The Legend of Jade

02

 

Within the Liontari Kingdom, on the edge of where the plains meet the strange Forest of Secrets, there nestles a town hidden in the rolling hills. While it was quite the sprawl, large walls completely engulf it, skewing it from view. The dark forest looms ominously nearby, like a monster ready to fall upon them. Outside, farmlands decorate its exterior, where workers labor to gather the harvest before the coming winter, while men watched their efforts, as well as the hills beyond. Women and men alike bustled the tired streets in their day-to-day tasks, easy-going as it can be for this lax time of year. Children played after their school hours, acting as knights, damsels, lions, and dragons of legend. Such knights patrolled the streets as they chatted and monitored their homes. All things were peaceful, and no alarm had yet penetrated the gates of BrokenArrow. The town of peace and natural life.

Beyond the borders, the hills and forest meet in a small concave dome. Here, two people spent their time. Swinging and slashing. Jumping and running. Fighting one another on occasion. One was a young woman, barely considered a young adult. Her hair of gold was controlled and braided down her back. Beneath leather armor, bracers and gloves laid simple pale gray clothes worn through the years. She wielded a spear, simplistic and sharp, with graceful arcs as she did make advancements upon the man before her. Her brother. His hair was shorter but less organized and hung loosely from his head. His eyes, same as hers, sparkled with a blue that rivaled the clarity of the sky. His outfit was identical, although his armor was much more worn than the one the women wore. He smiled brightly and proudly as she swung viciously in his direction. He slowly moved back with deliberate footing. Around stones and trees as she chased him with her spear. But every attempt was batted away with the sword he himself wielded.

He slowly led her to a pond. And as she stabbed with her spear, he grabbed the shaft and pulled her into the waters. She erupted, soaked, angry, and glaring at her brother, Lyse. He laughed and leaned on his sister's spear.

"Are you alright, Massua?" he asked with a prideful smile.

She coughed up water, returning a smaller, embarrassed smile. "I'm alright. Water never hurts anyone."

He offered her a hand, which she immediately accepted. But not as he intended. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the pond as well. The water reaching every crevice of the armor he wore. And as he reached the surface, she was laughing as well.

"You never play fair, brother," she told him as she climbed out and dried out her hair. He gave her a sideways smile.

"Do you think the Asedians fight fair?" he asked. "Or the Frostlanders. Or the shifters upon those distant shores? Or perhaps those other terrors upon our lands?"

"And how exactly am I supposed to get out there," she asked him, grabbing her spear and wiping off the dirt from its pointed tip. "I'll be lucky if I see anything past the few towns I've ever seen."

"You'll find your own way," he assured her, getting back into a readied stance. "I've taught you how to handle yourselves. I've taught you the ways of knights, of secret codes, and avra. Of course, you still have a lot to learn, however."

She sighed, twirling her spear and standing away from the pond, and pointed towards him. A horse came to a stop on the nearby hill, unbeknownst to the two who sparred with one another, once again in a routine of slashes and stabbed as Lyse evaded each attempt. As shadows grew their longest and the silent winds grew whispers, Lyse knew his sister now grew wary as her movements slowed. Besides, it was nearly time to get home before the night arrived. So he decided to stop, grabbing the shaft of her spear and setting it aside.

"I think that about does it for now; how about some more aura training before we head off," he told her, sheathing the sword at his side.

She sighed at this. "Really, I can go a few more rounds."

"Come now, The avra forms are more important than any swordsmanship I can teach you, and you know that. Besides, I might have something special by the end."

She gave a very skeptical look to her brother but did as she was told. He was her instructor, and she wouldn't have gotten this far if it wasn't for his secret efforts. She moved and sat down near the edge of the pond. The faint humming of crickets and cicadas was omnipresent at this time of day, the air cool and nice on the skin. The sun cast beautiful rays across the plains. She took in a deep smell of the familiar scent of dry grass and earthy aromas wafting along with the breeze. After she was nice and composed, her aura still and calm, this special training could be underway. Lyse sat beside her, feeling the calm stream of aura that came from her. She was a quick learner. Given time, she can become quite the warrior. Knight, even. But there are steps you must not skip in that process.

"Now that your aura is still," he whispered. "We can practice avra; the fourth form. Picture the world around you. It's various forms and shapes, all the pleasures and sensations of the senses. Feel the aura, that energy that floats about. It's everywhere. It is everything. It brushes past you, and it extends to the very sun. It's a part of you, me, and all that we know of this world. It's as familiar as any of the five senses we creatures have become accustomed to. Now extend that sense outwards. That is the fourth form. Void."

She took a deep breath and tried to visualize what he meant. It was very abstract, what he described. So unlike the more formulaic approach, martial arts was. Really, there was no logic behind the ability to see the world per the aura that permeates it. But, it was a required skill amongst knights apparently. She felt her own energy, the calm resting state it usually is in meditation. Then, as her brother instructed, she extended it outwards. The darkness from her eyes closed began to brighten ever so slightly. She could notice globules flying in and out of her vision like sentient creatures in the sky. They seemed so distant and unfocused, however, she couldn't make out what those shapes were. She stayed like this for minutes on end, trying to sharpen the image, but it seemed so tedious, and the image barely came together to something she could recognize. She got frustrated, trying to force her aura to bend in some way to allow her to see what she wanted to see. But as soon as she tried to exert herself, her brother's hand settled on her shoulder. Massua opened her eyes to see Lyse beside her, shaking his head.

"Forcing void will get you nowhere. You need to allow it to happen," he told her. "This isn't like regular applications of aura, and there is no way of brute-forcing your way through it."

"Edlund seemed to have a grasp on it, and he's a meathead," she murmured. "Come on, can't we get back to sparring or something?"

"Now who's the meathead?" he asked, the hurriedly said. "Just a few more minutes, alright?"

She groaned this time, sitting back into a meditative stance and closing her eyes once more. Like before, the world of darkness that met her shut eyes became a cascade of various forms and aura moving about. The vision slowly began to clear up, but not by much. Just now, she could tell just a bit of depth with what she was working with. The faint colors that she determined to be further away than those made clear their shapes much more quickly. But then, she felt something warm beside her. Then, a flurry, like a sudden wind, had come about, but she did not feel it on her skin. The feeling came deep from her core. It was just aura, raw unkempt aura. She turned towards it and saw the bright white color that took up her vision. It was startling, like a roaring flame vaguely in some humanoid shape standing next to her. It reached up into the sky. It was an imposing power. But when she opened her eyes, Massua only saw the dopey smile of her brother looking back at her, but now holding some box in his hands.

"Massua Opal?" Lyse spoke in a formal, courtly way.

"Yes, brother?" she asked unsurely, but her eyes were glued to what he held. He slowly unwrapped it from its bindings, revealing a blade similar to his own. An arming sword with a regular leather hilt and iron guard, stainless and shining in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. He presented it before her as a knight.

"It's not the most beautiful weapon in Liontari, but every knight needs her-" he barely finished his words as she jiggly hugged him and snatched the sword away, admiring the craftsmanship, and swing it around with happy content. Her excitement eventually died down as she looked at the blades near the reflected surface.

"I love it," she said, but her smile slowly dropped as well," if father sees this, he most surely will take it away."

"No, he wouldn't. Even if he did, then I'll have to make you a new one," he told her. "What is a knight without their sword? A warrior without their weapon? Want to try it out?"

Her excitement returned instantly with that penetrating comment. "Of course. Although, now I'm going to destroy you with a weapon like this."

She pointed the blade at him and saw as the edges of its sharp blade began to ignite with white light: aura, the power of creation. Energy left over from the birth of their world. He has begun teaching her this, but he had thought her progress nowhere near this level, to imbue objects with aura. Even in the hand of a novice, such magic is a dangerous force used by knights to augment whatever they come into contact with. Lyse looked with uncertainty as he took a step back, and she charged. She twirled and slashed down, ready to attack as he prepared to defend. But as their blades were to clash, another, longer one interrupted the interaction and a brief puff of the white energy dissipated. They both backed away immediately from the man with a longsword at his side. He was older than both by considerable years. But his grey eyes still held onto some youth also expressed in his warm smile. His dark hair was cleanly trimmed and brushed to the side. He wore a full plate of pristinely polished armor, the emblem of their home on his chest, and a shield was strapped to the back of his white cape.

"Strength comes not from the power of our weapons, young one," he told Massua. He sheathed his blade at his side, next to a shorter one. "But rather, how we choose to wield power we have been given."

Deep embarrassment returned to her cheeks as she held the blade out to him, but a smile remained. He slowly took it, inspecting the neat craftsmanship. "Is this weapon your handiwork, Lyse?"

"Yes," Lyse said, tilting his head up a bit as he sheathed his own. "Yes, it is, Sir Gabbes. Your arrival is the most welcomed master, although unexpected all the same. I had the blade commissioned a few months ago at the local blacksmithy. My father helped slay a drakon ravening the crops, and he received some of its scales. He allowed me to have them, so I had them infused within the blade for my sister."

"Truly a worthy weapon," he said, twirling it once in hand to test its balance before handing it back to her. "Although, I doubt your father intended it to be given to her so young."

"Forgive me, sir Gabbes, but that's not fair," she nearly cried. "Lyse was much younger than I when he began his training."

"And that alone was through much-heated debate between your mother and father, and my pleading to do so," he sighed thoughtfully. "I sometimes fear what kind of favor I owe them now. Never bargain with your father. Anywho, I did not come to lecture you on how you spend your free hours. Some interesting events led me here. Is Lyse still besting you, Massua?"

They both gave their own opposing answers, which made Massua's glare burn holes in the side of his head. Sir Gabbes chuckled at them, giving the blade back to Lyse. "It is a fine blade, Lad."

"Thank you," he said graciously. He bowed his head. "But you said you came here for other reasons. May I be obliged to know why that is master?"

"Well, your parents were to be here by now, but no ceremony, I suppose."

Gabbes nodded, shedding his light-hearted self for much more formal wear. He gave the motion for Lyse to kneel, and Lyse did so. Massua, seeing this, did the same as Gabbes unsheathed his long sword once again and held it over his head ritualistically. Then, his free hand revealed a piece of parchment, the seal broken and laid upon for him to read from. Lyse's expression turned to astonishment. Gabbes took a deep breath, moving the sword from one of Lyse's shoulders to the other. Then, he moved his sword before him, and the blade pointed to Lyse's chest as Lyse grabbed the blade.

"Hail to your father and mother. Son of the fields, Lyse Opal. Son of Celia Opal, heir of Wilbur Opal upon the yield," he said. "You are now officially granted the right of passage for all squires. You are formally invited to the final test for your knighthood in the capital of our great kingdom. If you are to succeed, you shall be granted the title of knight, and become the sword of our empire. Do you accept this grand gesture?"

"I shall," he said quietly. "My heart is with the lion. May I be the shield of our empire," he pulled on the blade slightly, and the keen edge easily cut through his glove and into his skin. Blood seeped down the blade as Gabbes pulled away, and they both stood before him. Massua clapped happily as Lyse stood and walked to the pond to clean his cuts. It stung, but he bit through the pain as the water washed away the blood, the crystal clear water now permeating with the bright blood. He stood then, looking down at his hands as blood still welled in the shallow marks. He took a deep breath and focused on his hands, imagining the flesh mending and blood seizing its flow. He closed his palms, opening them to see cuts faded to scars, matching on either hand. Massua hugged him from behind, and Gabbes looked on proudly.

"You have worked hard for your place as a knight," he said to him. "Your training as a mere squire is complete. And you are well on your way to becoming a defender of the clans."

"I don't know what to say," Lyse handled the paper carefully in his hands. But he soon furrowed his brow. "What of Edlund. Has he been accepted as well?"

Gabbes frowned, his tone turning a little reassuring. "I've sent his testing and formal estimations to the capital the same as yours. I'm sure he shall arrive soon. Until then, we should all be proud of what we have done"

Lyse noticed the lack of confidence in Gabbes's voice but decided to accept the thought. He doesn't know if he can go without Edlund.

"Dad will be so proud," Massua told Lyse.

"His father is proud," a different, deeper voice made presence among them. Standing upon the hill was yet another man with short brown hair. His face was grizzled and riddled with the hair of a short beard. His darting green eyes locked onto Lyse and smiled deeply. He was wearing simple clothing, as expected from a farmer. But he walked with an authority that even made Gabbes nod his head in respect and shake his hand. Their father nodded, then looked to the two who still held their blades. He stood before Lyse and grappled him in for a tight hug, which Lyse gladly returned.

"I never imagined the day I would see this," he said softly in his ear, then pulled away. Lyse couldn't help but smile at his father, a bit speechless and still, but his heart did pound with joy. "Your mother and I did not want a life of combat, the life given to knights, to be yours. We have been accustomed to a quiet life. But now, seeing you as a man, there is no doubt left for me."

"Thank you, father," Lyse said and bowed his head. "I . . . don't know what to say . . ."

"He's been working very hard," Massua chimed in. Immediately her father's gaze shifted to her, and she could feel the weight of an elephant suddenly on her shoulders. "He's . . . uh, he has been a hard worker."

He sat a calm hand on her shoulder, and she prepared herself to be chastised, but he did not speak. He simply looked her in the eyes, the warmest radiating from them that only made her want to smile as well. And then he smiled, looking at his own two feet as if he has been contemplating on their effectiveness.

"Massua," he said. "I never wanted your path to be the same as Lyse either. You admire your brother, but are you sure you are prepared?"

"I'm sure I will be," she twirled the blade in hand, making several maneuvers to show off what she had learned. "Lyse has taught me a lot. And with more help, I will be more than ready to be a knight."

"Maybe," Gabbes admitted. "I am sure you will be a fine warrior."

Their father gave a very troubled glance to Gabbes but nodded and then gestured back up the hill. "Come along now. Your mother has prepared dinner for us. It would be a terror to keep her waiting. Besides, we must prepare for celebrating your knighting, right Lyse?"

"I'll catch up soon," Lyse said and then looked off towards the woods. "There's something I want to do first."

His father nodded. "Very well. Just don't be very long. Come along now, Massua; let us go home and discuss more."

(X)

Lyse waited till they all had left and were long gone. He watched as their figures crested the hills, and disappear, then walked over to the pond once more. There were still some fish inside. As they swirled and danced within their realm. He took a deep breath and sighed, kneeling next to the waters. He reached into the folds of his clothing and pulled out a small necklace. It was a pendant, gold inlay wrapped around two gems, back to back. One was a green emerald, and the other a blue topaz. He clutched it in his hand and took another long, slow breath in and then out. Lyse did this for several minutes. Soon, as he felt his heartbeat within his chest, the gems began to glow and resonate in the same pattern. Matching him beat by beat with pulses of blue and green light.

He remembered that it was here. When he was very young that his mother gave this to him as a gift, told him always to protect it and that through it, she would be watching him. He did not understand those words. Nor does he to this day. But he always felt warm and happy holding it. And that alone made it a worthwhile gift.

"Thank you," he whispered to himself.

"If that is the case, then why not say it to her face?"

Lyse quickly whipped around, sword on his hilt, but then froze at who he saw standing before him. It was a woman, almost as tall as him. Tall for most women in the clans, but average for a thirian, those who are born with a gift from the wild, to be able to turn into one of a few animals. Children of the forest, a name was often given to those who hail from the Empire of Clans but are most true of the Thirians. Her golden-like hair matches his in luminosity. Her deep, crystal blue eyes showered him with affection as he slowly approached him. She was a simple brown dress of simple fabrics, but her face was youthful and energetic. Lyse gave her a tight hug before finally letting go. She took the pendant around his neck in hand and inspected the two gems. The pendant seemed to increase in its complexion immediately after her gentle touch.

"You have carried this thing around since I gave it to you," she whispered. "Letting not a speck of dirt hit it."

She allowed the pendant to fall against his chest to then look up at him. The darkness of night had settled upon the land now. The only thing that lit the area was the night sky, the