Chapter one : Balion

NO MERCY FOR THE WEAK!1

The quill moved across the rough paper in a fluid motion, soaking in with the knowledge of plants and remedies that would help for a number of the most common illnesses found throughout the Kingsland. Balion carefully put the quill back in its holder, stretched his arms above his head, and looked critically on the work he had produced.2

Well, it wasn’t the best he could do, the tails on the “Y” were still what his grandfather would call hooks. And he would have liked to embroider the edges. But all in all it was sufficient for what was needed.3

Balion pushed up from the chair and moved to the cabinet, where he removed four small paper weights that would hold the paper open while it dried.4

Warm streaks of resplendent light filtered through the single window of the back room, colours dancing a myriad of shades as individual ink pots reflected the rays repeatedly off their glass cased bottles, giving the room a more vibrant and airy atmosphere than actually warranted.5

Balion was careful when placing the weights, the last thing he wanted was to obscure the still wet ink, it had taken a good four days work copying from the old book his grandfather kept, one of many that were precisely ordered in alphabetical sequence in the small room used as a library.6

While Balion used the task of copying the old remedies more to pass the days than for any actual practise at his scribe skills, he found it gave him a quite sense of accomplishment and pride. It was good to know his time would be valued and helpful to others.7

After making sure there were no creases, misspelled words, or smudges that would impede the readers who sought to gain the knowledge painstakingly copied over the previous days, Balion was satisfied everything was in order. 8

As he moved out the small back room and made his way to the kitchen in the comfortable sized cottage, sounds of animals and birds were clearly audible. 9

The house seemed oddly quite and empty with Julian gone. It was like a critical component was missing, a team of horses without their driver. While Balion was well able to cope, he found himself counting down the days to his granddads return.10

The stew was bubbling nicely when he came into the kitchen, the aromas of spice and stock assaulted his senses, it was a welcome difference from the biting scent of ink, which was almost corrosive in its efforts to distract and annoy 11

A quick taste brought the familiar flavours, added with a nice chunk of venison from which Balion had tracked and hunted the previous day. It seemed all his efforts at hunting the beast were, after all, going to be worth while. 12

Once he was satisfied the stew was finally finished, Balion retrieved the book his granddad had told him to study while he was away. Sitting at the table, book in one hand and spoon in the other, a glass of blueberry aligned next to his food, and the evening sun cascading through the glass window, it seemed a perfectly relaxing day. 13

Like a rabbit in the woods, Balion lifted his head. There was a noise, only just detectable, one that more likely than not would have gone unnoticed by anyone not so attuned to the quite sounds of the life surrounding him.14

It was unmistakably the sound of feet treading the loose gravel outside the cottage. Balion put his things on the table and pushed up, he was curious as to who it could be. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had made the out-of-the-way journey to his and his grandfathers home. Being rather deep into the woods, the people of the village usually just waited until either he or Julian went into town to speak with them. It was usually his grandfather they wanted to see, who knew a many facts about things both mundane and magical. The amount of sometimes random facts the old man could effortlessly pull from the air was astonishing. 15

Through the window Balion caught a glimpse of wavy blonde hair, it was now clear to him who it was, he couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face.16

Balion pulled open the door before the outstretched hand on the other side could make contact.17

“Michal, do you know what the time is? Its nearly nightfall, what you doing out here so late. You haven’t been up to trouble again, have you?”18

Michal, the village rouge, entrepreneur, and all round mischievous trouble maker, looked up with a forced grin.19

“Not me… at least this time,” he said breathlessly.20

Balion shook his head.21

“Well, you better come in, I suppose you have a good reason for making the journey so late in the day?”22

Michal nodded he did as he passed through the open door and collapsed gratefully into an offered chair.23

Balion returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for his friend, “Here, drink this.”24

“Thanks,”25

After Michal had managed to get his breath back, his nose twitched and he looked up at the table were Balion’s stew was. The Blonde young man looked back to his friend hopefully.26

“Go on,” said Balion indicating the food. Michal’s appreciation for food was near legendary, and there was more than enough still left in the pot for his own dinner. “And while you eat, you can tell me why you were in such a rush to get here.” His friend nodded he would.27

Once he had managed a quick few mouthfuls, Michal spoke.28

“Balion, where’s your grandfather? He’s needed at the village.”29

“Why?” asked Balion with raised eyebrows.30

Michal shrugged and waved the spoon around, “Trouble. You know how all those in the village act “It’s not for you to know, now go out and fetch Julian.” That’s what they told me. I hate it when they try to treat me as a child, I should have told them to run out here their bloody self.”31

Balion almost smiled at Michal’s aggravation. He knew well that Michal would have told them exactly that. However, the fact that he didn’t, and he was now sitting here with Balion meant there must have been reason sufficient for him to think it necessary to allow himself ordered about, something Michal was not gracious about in the best of times. 32

“My grandfather’s not here, he went to Rallion about a month ago. He said there was something he needed to sort out. He won’t be back for another month.” It was likely to be closer to two.33

“What! What do you mean he went to Rallion? He didn’t tell anyone he was going, surely those in the village would have known.” Michal was uncharacteristically agitated.34

Balion eyed his friend carefully, “Julian doesn’t have to let those in the village know every time he wishes to make a journey.” Balion sighed, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”35

Michal nodded to himself as he realised there was nothing that could be done about Julian not being there.36

“There was some trouble, I don’t really know what. All I know is that one building looks like it was hit by a bolt of lightning, there’s a dead man, and another close to death. We don’t know who they are. There were two strangers who came in about three days ago, we know the injured man is one of those. The dead man, though, nothing is known about.” Michal shivered. “And to tell the truth, I don’t really want to know, just the sight of his body gave me the creeps.”37

Balion was shocked, nothing like this had ever happened before. All he could think to ask was, “what do you mean? What was wrong with his body?”38

A look of revulsion crossed Michal’s face as he pushed the now empty bowl forwards.39

“I don’t know. Other than having pure transparent skin, from which you could see all his veins and bones. Dark black eyes that could only be the gift of the Nameless himself, and pointed fingernails which looked more like claws, I would say he looked perfectly normal.”40

Balion was sceptical about the description, but kept any doubt from showing on his face. There were, at times in the history of the Kingsland, any number of accounts of so called twisted and deformed people. The stories made for entertaining reading, and something to scare kids if they were to misbehave.41

“Are you sure that’s what you saw? Maybe he had lost colour because he was dead, and there was no more blood pumping through his body.”42

Michal shook his head emphatically, “No, no. I know what I saw, and I’m telling you, it wasn’t natural. I’m not sure if he was even human.” He looked as if a thought just struck him, and nodded his head. “Actually, I think he was an alien.”43

Balion couldn’t help but laugh, “An alien? Michal, this is me your talking to, not the village girls who you can beguile with your tales. It was probably as I said, have you ever seen a dead body before?”44

Michal looked indignant, “Well no, I haven’t seen a dead body.”45

“Then how can you tell he looked any different from any other person who has died? Was it day or night when you saw him?”46

“Night,” answered Michal. “But that doesn’t mean anything, I know what I saw.”47

Balion wondered if his friend was exaggerating, Michal did have a tendency to upon occasion.48

Balion sat still and calm while he digested the information he had been given, trying to make sense of what his friend had told him. Finally he spoke.49

“So what’s wrong with the other man? Is he injured bad?”50

Michal nodded, “I didn’t see him close up, but from what I saw he didn’t look in good shape. Cecil was helping, he was the one who sent me out here to fetch your granddad, he seemed to think there was a good chance the man wouldn’t make it.” he pointed at Balion. “Isn’t there anything that you can do to help? You’re Gifted.”51

Balion shrugged self consciously, the Gift wasn’t something he liked to discuss. It was, he had learned over the years, both helpful and debilitating. There were a many things that he could accomplish that others could not, but he was, for having been born with the Gift, a constant shadow pushed to the side of the lives of normal people, regarded as somewhat distrustful, and to some, even feared. Balion supposed that unlike his granddad, who was also Gifted, he never took the time to allay the fears of the villagers and to mingle. To Balion a good day was one where he spent most of it alone, preferably in the forest on his favourite black rock that overlooked the small lake not too far from the cottage.52

Balion let out a breath. There was the thing he had been practising over the last three weeks. It was dangerous, but depending on how serious the man was wounded, it could well be his only chance. He tried to dismiss what he knew his granddad would say.53

“Maybe. Do you need to rest before making your way back?”54

Michal shook his head and got to his feet, “You forget, Balion. I was the one who beat you in this years crossing, I can certainly keep up.” The last was said with a smile.55

Balion gave his friend a mocking smile of his own. “Ok, I will have to keep my pace a little slower for you, considering that you cheated in that particular race. After all, I wouldn’t want you to get lost in the forest. It was bad enough last time, and that was in the day.”56

Michal scowled, “I won that race fair, you know that. And the matter with me being lost was all your fault, I told you I didn’t know where I was.” Then he brightened visibly. “And it worked out well, in the end.”57

“For you,” muttered Balion as he picked up his cloak from the corner. “I was the one who spent the night out in the cold, looking, while you managed to find yourself a warm barn to stay the night, and probably the only young woman for miles to wait on you, among other things.”58

Michal nodded to himself in remembrance, “And what a lovely young woman she was,”59

Balion threw his friend a dark look over his shoulder, to which Michal held up his hands. “I’m not like you, Balion. To me it was just a bit of fun, something to pass the time. We can’t all have your perfect morals.”60

“It’s called common sense, Michal. You should try using yours sometime.”61

If there was one thing about Michal that Balion disagreed with, it was his tendency to take what was offered and dismiss the consequences. To him there was no harm in what he did, it was all just “fun”, nothing to cause any harm. Balion himself knew of two young woman who had had their reputation tarnished by his friends unrestrained actions.62

Michal stood frowning at his friend, he couldn’t see why Balion would be bothered by what he did with woman, it wasn’t like they weren’t willing, because they certainly were. He sought to change the subject back to his reason for being here in the first place.63

“So, what do you think, can you help the injured man?”64

Balion twisted the silver ring on his finger, it was a mark of his training, compulsory to all who were in training with their gift. There were three rings in total, the first being for novices which was silver. Second was Gold, representing Gifted who were fully in control of their Gift. And third, the one his grandfather wore, was white gold, the sign of a master of his arts.65

“I will do what I can.”66

As he stood there, looking out the window onto the scenery surrounding his secluded home, Balion felt foreboding creeping up on him. He wondered, as he often did, were there acts of impulsion that lead to goals hidden in the subconscious? If in some way one could work to an outcome that is presently unknown. It’s said the Gods work through man himself, more-so the Gifted. If that is true, then who, in the end, is responsible for the actions of man? What is the right thing to do when faced with challenge and difficulty, should one do as he can, all that he can? Or should he, knowing that his acts in the end could only add to the fount of distrust that cocoons him, decide not to act? Would he then be wrong for declining his possible help, or would it be an act of the gods? 67

Balion shook himself out of his pointless revere, he didn’t believe in the Gods, he made and chose his own actions.68

“Come, lets go. If we’re lucky we should make it to the village by sunrise.”69

Michal sighed and followed Balion out the door.70

The night passed in a blur of shadows as the two young men made their way in the dark, both constantly gripped their cloaks as wind rippled through the large oaks surrounding them, trying in vain to relieve them of the small comfort of keeping warm.71

Balion was thankful of the moon, which was near to full and giving of enough light for them to be able to make there way along the twisted turns and unsteady ground of the forest floor. It was a pity Michal didn’t take more care to note where he put his feet. Throughout the night the blond headed young man would trip, which would quickly be followed by loud curse, then trip again.72

“Move over to the left, you will trip less.” Said Balion after his friend had finished his latest tirade.73

The dark couldn’t hide the glare Michal shot him when he got to his feet.74

“And how will that bloody help? Are there less holes on that side?”75

“No,” said Balion over his shoulder as he turned and carried on. “But you will be able to see the holes a little better on this side. The moons over there,” He pointed off to his right. “It might not seem it, but the light given off is stopped mostly by the trees on the right side of the trail. The left is a little brighter.”76

Michal looked incredulous, “It all looks the bloody same! I’m gonna end up with a broken neck long before we reach the village.”77

Balion was more worried about getting to the village in time than his friends complaining, it wasn’t like he had asked Michal to come out and get him, his night would have been a lot more pleasant had he not.78

“Do what you want, but I’m telling you, the left is easier to negotiate. Do you see me tripping over every other minute?” 79

Michal looked at his friends back with a scowl, then moved over to the left, deciding the broad shouldered young man with flowing black hair might have a point.80

Through the night Michal seemed to become more sure footed. He didn’t admit to Balion that he was in fact correct. There was a little more light on the left, not much at first, but after a time it was enough to prevent the untimely slips that were so annoying. It was the difference between shades of black, Michal had come to recognise the darker the shade the more likely-hood of a hole.81

If his mind hadn’t been so preoccupied with the worry of what would happen when he reached the village, Balion would have took pleasure in seeing his friend learn something new. It wasn’t easy trying to teach Michal.82

After covering most of the distance in the suffocating black of night, the sky was now gradually easing into a lighter shade of blue as a tired Balion, and a near collapsing Michal, came into view of the stout wooden settlement of the village.83

Built in a semi circle at the bottom of a rock face, the village was in a perfect spot to weather the yearly winters and forcing gales. It was also the most defensible position in miles, with a strong wooden wall encasing the village against the rock. It was said in the book of “Amoran” that it was a number of village’s similar to this that were the backbone supporting the invasion of the “50 Year War”. Balion remembered the account that spoke about the betrayal, it was an interesting counterpoint to well known history.84

Balion looked across at his friends drawn face, black circles outlined bright blue eyes and long lashes, he had almost feminine features.85

“You don’t look well, I think you should go get some sleep.”86

Michal gave a tired sigh.87

“After, lets go to Jerry’s first. It’s time to see if the stranger still lives, I have my doubts.”88

Since there was no need for vigilance in the last five hundred years, Balion and Michal entered the village of Blueban through the open and unguarded gate. The villagers agreed they had better things to do than to stand watch against the invisible shades of their fallen enemy.89

Balion steeled himself as he headed for the inn, putting in place the mask which was his usual countenance among the people of Blueban, a calm indifference which was his armour against the searching looks and furtive glances. He knew it was only natural for people to be weary of something they didn’t understand, even afraid. Maybe they had the right to be afraid of someone who could, with nothing but a thought, end their lives. It made little difference that he could also help. The natural instinct to threat was common to all, survival was valued above all else.90

Balion was grateful for the time of day, at least this early in the morning it wasn’t likely he would run into too many people. Hopefully he would not be here long.91

With Michal at his side Balion felt grateful to his friend. He was the only one in the village who hadn’t treated Balion as an outsider as he had grown up among the other children of Blueban. While he no doubt had his faults, Michal was a good and loyal friend. 92

When they reached the Inn, Michal pushed forwards and the door swung open, roasted meats and ale assorted their senses with a pleasant sample of warmth, Balion realised that he was seriously hungry.93

The room was all but empty, a lone man sat at one of the tables closest to the bar, he was ragged and taut, arms rippled with sinew and muscle were clearly visible through a sleeveless vest. As the stranger stood, his sword resting lightly against his thigh, he waited until Balion and Michal made their way over. 94

A face of sharp angles and close cropped hair only added to the mans unusual appearance. Balion noted that he carried himself with deadly purpose, every move precise and efficient. It struck him as almost fact, this man was a warrior.95

“My name is Xzen, I am of the Karu-ni, I am a warrior.” He spoke in an unfamiliar accent, and to Balion alone.96

Balion returned the appraising glance which was directed his way, then, not fully knowing why, introduced himself in a similar fashion.97

“My name is Balion, I am Gifted.”98

Xzen’s eyes narrowed. “No people?”99

“No,”100

Balion stood still as Xzen cocked his head to the side in thought, finally the stranger gave a sad smile. “Hard to have the Gift. Not many understand.” He held out a calloused hand for Balion. “I understand,” he said.101

The offered hand was to Balion such a simple, and yet as profound an act he had witnessed in many years. It seemed in that hand was simple recognition of how life was for one like him. 102

How he could understand when he didn’t have the Gift himself was puzzling, but Balion could see in the mans eyes that he did.103

Standing a head taller, crow black hair and eyes that were so black they seemed almost to glow, Balion leaned forward and clasped the mans hand.104

“My friend tells me your companion is hurt?”105

“My brother,”106

Balion said, “ok, where is he?”107

Xzen indicated with his hand the hallway beside the bar, “He is with a man who has a bag of plants, the plants help. The man named Jerry is also there with them. I was to wait here for help to arrive, come, follow me.”108

Balion and Michal moved to follow.109

“Not you, the room is small and uncomfortable with so many.” Said Xzen to Michal. “I thank you for bringing help for my brother, but you need to wait here.”110

Michal looked indignant, “I just spent nearly two days running so I could see your brother alive again, are you now telling me that I can’t see him healed?”111

Before Xzen could answer Balion spoke.112

“Xzen is right, Michal. It will do no good to have so many observers. You can have something to eat and rest while I will do what I can to help.”113

Michal looked a kid who had had his favourite toy taken from him. “But…”114

Balion rested a hand on his friends shoulder and spoke quietly. “Please, Michal.”115

Michal ran a hand through his blonde hair, then huffed.116

“I suppose. The food does smell good.”117

Once they had left a disgruntled Michal to discover what food he could, Balion and Xzen came to the outside of a wooden door. A putrid smell hung in the air, one totally at odds to the succulent smells of cooking. The odour was gut-wrenching, like singed hair and burnt beef.118

Xzen gripped Balion’s arm.119

“My brother, he is like you, he has the Gift. You can still help him?”120

Balion’s mouth opened, he was stunned by this sudden statement. In all his life Balion had only met two other people with the Gift. It also changed matters.121

“What is his gift?”122

Xzen looked confused, “I don’t understand your meaning, he has the Gift.”123

“Is his Gift through words or thought?” Asked Balion instead.124

Xzen nodded in sudden comprehension, “Words, he is a singer.”125

Balion let out a relieved sigh, “Well, at least that much is good.” He eyed Xzen seriously. “I have to tell you, I’m not sure if I can help. I know something that I can try, but its dangerous, and could end up causing your brother to lose what strength he already has.”126

The man nodded to himself, “You will do what you can. If you can’t help, then it is no difference, he is close to death. Small chance is better than no chance, no?”127

Balion gave a grim nod, “True,”