promise.”
Kisla’s face turned back into the crooked smiling, twinkling, sunshine filled face it always was. “Good. Now, let’s go exploring.”
“But, I thought we were going to practice!”
“Daius, what sounds better to you. Practicing for hours, or exploring the mysterious Xammas forest for dryads?”
Daius’s seven year old face broke into a smile. “Dryads,” he said skipping up alongside his mother. The forest, as it always was in spring, was shady, but full of life. Kisla and Daius hiked on hidden paths, for what seemed like hours, Kisla telling Daius what she had been doing since the last time they had been together. Kisla told magnificent stories about swimming alongside beautiful fish, and finding caves along lake borders. They came to a clearing.
“Oh! Do you see them, Daius?” Kisla asked in rapture.
“See what?” Daius asked back, somewhat rudely.
“The dryads. This is a grove of dryad trees. They live with their tree, in sync with the forest and with the pulse of the Earth.”
“I don’t see a thing.” Kisla looked at her son and smiled. Then, to Daius’s surprise, she opened her mouth and began to sing in a clear, lovely voice.
When the night falls
The dance begins
Slowly at first
Under the stars
And the moon glows
The light playing music
Ravishing music
The dance comes alive
And the forest sings
And the Earth shines
Making existence
Finally live
Then the seed is planted
The legacy goes on
Love is born tonight.
“Momma, that was--”
“Hush, my son.”
And Daius watched in wonder as, little by little, dryads, about his size, walked from out of nowhere into the clearing. Their beauty was exquisite, both males and females, clad in sparkling, however scanty, green and teal outfits. The women wore halter tops and short skirts, the men wore shorts.
“They’re gorgeous,” Daius said breathlessly.
“They are always here, Daius. Always.”
The dryads stared at Kisla, then nodded, recognizing her. One small female fluttered up to Kisla. Daius could not hear her, but could hear his mother’s answer, “My son.”
The dryads swarmed around him, touching his hair, holding his hands, observing him in excitement. “What are they doing, Momma?” Daius struggled to ask from the midst of the dryads.
Kisla laughed. “I am their friend, and you are my son.”
Soon, the dryad crowd dispersed, and Daius brushed himself off. “They’re wonderful, Momma.”
“And those are only the children, the adults take your breath away. But, let’s keep going, shall we?”
Daius nodded, and followed after the swift Kisla.
About an hour later, Kisla slowed, scrutinizing the trees around her. She ran her hands over one’s bark, as is feeling for something. Suddenly, she smiled, and continued walking. Daius, as usual, was curious. “Mom? What was that?”
Kisla grinned and looked down at him. “That is a spider tree. I was feeling for its mark.”
Daius looked even more puzzled. “There’s no such thing as a spider tree. Besides, they don’t call me ‘Spider-chan’ for nothing. I would know if that was an alleged spider tree. And what is a mark?”
Kisla knelt down and motioned Daius closer. Daius stood, now only an inch taller than his mother. Kisla’s tanned hand ran over the bark. Upon finding what she wanted, she said, “All trees have magic. This tree is a spider tree because it chooses to be a spider tree. Feel the bark, Daius.”
Daius rested his hand on the bark, feeling its coarse texture. His mother guided his hand and he jumped. He felt life in the tree. Staring at the bark, he could see spiders in the bark, little subtleties in the wood. “Where are we going, Mom?”
“To a shrine I found in these woods. It’s a shrine to the ancient warrior Narcissia.”
“A shrine to a woman?” Daius asked, incredulous.
Kisla laughed, allowing Daius’s naiveté to pass. “Yes. Narcissia was very beautiful, some believed she was part dryad, but very easily fooled. She followed the Dark King, believing his promises of power and immortality. Narcissia was corrupted by the Dark King, and eventually by herself, letting her evil flame burn.”
Fascinated, Daius asked, “Why is there a shrine to her, if she was so evil?”
Kisla, warming up to her audience, continued with the story. “As you know, Daius, all things that burn eventually burn out, except for eternal flames. Evil is never an eternal flame, Daius, unless you are the Dark King himself. Anyway, Narcissia’s flame burned for a century, her evil growing each day, until she met a man, Cecil. He loved her, and cared for her, determined to turn her to the side of good. He helped her foster her power, illusionary magic, of higher caliber than your father, and made her aware of her deception. She left the Dark King, to lead a life of happiness with Cecil, protecting our world.”
Daius smiled, envisioning a ravishing woman, and a handsome man, fighting the demons of the Dark King. He drew his dagger and began pantomiming the battles. Kisla patted him on the shoulder, breaking him from his daydream, and they continued to walk. An extremely small, black and white marble temple appeared out of nowhere.
Kisla bowed her head in silent prayer, and Daius mimicked her. He mumbled, “Narcissia, I hear you are a great warrior, with special powers. How I wish you were still alive to teach me!”
Entering the temple, there was no furniture, just a black marble room, with a sparkling altar in the middle. Cobwebs layered the place, but nonetheless, it was incredible. Kisla pulled a nicely crafted, thin, expensive looking sword out of her pack, and laid it reverently on the altar. Daius looked around for something to offer to Narcissia’s memory. Finding nothing, but his dagger, he reached into his pocket and pulled out one of Shusai’s homemade lemon candies. “Enjoy it, Narcissia. They seem to last forever!”
Kisla and Daius camped a few meters behind the shrine. After a few hours of practice and lessons with Daius’s dagger, Kisla laid down for sleep, telling Daius to keep watch until she relieved him. Daius, excited to be important, kept an untiring vigil, watching the flames from the fire lick the air above it. Well, almost untiring, since even children get tired. Soon, Daius was fighting to stay awake.
Fighting, until he heard a faint scream from the forest.
Re-energized, Daius grabbed his mother’s torch, and lit it with the campfire. He gathered his gear (canteen and flint), checked his dagger, and headed towards the scream.
Daius stole silently through the forest, following his mother’s tips for stealth. He came upon a clearing.
A thug, armed with an ill-balanced knife, was towering over a young dryad, pulling on her delicate wings, threatening to pull them off. He was unshaven and was obviously overweight. Although Daius wasn’t usually one for heroics, or for risking his life to help others, he suddenly got angry when he saw the man putting the beautiful dryad in pain. Using the water in his canteen, Daius dowsed the torch.
“Let her go,” he said, making his voice sound as ominous as he could.
The thug looked wildly about for the noise, but didn’t loosen his grip on the dryad. Daius flitted from tree to tree, until he was right behind the man. The man was turning around almost desperately, searching for the threat. The dryad was closest to the rapidly dying campfire, trying not to move, or the thug would succeed in ripping her wings. “Who’s there?” the man asked, holding the dryad in one hand, a long, rusted, stiletto blade in the other.
“I said LET HER GO!” Daius jumped onto the thug’s back, scaring him just enough to let the dryad child go free. She fluttered off into the forest.
The man threw Daius off his back, and started to laugh. “A boy? Well, this mistake will be your last!” He lunged at Daius, swiftly for his immense size, but Daius was much more agile, and he dodged each strike easily.
“How could you do that, harming an innocent dryad?” Daius said, making a clumsy slash on the man’s arm. Even though he was inexperienced with any weapon, Daius wielded his dagger with skill, parrying the drunk man’s blows. However, Daius couldn’t actually pin the man down, since that took strength, and Daius was too small to even hope he would win.
He backed away from the thug and sheathed his dagger, planning to escape, now having hurt him. But the man, drunk though he was, had other plans. Daius couldn’t even think of jumping out of the way before the man fleetly scooped up some of the embers from the fire and threw them in Daius’s general direction. Several of them landed in his white hair. A large ember, that Daius didn’t see coming, hit him in the eye.
Daius covered his eye to the extreme pain. He could still feel tiny shards of the ember in his left eye. The man paused over him with his rusty knife to finish the task.
The knife was plunged towards Daius’s heart, but was blocked by a shimmering silver sword. The thug looked up at this new challenge, to see a tall woman, with white hair, like the boy’s. The last thing he saw was the woman’s look of anger, before she ran him through.
“Daius? Daius, are you okay?” Kisla asked, kneeling by her son and cradling his head.
“My eye, Momma. It hurts.”
“Open your eye, Daius, so I can look.”
Daius pried his eye open with his fingers, since his eyelids were reflexively clamped shut. Out of his one good eye he saw Kisla’s look of dismay. “Daius… here,” she said softly, taking a small bandanna and wetting it with the remaining water in Daius’s canteen. She put the folded cloth over his eye.
“The cold helps it, Mom.”
“I know, Daius.” Kisla took a thin piece of white string from the lower hem of her tunic, and tied it around Daius’s head, making a makeshift eyepatch.
“How did you know I was here?” Daius asked, sitting up.
“The dryad you saved told me. She told me that ‘my young apprentice’ was in danger.”
“Your apprentice? I’m not your apprentice, Momma!”
Kisla laughed. “Dryads, such as that one, has little or no connection with the outside world. In dryad civilization each child is everyone’s child, so she did not understand my protectiveness towards you. She thought that I owned you, that you were a contracted apprentice.”
Daius smiled wearily. He knew from his mother’s tone that he would never be able to use his eye again. His mother had no idea how well he knew her. But, for Kisla’s happiness, he hid his awareness with naive and innocent smiles. Daius had so wanted to make his mother proud of him. And he would, by showing that this weakness wasn’t a weakness at all, just a minor setback that he, as a young warrior would overcome. After all, he couldn’t be too perfect, could he?