The Ways of Mages: Two Worlds

The Ways of Mages: Two Worlds

Andrew Beery and Catherine Beery

Copyright 2012 by Andrew Beery

Kindle Edition

Contents

The Ways of Mages: Two Worlds

Prologue- Daughter of Another Time

Chapter One – The Road West

Chapter Two - Of Night and Mud

Chapter Three- Kaber’s Inn and Eatery

Chapter Four- Preparations

Chapter Five-  Not Spatial…Temporal?

Chapter Six- Tomorrow’s Yesterday

Chapter Seven- Finally Time

Chapter Eight- To Beard the Lion in its Den

Chapter Nine- A Loop in Time

Chapter Ten- Choices and Sacrifices

Chapter Eleven- Upon a Sword’s Whim

Chapter Twelve- Pershara City

Chapter Thirteen- An Eagle’s Awakening

Chapter Fourteen- Cries of the Past

Chapter Fifteen- The Audience of Fate

Chapter Sixteen- Deceiving Appearances

Chapter Seventeen- The Isle Kingdom

Chapter Eighteen - In Lamb’s Clothing

Chapter Nineteen– Interesting Meetings

Chapter Twenty – A Voice in the Night

Chapter Twenty One- Late for Dinner

Chapter Twenty Two- A Distant Storm

The Ways of Mages #3: Starfire

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By Andrew Beery and Catherine Beery

Series Prolog

Lov
e
…

Such a simple word. It could almost be missed in a crowd of other words. But a simple word is often the best creation can offer. There is only so much that our imagination can hold; even though it is so vast. We, the creation, need to define everything around us in order to have a chance of understanding... Understanding our surroundings, each other, even ourselves. But love is so much more than the powerful feeling that most of us assume it is.

Love lives. Love has feelings and plans. Love creates.

Love created everything around us. He created so He would no longer be alone. And what He made was good. Love was a silversmith creating the world as a mirror.  The detail, the complexity; all of it proclaimed the glory of the one who made it for all to see. The silver mirror was thin to the point of fragility, but it was strong when it leaned upon its creato
r’
s strength.

Love granted His created companions a choice. He created everything, but there was one thing he could not create and have it be genuine: love. He did not make His creation to be empty constructions spilling empty praise and words of adoration. He wanted them to love Him. Genuinely and truly love and care for Him. So He gave them a choice: they could love and follow Him or they could choose not to. 

There were those who chose to know Love and the mirror was strong. But there were also those who turned away. They wanted to do things how they saw fit. No matter what the creator said. No matter who it might hurt. Each time they chose to go their own way something ugly was born. Something made of Hatred and Greed and Jealousy. These evil things tarnished the mirror.

They became known as The Dark Lords and they hated Love. For they compared themselves to Love and found themselves lacking. They were not as strong nor as powerful as Love. And they could never be.

They hated that knowledge.

So they turned to His mirror; the thing that had birthed them. The thing they could master. But they could not master it if it were whole. And so they whispered in creatio
n’
s many hearts. They planted doubts. And with each doubt, corruption began to spread. Tiny cracks appeared in the parts that had turned from Love. Eventually, there were so many who had fallen away. So many, that it took but the lightest, gleeful, touch of the Dark Ones to shatter the mirror.

And thus the world was sundered.

But Love, the Author of Creation, had a plan.

3000 years before present- Thioden

“
Time and space are a fabric. Each of our lives is a single thread in that fabri
c
…
”
- Bendon
D’
Armis

Kairevasigh flew high. Her night black feathers absorbed the dappled sunlight keeping her warm. She had transformed into her second form, the blood-right of all Sheyestivans. This second form was an eagle the size of a pony.  Kairevasig
h’
s eagle form would get bigger once she reached maturity. Then, she would be about seven feet high with an eleven foot wingspan.

She circled lazily, using the convenient thermals to stay aloft. Below her was a white city with sapphire and golden roofs.  Thioden, in all its splendor, was home of the Great Library and the Council of Wizards.  It went without saying that she had never heard of Thioden, or any of its denizens, before. It was Kaizir who told her what was what. How he described this strange world made her open her eyes. Looking around made her fee
l…
like she knew nothing at all.  Even after spending four of her twelve years at the greatest library in Sheyestiva, the Ulai
sé
kan.

Thioden teemed with many different people. There were those who had eyes similar to Kairevasig
h’
s blue with black veins, but they had silver threads too. Kaizir was one of these. They could do things that took her breath away. They used
telecy
, or the mind magics, with a skill that she had never seen before. People at home did
n’
t use their gifts so openly. To do so was to invite Challenge; which led to one of three things. The sought after outcome was victory. Victory proved you deserved respect because you were stronger, smarter, more cunning then your opponents. Those who failed the Challenge received shame and the loss of their honor. Those who were shamed had lost the respect of their fellows and were challenged more. Eventually, sooner rather than later, the third thing occurred. Death.

Kaizir and the others like him did not fear Challenge. They did
n’
t acknowledge it when she shyly asked. Kairevasigh felt as though she were a wounded cliff deer fawn surrounded by a pride of
ansool,
the clever winged leopards of the plain
.
She could
n’
t understand the customs of this place. She had no landmark in which to navigate. Her feelings of being out of place increased when she saw Kaizi
r’
s people do other things. Things not belonging to the mind magics of
telecy
. They could heal with warmth. They could light fires and build with water and air. They could shapeshift into any creature they saw... though Kaizir had told her once that they could not make themselves the identical twin of another. She still was
n’
t sure if they really could not... or if they
would
not.

There were other people too. There were dragons, for instance. Kaizir had called the
m‘
tru
e’
dragons. Kairevasigh was
n’
t sure what he meant by that. Were they Marlheman?  No one knew what she had been talking about when she asked. All they told her was that th
e‘
tru
e’
dragons were natives of Pershara, which was the name of the land and kingdom in which Thioden resided. Some said that it was the dragons who had built Thioden.

These Persaharian dragons reminded Kairevasigh of the Marlhemans. Marlhemans called themselve
s‘
dragon
s’
. They also built amazing fortresses and cities, or so the soldiers said. But the Persharian dragons had done something that the soldiers had never talked about. And it was one of those amazing things that would have been told of: the city of Thioden wa
s‘
aliv
e’
.

Kairevasigh circled in a tight spiral, trying to wrap her head around that. She got dizzy before she could.
Eventually,
she thought,
one just has to accept without understanding.
She had a wise moment every once in a while.

But there is a difference between saying something wise and internalizing that wise saying: for instance, being able to accept the sheer diversity of people that filled the streets of a living city.

Other than Kaizi
r’
s people, there were the fiery Ucora. The Ucora were a horse-like people with flaming manes and tails and a single mother of pearl-like horn protruding from their foreheads. They spoke in a strange, buzzing monotone that reminded her of a hive of bees. The soldiers had mentioned these creatures.  Creatures of fire and death, they said. They never mentioned the Ucor
a’
s amazing passion in dance. Nor the skill they showed with carving sculptures out of pure fire.

There were also a tall, bipedal people with pointed ears and silver-white hair. They called themselves Lvessa. They reminded Kairevasigh of living, opaque ice sculptures. She kept that opinion to herself. She did
n’
t fancy having all the water in her body frozen, which the soldiers described happening to their companions and Cursed troops.

But, if she were honest, it was the lizard people who freaked her out the most. Something about having several eyelids and weird tongue
s…
She could
n’
t explain her revulsion. She just found them disgusting.  She avoided them and th
e‘
tru
e’
dragons because she was
n’
t sure how to act around either group. One unnerved her. The other made her think of the Enemy. There were humans too. It was mind boggling to Kairevasigh, who was used to only dealing with her own kind.

Only
Sheyestivans
were in the Empire of
Sheyestiva
.

Kaizir had told her, during a game of chess on a sailing vessel that he was the Nirami or king of Arathin, Other than trying to bow and hoping to stay out of sight, Karievasigh had no idea of how to act around a king. Kaizir had told her not to do th
e‘
bow and scrap in fea
r’
thing to him. A bow of respect was about the only homage he desired.

After she popped into existence in the middle of his entourage on their way to the ship, he had been curious. And thus he brought her to Pershara with him. He had asked his Lord about her. Maybe she had misunderstood, but Kairevasigh had no idea who could be above a king. Kaizir, after asking, had told the others that he sensed no evil from her. That he had been told that she was lost and needed to witness or learn something. Not ominous at
al
l
…
But she had no one and nowhere else to go. So she found herself traveling with a king to
another
foreign country. Kaizir was visiting Pershara to strengthen the political ties between the two countries. His goal was to foster even greater learning and prosperity between the two.

She had never heard of Pershara before she touched a pillar of Kales Amei inscribed with a tale of the end of the world. Arathin she had, once and a long time ago. And more as a folktale than a history. The other words, the names:
 ‘
Kaizi
r’
an
d‘
Niram
i’
stirred something deep in her memory. She had read, as part of her studies, a Sheyestivan folk tale honoring the near mythical leader of great power and cunning. A leader who, if folk tales could be believed, lived some three thousand years ago. A leader named Kaizir. It ashamed her that it had taken her this long shake that memory loose. In her defense, it had been couple years ago.

And I played chess with the Great Kaizi
r…
Kairevasigh shivered. The pillars had sent her back in time. Why? How could she get back home? More to the point: why her?

***

Present day- Pershara

“
Your pet has failed
.”
The Dark Lor
d’
s voice hissed from under his cowl and slithered down to settle like chains about Maltacken. The shadowy blob quivered slightly.

“
In Vandenburg, My Lord. But not since. She has captured the new king the Arch Bishop has electe
d”
the Lord of Shadows pointed out.

“
Aye, My Lord of Shadows. Tis the only reason she is still alive. I suppose she has captured Thomas Grimholden to further your own plans
?
”

“
Our plans, yes
.
”

The Dark Lord laughed. The Dark-kin about the table watched, wondering which way his mood would fall
.“
Regardless
,”
The Dark Lord replied
,“
Should she fail to keep Thomas Grimholden in her tender car
e…
she will know what it means to disappoint me.  There are worst things than death. If any of those things keep your soon-to-be husk aliv
e…
Well, that is somewhat doubtful
.”
Maltacken bowed his blob head.
 “
As for his niece, the half bree
d
…
 
Irathaz
,”
The Lord of Wrath straightened in his seat
.“
Happy hunting
.
”