Finding the Faith: Part Two

     “I see that, Danner. Kasen, hold her, she might be like the rest of them.”

     “If she was like the rest of the villagers, sir, why would the Acara have attacked her?”

     “I don’t know, Taegan, but we can’t take any more casualties.”

     A moan escaped my lips, my head felt like it was splitting open from where Toria hit me with a club. My mouth was dry. “Water,” I managed to croak and felt a strong but gentle hand pour cold water down my throat.

     Gradually I became aware that I couldn’t move my arms or legs, to investigate this I opened my violet eyes a crack and saw the blue Lupe kneeling over me, a Draik and a Kougra had my arms pinned firmly but not ungently to the ground. I tried to take my arms out of their grasp but the Lupe warrior restrained me saying in a calm voice, “No, don’t struggle; this is for your protection as much as it is ours.”

     I didn’t feel like responding so I just stared at him. I hoped my eyes could convey what I thought about that statement.

     “Who are you?” he asked gently.

     “Aislin O’Connor,” I whispered. “Please, I didn’t do anything; let me go.” I felt like crying but refused to and merely looked pleadingly at the Lupe. He patted my shoulder reassuringly and began to explain.

     “My name is Jeran Borodere.” He ignored my gasp of surprise. “King Skarl sent me here to investigate some strange events that have been happening. We were trying to evacuate the villagers from the path of Lord Kass’s war machines when they turned on us and attacked us. The only person from the village we’ve been able to find is you. I really am sorry about this,” he gestured a large calloused paw at my restrained arms, “but we didn’t know if you would attack us when you woke up.” He said something to a blue Wocky beside him; the Wocky nodded and scampered away to the other side of what appeared to be a campsite for the soldiers. Then Jeran nodded to the two knights who had been holding my arms. They released me and I struggled to get up. Seeing me in obvious discomfort, the Lupe put an arm around my back and helped me into a sitting position.

     “Why?” I asked. “My father and brother were in that horde of people; what did they think they were doing? Why were they serving Kass’s army?” I was hopelessly confused.

     While Jeran tried to phrase his answer, I examined myself. I was still in my night gown, which now had a hole in the sleeve, and my shawl was lying a few feet away from me. I still wore my boots, but the blue ribbon that I had pulled my hair back with was gone. My hair was in front of my face and scraggly from sleep and the battle I had apparently been involved in. There was a matted mass of bloody hair at the base of my neck; I reached back to touch it and winced.

     “Don’t touch that,” Jeran cried, startled. He grabbed my hand and pulled it away from my head. “Danner’s gone to get some bandages so we can patch you up.” Then, with a resigned look of explaining bad news, he began to answer my questions. “We don’t think that the villagers willingly served Kass. Recently the King’s court has been besieged from within by a dancer who hypnotized the court. King Skarl himself has fallen under her spell.”

     My mouth dropped and my eyes grew wide. “The dancer! The Aisha gypsy from last night!”

     “You’ve seen her? What happened?” Sir Jeran looked desperate for answers.

     “Yes, my brother told us there was a gypsy caravan coming through, so we went. But Father and Adam started acting strangely after they saw the dance. Do you think they were hypnotized?”

     Jeran nodded, managing to look concerned about the dancer and sympathetic toward me at the same time. Danner came back and gave the blue Lupe some bandages. While Sir Jeran cleaned and dressed my wound, I examined the campsite.

     There were about fifteen knights; some had only swords, but a few like Danner had crossbows. Tents were clustered around a fire pit and there were two battle stretchers next to a large tent that apparently was the makeshift hospital. The combat medic could be seen bustling around; she was a matronly shadow Zafara who kept sending concerned glances in my direction. As I peered closer at the stretchers I could see a yellow Eyrie and a blue Scorchio; they appeared to be severely wounded from the battle with the townspeople and Kass’s machines. I couldn’t help wondering guiltily if my father or brother had injured one of the knights.

     Jeran noticed my obvious discomfort and said, “Don’t worry, they aren’t badly hurt. The Eyrie is Lady Temeraire and the Scorchio is Sir Robin. You’ll be going back to Meridell City with them.”

     “What! No, no way am I going somewhere safe! My father and brother are no where to be found and under the control of some dancing Aisha. I want to fight! I can fight; I know how to use a sword and crossbow. Don’t send me away.” The injustice of the situation rankled at me. If I left, it would be like betraying my family. Even if I found out they were dead, then at least I would be doing something, helping Meridell, rather than just sitting in some inn wondering what was going on. These people had saved my life and I needed to repay them somehow.

     Danner had been listening and said to Jeran, “Why don’t we bring her along, Jeran.”

     The Lupe shook his head and was about to say something but the Wocky continued, “We have two knights out of commission; she can help if she is as proficient with weapons as she says.”

     “We have no armor that will fit her,” Jeran pointed out, his hazel eyes running over my slim form.

     “Lady Temeraire’s armor will fit her. It even has spaces for her wings, and the lady knight will have no need of it when she is safe in Meridell Castle, and even if she does, the blacksmith there can make her a new suit.”

     Jeran still looked as though he’d rather not but was forced into a corner by Danner’s logic. With a sigh he nodded and said, “All right, outfit her with armor and weapons; we’ll take her along.”

     _ _ _ _ _

     A week after my rather hurried acceptance into the group of warriors that were trying to protect the villages by the citadel, I was gathering plants to help with the slowly declining food rations. While I worked, I reflected on the events of the past week. Danner and I had become good friends over the few days we had spent with each other. His personality reminded me almost exactly of Adam’s, except minus the annoying older brother part. We frequently took watches together until Jeran told us that we had to actually watch for trouble and we couldn’t do that when we were messing around. No more dual watches for me and Danner.

     I’d also gotten to know most of the other knights, not as well as Jeran, Danner, and the medic Tasha, but well enough that I didn’t feel uncomfortable talking to people. The meals were skimpy, but morale was high nonetheless. People told stories around the fire, and when we wouldn’t be heard, sang marching tunes to pass the time during the long daily walks. And then there was the discovery of my hidden talent. It had been three days ago; Jeran and I were talking after he told me I shouldn’t watch with Danner.

     “So,” I said, taking advantage of the calm moment alone with Jeran, “Why didn’t I get snared by the dancer’s spell? Everyone else did.” Jeran looked confused, his brow wrinkled.

     “Don’t you know?”

     “No...”

     “Oh, I thought you did. Sorry.” He looked sheepish, and under his blue fur he flushed a little bit. “Well, my sister Lisha didn’t get hypnotized either; she says that if you have magic in you, meaning if you’re an arcane sensitive, or a seer, or a mage, the Court Dancer’s spells will have no effect on you.”

     “But I’m not any of those things!” I exclaimed. “I’m just a poor farm girl.”

     Jeran shook his head, a knowing smile on his lips. “Magic comes in all shapes and sizes Aislin, it comes in all people too. You just need to stop doubting yourself. Have faith.”

     Remembering his words I snorted in disbelief; it sounded like the moral of a children’s bedtime story. Well, this wasn’t a faerie-tale; in faerie-tales everything always came out right in the end, and I didn’t see myself living happily ever after.

     A scream broke me from my reverie. That was Taegan! Dropping the plants and herbs I had collected, I ran toward the sound, my hand on the borrowed short sword. While I ran, I was reminded painfully of the attack on my village, and how a scream had alerted me to danger the same way. I prayed to the fates that war engines, Skeith soldiers, and hypnotized villagers weren’t what awaited me.

     _ _ _ _ _

     When I reached the clearing that we had set up camp in, I could hardly recognize it. The tents were trampled the fire had long since sputtered out of being and I could hardly tell who was on whose side in the mass of fighting bodies. Finally I could make out what looked to be a scouting force of Darigani soldiers that had apparently stumbled upon our camp by accident.

     “Ais!” Danner cried desperately looking for me while he helped Kasen fight back a Darigan Ixi.

     I called back to him, desperately trying to see him through the combatants. Then a Darigan Peophin was thrown from the battle and landed at my feet; he groaned for a moment, then stood up. Paralyzed with fear, I forgot my sword and stood for what seemed like an eternity staring at the menacing face of the Darigan.

     Laughing at what appeared to be an easy kill, the Peophin raised his saber. Acting out of pure desperate adrenaline, I raised my sword and slashed at him. He parried, but I drove in on him, my blade flashing against his. I couldn’t see or hear; everything was a blur of noise and shifting colors.

     Finally everything was silent. Danner came and patted me on the back. “It’s over, Ais, you got ‘im.” I looked down at my feet and there lay the Darigan Peophin. All around the campsite were other Darigan soldiers and a few of ours; none looked seriously injured, and I looked back at the Wocky crossbowman. “You did fine, Aislin, you did fine. I was worried; they came out of nowhere and attacked. I thought they might have run into you while you were in the woods.”

     I looked around again.  “No, I didn’t know anything was happening until Taegan yelled. Is anyone hurt?”

     Danner shrugged and hailed Tasha, the medic, as she hurried past us. They talked for a few moments in low voices then I heard Danner swear. He came back and grabbed my hand. “Come on,” he said.

     I followed him; his voice was strong but he seemed close to tears. We stopped and I saw Jeran lying on a stretcher, a long gash running from his back to his abdomen. The rest of the soldiers were crowded around. Tasha was crying and doing everything she could to try and save him. The knight was unconscious, and I would have thought him sleeping except for the sporadic twitches of his arms as the medic applied a salve to his wound.

     “Oh, Jeran.” Tears streamed unheeded down my cheeks as I knelt beside the fallen warrior. I clasped his bloody hand in mine and looked at Tasha. The Zafara was crying too and when she caught my eye, she shook her head in despair. The blue Lupe’s face was getting paler by the second and already his hand seemed cold. I hadn’t known him long, I’ll admit, but he was my friend, one of the only ones I’d ever had. He was brave and chivalrous and always put others before himself. Unconsciously my mind ran through the past week, focusing on the time I had spent with this fast fading hero. His inspirational words floated to the top of my consciousness: “Magic comes in all shapes and sizes, Aislin, it comes in all people too. You just need to stop doubting yourself. Have faith.”

     Immediately I knew what to do, as clearly as if Jeran had been speaking to me face to face. Dropping his hand, I laid both of my small hands on top of him. One on his chest, the other on his dreadful wound. My violet eyes closed and immediately the outside world was gone, replaced by a swirling mass of six colors, deep purple, bright yellow, vibrant green, soothing blue, a pastel grey so light it was almost invisible, and a flaming red. There was another color too, a brilliant gold, tinged with bits of lavender; there was no sound.

     Or was there? A faint muffled thumping noise seemed to thrum through the air. It faltered and sometimes stopped for a few seconds before beating wildly. A heartbeat. Jeran’s heartbeat. I focused with all my might on helping it, strengthening it, and suddenly the mists and the sound stopped.

     I opened my eyes. All was lost. I’d failed and probably made a fool of myself to boot. I tried to pick up my left hand to wipe my tears away, when I realized that I could feel something. A steady thump, like a heartbeat. Vibrant, triumphant gold light welled from my fingertips and covered the bloody gash. My violet eyes were wide in amazement as the work of months seemed to happen in seconds. The blood dried; the wound closed. Color returned to Jeran’s pale face.

     I heard a gasp of astonishment from behind me and I smiled. No, I grinned, so wide I didn’t know if I would ever be able to stop. The light dissipated and I removed my hands, exhausted. The Lupe’s chest rose steadily up and down. Tasha was the first one to react; she shrieked with delight and threw herself at me, embracing me with a bone crushing joy. Danner joined the medic and soon everyone was grinning and cheering and hugging me, or praising me, or patting me on the back.

     Then, just as soon as it started, the noise stopped, and Jeran Borodere stood before me, no wound in sight. I grinned stupidly and he matched the relieved expression. He made no move to touch me only stared in gratitude then said, “You see, Aislin, I told you. You just had to find faith in yourself.”

     The camp erupted once more into gleeful shouts. And I could only stand in the middle of the relief and fellowship I found around me.

     _ _ _ _ _

     The royal hall exploded into applause. The striped Korbat curtseyed neatly and swept back to her seat next to Jeran and Danner. Lisha and Tasha sat across from her and they flashed her congratulatory grins. Lord Darigan at the head of the table to the left of King Skarl nodded in her direction commending her story. Aislin smiled at them all; she was now the chief healer under King Skarl's command and one of the most accomplished sorceresses in Meridell, second only to Lisha in her magical accomplishments.

     Aislin was blushing prettily, embarrassed at the praise she was getting from her tale. She ran her fingers through her lavender hair. She had allowed it to grow long and it now reached almost to her hips. Her wings fluttered slightly as she leaned to her right toward the blue Wocky.

     “I didn’t think it would be so easy to tell the story,” the Korbat confided to Danner who grinned in response.

     “Well, m’lady,” the Wocky said, putting influence on the new title, “you just had to have faith in yourself.”

     Aislin rolled her violet eyes and shoved him playfully, she had blushed more from the use of her title. “Stop mocking the story, Danner.”

     “Yes, m’lady.” The table erupted in laughter as Danner got a soup tureen upended over his head.

The End

Author's Note: This is my first submission to the Times; I really hope you like it. It was supposed to be only a short story, but it kind of got away from me. -Cam