Inevitable Destiny

Inevitable Destiny

Chapter 1

         The war between the Magi and the Duroth has been waging for centuries.  It has been fought for so long that it is a generally accepted fact of life that the two will always be fighting until one of them is destroyed.  The Magi are accepted and celebrated in most towns and villages around the world.  They are protectors, they are healers, and they are the “good guys.”  The Duroth, on the other hand, are feared by nearly all.  There are very few Duroth controlled cities around the world, and only the Duroth are willing to go into them.  Cecil was born, raised, and lives with his mother and brother in the village of Rovallia which is a Magi-friendly village, and it is where Cecil begins his journey to becoming a Magi.

         “Cecil!  Edgar!  Breakfast!” Jolene Strife, the boy’s mother, shouted out of the back door of the family’s home.  The boys had been out fixing the roof on the barn since dawn.  It had been leaking for months and Jolene had finally gotten the boys to fix it after pestering them for quite some time.
         The morning sun beat down on Cecil’s bare back as he pounded nails into the roof tiles that his brother Edgar handed up to him from the ladder.  Edgar had been training with the village’s Prefecht for the past three years, so his days were filled with training exercises at the village temple, and that left most of the day-to-day work around the Strife farm to Cecil.  Cecil respected Edgar’s decision to train and become a Prefecht; however he did not think that he himself could lead the life.  Cecil did not consider himself to be a very “holy” person, and life in a temple did not appeal to him all that much.
         “Come on down Cecil,” Edgar called up to his brother after hearing his mother’s shouts, “It’s time for breakfast.”
         Cecil stood up on the roof and stretched his back.  He could feel the warmth of the sun darkening his skin.  He grabbed the sides of the ladder leaning against the side of the barn and slid down to the ground with a thump.  He and Edgar made their way up the gravel path between the barn and the house, shoving each other as they raced ahead, each trying to be the first one back.
         “Take your boots off on the porch,” Jolene said to her sons as she placed a pitcher of milk on the kitchen table, “I do not want to have to scrub the kitchen floor again.”  The two boys and their mother sat down at the table and began to scoop spoonfuls of porridge with raisins into carved wooden bowls.
         “I have to go to the temple after breakfast Cecil,” Edgar said as he ripped a piece of cinnamon bread from the loaf that his mother had baked.  “Prefecht Kim-Rii says that I am nearing the end of my training.  It should not be long before I can go to Indrian to stand before the Prefecht High Council and take my final tests.”  The High Temple in Indrian had been conducting the tests for Prefechts for the past two centuries, ever since the Duroth had destroyed the old High Temple in Rhine and taken control of the city.  Countless numbers of Prefecht teachings and writings were lost when Rhine fell to the Duroth, so copies of all important works of the Prefechts are now stored in vaults and temples in various cities and villages from coast to coast.  Generation after generation of Prefechts had trained and tested there, and Edgar planned to do so as well so that he may take over as Prefecht in Rovallia once Kim-Rii decided to step down.
         Cecil and Edgar’s home town of Rovallia was a small village.  The type of place where everyone knew everyone else, and most people married someone else from the village and lived out there entire lives there.  Most of the villagers were farmers, with family farms that were passed down from generation to generation.  Of course there were also carpenters, artisans, merchants, blacksmiths, whitesmiths, and any sort of profession that a man could support a family with in the village, but by and large the population of Rovallia was comprised of farmers.  The village itself was also known for the high quality swords that the blacksmiths made.  Ansil Andorr was the village’s master blacksmith and his family had passed down the secret of forging Rovallian steel into swords from father to son, master to apprentice, for generations.  Master Ansil was known in lands both near and far for his skill in crafting swords.  People would pay three times as much for an Andorr blade as they would for a sword forged by anyone else.  He was arguably the most skilled sword- smith from the Corrineth Ocean to the Misted Mountains.
         “Make sure that you are not getting in over your head, Edgar,” Jolene lectured to her son as she cleaned up after the morning meal, “Do not take the tests in Indrian until you are fully prepared.”
         “Don’t worry Mother, I have been preparing for this for years, and Kim-Rii would not let me make the journey unless I was ready,” Edgar reassured her.  “I have to get going.  The Prefecht is waiting for me to begin today’s lessons.  I will see the both of you for supper later on this evening.”
         “Thank you for helping me with the barn this morning,” Cecil said, slapping Edgar on the back.  He gathered up the now empty wooden bowls and spoons and placed them in the wash basin for his mother.  He gave her a loving kiss on the forehead and turned to head back out to his day’s work.  “I am going to go and finish patching the roof.”
         Cecil and Edgar left their mother to her cleaning and headed out of the house, Cecil around back to the barn and Edgar into the village towards the temple.  The boys’ father, Davrim Strife, had passed away last winter after falling ill and catching a fever, and both Cecil and Edgar had taken to looking after their mother and the family farm since then.  Davrim Strife had been on the Village Council before he passed away and the entire village had mourned his passing, not just the Strife family.  Davrim was a very prominent figure in village politics, and he was seen by most as a middle-man of sorts.  He was the man that people took their disagreements to, and he was usually able to negotiate a compromise between both parties that was agreeable to all.  On top of that, Davrim Strife was also a renowned blade master and had taught both of his sons how to handle a sword beginning with their fifth naming day.  The lessons were primarily for the boys’ self-defense; Davrim did not want his sons to lead a dangerous and violent life as he had before he met Jolene and settled down to start a family.  They did, however, need to know how to protect themselves and their family.  Needless to say, Cecil and Edgar were both skilled in handling a blade after training with their father.
         Edgar strolled leisurely down the packed dirt road that led from the Strife farmstead into the village, whistling a tune to himself that his father used to play on his flute for Cecil and himself once the boys had finished their chores when they were children.  His father had called the tune The Mouse and the Sparrow, though it was a common tune in many villages, and every village had their own name for it.  The Empty Wishing Well, One Lonely Shoemaker, and The Sun Rises Over the Misted Mountains were just a few names that that particular tune was known by.  Cecil and Edgar had both enjoyed listening to their father play his flute, and Davrim had taught them both how to play.  Cecil was the one with the real musical talent, though.  Edgar just played a bit for his own amusement.  Cecil had even played his father’s flute at his funeral; a tune called The Day’s Last Light, though neither of them had played anything at all since that day.
         The Village Square was already bustling with people out and about on their daily business and errands.  Fisherman stood behind tables covered with that morning’s catch, calling out what they had caught and the deals they were offering as people passed by.  Tailors stood beside people they had enlisted to be models for their intricately embroidered silk coats, dresses, and breeches, attempting to yell out the deals that they were offering over the calls of the fishermen.  The tailors also sold the plain woolen garments that were favored by the people of Rovallia, clothing that would last years without showing wear and tear.  Jewelers held up case after case of earrings, necklaces, bracelets, signet rings, and any other sort of sparkling adornment worn by well to do people.  Butchers sliced cuts of meats to order and sold them wrapped up in pieces of parchment.  Farmers stood beside ox-drawn carts with the various fruits and vegetables they had harvested, taking up a good two thirds of the Village Square.  The general assortment of merchants and carts and wagons made up the Rovallian Market.  In the center of the Square stood a great marble statue of a falcon in flight with a sword gripped in its talons.  It was called The Wings of Light by the people of Rovallia.  It was the symbol of their village and great source of pride for those who lived there.
         Edgar passed through the square and around a hillside as the temple appeared out of the tree line.  A great mass of pale towers surrounding a wide, open-air circular structure in the middle of the grounds made up the Rovallian Temple.  Along with being a place for healing and worship, the towers housed a great library.  Scholars from the surrounding lands came to study the numerous books and scrolls that were contained within every day.  It was where Edgar had spent the last four years training to be a Prefecht.  He entered the temple grounds, walking past two of the Temple Watchers who bowed slightly to him as he crossed into the Great Hall of the Temple.
         White marble plinths lined the curved walls of the Great Hall.  Various aesthetically pleasing objects sat atop the plinths, from bowls of fruit made from wax to statuettes, vases, and other intricately carved wooden pieces.  Behind each marble plinth was an oil stand lamp standing in front of a piece of mirror-polished brass.  The brass reflected the light from the stand lamps throughout the Great Hall, casting a glow that left those walking through the Great Hall for the first time awestruck.  Edgar walked along the curving walls of the hall to the enormous carved oak doors to the Training Center.  He pulled open both doors and stepped onto the loose dirt floor that covered the entire area encircled by the Great Hall.  Edgar had spent countless hours on that dirt floor practicing the skills necessary to become the next Prefecht of Rovallia.  Kim-Rii sat cross-legged in the dirt in front of the massive stone altar which dominated the northern most side of the Training Center.  Hands on his knees and eyes closed, Kim-Rii was meditating.  Edgar walked over to him, standing quietly behind him so as not to disturb his meditation, and waited for Kim-Rii to acknowledge him.
         “Today is an important day for you, Da’Edgar,” Kim-Rii said softly without opening his eyes or moving a muscle from his meditative stance.  Apprentice Prefechts had the title Da’ in front of their name up until they passed their final tests in Indrian.  Only then was the title of Da’ removed and replaced by that of Prefecht.
         “Each and every day of my training is important in its own right, Shaa’ Kim-Rii,” Edgar said, kneeling down next to Kim-Rii in front of the altar.  Apprentice Prefechts called their masters, their mentors, Shaa’ as a term of respect and reverence.  It meant “Wise One” in the ancient tongue, a language all but lost to the ages.
         “So very true,” Kim-Rii said, laughing softly to himself. “This day, however, will truly be a day to remember for you.  This day, today, marks your last day of training at this temple.  Tomorrow morning you will begin your journey to Indrian where you will take your final tests.  I have given you everything that you need to become a Prefecht; to become the next Prefecht of Rovallia.”  Kim-Rii opened his eyes and stood up.  He held out his hand to Edgar, who took it in his own as he stood up.
         “What of the rest of today then, Shaa’ Kim-Rii?” Edgar asked.  He was excited to be taking his final tests and to no longer be an apprentice Prefecht, yet he was also dispirited over no longer training and spending his days with Kim-Rii.  Kim-Rii had truly been a mentor to Edgar, especially after the loss of his father.  He was sincerely going to miss studying under Kim-Rii as his apprentice.
         “Today my friend,” Kim-Rii said, laying his arm across Edgar’s shoulders as they crossed the Training Center, “Today we celebrate as old friends.  Today we toast the completion of your training.  Right now, at this moment, we are off to…” Kim-Rii trailed off as he dropped his arm from Edgar’s shoulders and stepped forward, staring at the sky.
         “Shaa’ Kim-Rii?” Edgar asked nervously, and then he felt what had disturbed his master.  He could feel massive amounts of power; great waves of Fire magic building, getting closer.
         “Duroth,” Kim-Rii whispered.
         “Sound the alarm!” Edgar shouted, weaving threads of bare magic through a piece of Spirit Stone that he wore on his belt.  The bare magic became Spirit magic after passing through the Spirit Stone and carried Edgar’s voice across the entire temple to the ears of all those inside.  The Temple Watchers, who were scattered around the temple grounds, scrambled to the Training Center where the alarm had originated from.  A piercing shriek echoed from the clouds and a draken, a winged reptilian creature with blood-red scales, shot out from the sky with its Duroth master riding on its back.  Draken were enormous creatures that served evil.  They were more like monsters out of children’s nightmares than animals.  Contrails of smoke and darkness trailed the draken as it landed in the Training Center with a deafening thud between Kim-Rii and Edgar.
         “Ah…the Prefecht,” the Duroth said smugly as he swung down out of the saddle on the back of his draken.  He tucked his black and red leather riding gauntlets into his belt behind his back and walked over to Kim-Rii.  “My name is Na-Loki and I came here for your Earth Stone.  Give it to me now and I will spare your lives, and leave your little village standing.  If you refuse…you do not want to refuse.”  Na-Loki was clad in worn black and red leather armor covered in black metal chain mail.  A skin tight black cloth covered his entire head, yet he could still see through it somehow.  A jagged black sword hung in a scabbard on his belt with a fist sized red Fire Stone worked into the hilt.  Na-Loki wove magic through the Fire Stone and flames swirled around his arms.  The sound of heavy footsteps made him turn his head towards the doors to the Great Hall just as it burst open and Temple Watchers began pouring into the Training Center.
         “You will take nothing from this temple Duroth!” Kim-Rii roared as he wove magic through the Spirit Stone that held his woolen cloak closed around his neck in preparation to fight Na-Loki.  The flames swirling around Na-Loki’s arms flared up and sped out into the column of Temple Watchers streaming through the doors.  Kim-Rii shot a beam of blinding white light from his Spirit Stone into the column of fire streaming from Na-Loki, and the two weaves of magic flashed into nothing.  All that was left of the column of Temple Watchers, however, was a few thin tendrils of smoke and slight shimmer in the air where they once stood. 
         “I am impressed, Prefecht,” Na-Loki said, a bit surprised as he eyed Kim-Rii up and down.  “What is your name?  I should like to be able to tell people which Prefecht I cut down here today.”
         “I am Kim-Rii, Prefecht of Rovallia, and I will not allow you to destroy this village!” Kim-Rii proclaimed, weaving threads of magic through his Spirit Stone to make a great shimmering dome of Spirit magic shielding Edgar and himself.
         “Oh how wrong you are Prefecht Kim-Rii,” Na-Loki sneered back.  “I am going to take your Earth Stone from you and then I am going to burn your temple and your village to the ground.  I can feel the power of the Earth Stone and I will have it for my own!”  Na-Loki drew his sword and raised it high above his head.  Above the Fire Stone that was worked into the hilt was a Water Stone that was worked into the blade.  The scabbard at his belt had hidden the Water Stone from view until the sword was unsheathed.  Na-Loki wove magic through both the Fire Stone and the Water Stone and a wave of fire rose up from the dirt and towered over Kim-Rii and Edgar.  It came crashing down with a thunderous boom atop the dome of Spirit magic that Kim-Rii had woven and flowed down the sides around the Prefecht and his apprentice.  Kim-Rii stumbled backwards from the force of the blow, but the dome held.  The immense wave of fire swept back up nearly twice as large as before and came crashing back down onto the dome of Spirit magic.  The dome shattered in the resulting explosion of magic, sending Kim-Rii and Edgar flying back and destroying parts of the Great Hall and Temple Libraries.  As Edgar faded into unconsciousness, he looked over to see Na-Loki plunge the blade of his sword into Kim-Rii’s chest and darkness swept over him.

         Cecil sat up on the roof of the barn and stretched his back.  He had been hunched over hammering in roof tiles since the morning meal.  He still had plenty of work to do around the farm; it would be time to harvest soon and there was still a lot of preparation to be done.  As he began to reach back for his hammer, a bright flash of light followed by a loud, thunderous crash caught Cecil’s attention.  That came from near the Temple, he thought.  That can’t be good…  He stood up and looked towards the Temple, its pale peaks rising up out through the tree line.  Another, brighter blast of light flashed up from the Temple and an explosive boom knocked Cecil back a step.  Edgar!  He thought frantically and slid down the roof to the ladder.  He swung around and slid down to the ground.  At a dead sprint, he crashed through the front door of the house as another thunderous crash rang out behind him.  Jolene came running down the stairs with Davrim’s sword and sword belt, and Cecil blocked her off at the foot of the stairs.
         “Mother, it’s too dangerous.  We don’t even know what’s happened,” Cecil said as he grabbed the bundle in his mother’s arms.  “Let me go.  Edgar might need my help.”
         “Be careful,” Jolene sobbed, “Go help your brother…but don’t…I mean, I can’t lose…”  A lump stuck in her throat and she couldn’t speak.
         “I know,” Cecil comforted her, hugging her tightly, “I know.”  He took the sword belt and fastened it around his waist as he dashed through the house and out of the front door.  He bounded down the steps and onto the dirt road into the Village Square.  Cecil ran past scared and confused looking people as he past through the Rovallian Market and rounded the hilltop that marked the beginning of the Temple grounds.  Thick, black smoke had begun to billow up out of the tree line and the faint glow of fire was visible in the air.  He could see some of the towers on fire and a portion of the Great Hall that was nothing but a pile of rubble as he crossed the grounds of the Temple and crashed through the door to the Great Hall.  Smoke drifted throughout the hall, and a few tapestries had caught fire from knocked over stand lamps.  Cecil quietly drew his sword and began stalking along the wall towards the carved oak doors of the Training Center that lay toppled and cracked in front of the opening.  He had come to watch Edgar train here many times, so Cecil knew his way around the Temple.  He climbed over the pieces of lumber and ducked behind a large chunk of the temple wall that had collapsed and come to rest next to the door to the Training Center.
         Edgar was lying on the dirt to Cecil’s left, bruised, burned, and not moving.  Prefecht Kim-Rii lie to his right surrounded by a large pool of blood.  A man in red and black armor stood beside a monstrous creature that Cecil recognized as a draken.  He had never seen one himself, but his father had fought with the Magi for many years before Edgar was born and he had told them of a few things he had seen.  Davrim Strife did not want to tell his boys about his fighting with the Magi, he didn’t want them to follow in his footsteps, but there were things that they needed to know for their own safety.  One of those things was that draken meant Duroth, and Duroth meant run.  Cecil had to get his brother first.  He watched as the draken slammed its spiked tail into a wall, bringing it tumbling down.  Na-Loki stepped over the pile of rubble and behind another wall.  Cecil seized the opportunity and sprinted over to his brother, sliding to a halt beside him.
         “Edgar!  It’s Cecil,” he said as he hoisted his brother up in both arms.  “Don’t worry…I will get you out of here.”  Cecil straightened up and turned towards the door just as Na-Loki stepped back out into the Training Center.
         “Where do you think you’re going with him, boy?” Na-Loki sneered.  Cecil  had a sword, but Na-Loki could not sense any Elemental Stones or any magic in him, so he was merely amused by his appearance.  Cecil eyed the distance between him and the door, and ducked behind a toppled earthen pillar with his brother still in his arms.  “That won’t protect you from me, boy,” Na-Loki laughed as he wove magic through his Fire Stone and hurled a column of flames towards the mound of earth shielding Cecil and Edgar.
         As the flames left Na-Loki’s outstretched arms, the air beside the stone altar shimmered and rippled like a rock thrown into a calm pond and a man wearing a brightly polished white armored breast plate stepped out of thin air.  Worked into the middle of the armor was a large, shining white stone.  Cecil recognized the armor as Magi armor a mere moment before he saw the wall of flames speeding towards him and Edgar.  No!  I will not let you kill him!  Cecil thought furiously and a great rush of power flooded through his body.  He had never felt anything like it before.  The power rushed through his body and into the mound of earth lying in front of him.  The ground rumbled and the mound of earth rose up into an earthen wall as tall as the walls of the Great Hall just as the column of flames slammed into it.  The two exploded together in a blazing flash of light and the column of fire disappeared while the wall of earth crumbled and fell to the floor of the Training Center, coming to rest as a large pile of dirt in front of Cecil and Edgar.
         “Impossible!” Na-Loki screamed wildly.  “You couldn’t have…”  He trailed off as he finally caught sight of the man who had stepped out of thin air.  “K’kar!  I should have known!”  Na-Loki wove magic through the Water Stone in his sword and a tidal wave rose from the ground and sped towards the man he called K’kar.  The air surrounding the man turned slightly opaque, and when the wave crashed down on him it split off to either side instead of slamming in to him.  While the water was still falling around K’kar, Na-Loki jumped onto the saddle strapped onto the back of the draken and the pair soared up into the air towards the horizon.  By the time all the water had passed by K’kar, Na-Loki and his draken were just a dark spot in the sky.  K’kar frowned watching Na-Loki fly away, then immediately turned and walked over to Cecil.
         “Are you boys ok?  Are you hurt?”  K’kar asked as he knelt down next to Cecil and Edgar.
         “My brother, he’s hurt,” Cecil said, looking up hopefully at the Magi.  “Can you help him?”
         “I don’t know if I can heal his wounds,” K’kar said while rolling Edgar onto his back and placing his hand atop Edgar’s forehead, “But I will do everything that I can.”  A white glow surrounded both Edgar and K’kar and grew brighter for a moment before fading away.  “I have stopped the bleeding, but I still need to tend to his wounds.  He needs much rest, but he will live.  We need to get him somewhere he will not be disturbed.”
         “Thank you,” Cecil whispered, choking back a sob.  He thought that he had lost his brother.  “Thank you.  We are in your debt, sir.  My name is Cecil Strife, and this is my brother Edgar.  What may I call you?”
         “My name is K’kar, Magi of the Wind,” K’kar said as he stood up and walked over to the spot where the earthen wall had appeared.  Sitting atop the mound of earth that was left was a bright green stone the size of a fist that Cecil had not seen until K’kar picked it up.  “Take this with you and protect it.  It is an Elemental Stone, an Earth Stone to be precise.”  He handed the stone over to Cecil who gripped it lightly and stared up at K’kar.
         “Why me?” Cecil asked, “Why are you giving this to me to protect?” 
         “Because it is yours,” K’kar responded to a bewildered looking Cecil.  “We have much to discuss, but right now we need to get your brother out of here.  Is there somewhere we can take him?”
         “Our house is just down the road from here,” Cecil said, feeling very confused.  “What did you mean ‘Because it is yours?’”
         “As I said before, we have much to discuss,” K’kar said as he wove a small amount a magic through the Air Stone worked into his armor and an invisible board of air lifted Edgar up to chest height.  “Now, lead the way to your house and we will settle your brother in and discuss your training with magic.”  Cecil was stunned.  He did not know what to say to that so he simply stood up, slipped the Earth Stone into the pouch hanging off of his sword belt, and led the way out of the Temple to the Strife farmstead.
K’kar and Cecil kept their guard up as they made their way through the Village Square with a bruised and battered Edgar floating in front of them.  Prior to Na-Loki’s attack the Village Square had been bustling with people going about their every day business.  The first thunderous crash and explosion stopped the villagers of Rovallia in their tracks and turned the focus of their attention towards the Temple.  The second had sent them running for the cover of their homes.  The Village Square was now empty except for a few stray dogs eating whole loafs of bread off of a merchant’s cart.  Most of the merchants in the Square had gathered up their goods and taken their carts along with them when they fled, but a few had been so frightened that they had left their carts still laden with goods sitting open and unattended where they had set them up that morning.  The silence in the Square was broken only by the sound of K’kar and Cecil’s boots clicking on the paving stones that covered the road.  The pair continued on in silence through the streets of Rovallia all the way up to the front steps of the Strife home.  Jolene, who had been keeping watch for her sons from her sitting room, came running out of the house and bounding down the porch steps as soon as she caught sight of the Magi and her sons coming down the road.
         “Edgar!” Jolene cried as she rushed out to meet her sons.  “Cecil, what happened?  Who did this?”  Jolene laid a hand gently on Edgar’s chest, reaching out to reassure herself that he was still breathing.  It wasn’t until she felt the slight movement of Edgar’s chest from his shallow breaths that she herself exhaled and realized that she had been holding her breath.  It was at that moment as well that she realized that Edgar was floating in midair on nothing at all.  Immediately after that realization she noticed K’kar.  She also recognized his armor as that of the Magi from back when her husband, Davrim, had fought alongside them.  “Thank you Magi…Thank you for bringing my son home to me.  My name is Jolene Strife, and if there is anything that we can ever do for you…”
         “That is not necessary,” K’kar said as he and Cecil moved Edgar up the front steps of the porch and into the Strife home.  “I showed up after all had been said and done.  It was actually young Cecil here who protected your son from the Duroth who attacked the temple.”
         “Duroth…how did he…I mean…how could he…?” Jolene stammered, not quite able to get her words out in one complete and coherent sentence.
         “I will explain everything shortly,” K’kar interjected, “Right now, however, we have to get Edgar here to a place where I can bandage his wounds and he can rest.”
         “Let’s bring him upstairs,” Cecil said as he stepped passed a bewildered looking Jolene toward the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the upper level of the Strife house.  K’kar followed behind him, moving Edgar along on his gurney of air.  Jolene walked over to the cupboard in the kitchen where she kept a small wooden box containing supplies for treating injuries.  It wasn’t much, just a few rolls of cotton gauze and a thick yellow paste meant to protect against infection, but it was better than nothing.  Grabbing the box and shutting the cupboard door, she hurried up the stairs behind the Magi and her sons.
         Cecil led K’kar to Edgar’s bedroom and pulled the sheets and comforter off of his bed.  K’kar moved Edgar over to his bed and made the board of air that was holding him suspended in the air disappear and he gently dropped the inch or so onto his bed.  As he landed on the goose-feather bed, Edgar gave a slight moan.  Jolene stepped into the room from the hallway, handed the wooden box to K’kar, and took a watchful stance over her eldest son.  Flipping open the lid of the box, K’kar removed the rolls of gauze and left the ointment inside.  He set the box down on the nightstand next to the bed and pulled a jar half filled with a reddish liquid out from the small leather pouch that hung from his belt.  He unscrewed the lid of the jar and placed a roll of gauze inside, then set it down to allow the gauze to soak up the liquid.  K’kar pulled a dagger from its sheath which hung in front of the small leather bag and cut Edgar’s shirt off of him.  His chest, back, and sides were covered in gashes caked in dried blood.
         “Jolene,” K’kar said as he turned away from Edgar, “I need a pot of hot water and clean rags to clean him up.”
         “Ok, I will be right back,” Jolene said, turning and walking out of the room and down the stairs into the kitchen to put a pot of water on the stove to boil.  While she was ripping up a linen sheet into strips for rags, K’kar began to prepare a mixture of powders and pastes in a small wooden bowl.  All of the supplies he used were stored in the small leather pouch the hung from his belt that was by far too small to hold everything that K’kar pulled out of it.  Cecil thought that the pouch must use some sort of magic, but he figured that now was not the time to ask about it as K’kar was focused intently on mixing together the foul smelling concoction in the wooden bowl.  K’kar smelled the mixture and gave it a satisfied look.  Apparently it was good that it smelled like a week old dead fish.  Jolene came walking back into the bedroom with an iron pot full of steaming water in one hand and a pile of neatly folded rags in the other.  She handed them both to K’kar, who silently began to clean the dried blood from Edgar’s wounds.  He smeared a bit of the foul smelling paste he had mixed up into each wound as he cleaned them.  Once all of his wounds had been treated with the paste, K’kar pulled the gauze out of the now empty jar and began to wrap his entire chest.  He pulled the gauze tight and tied it off at the end so that it would not slip, then laid Edgar back down on the bed to rest.
         “The ointments that I applied will prevent infection and help his wounds to heal faster,” K’kar told Jolene as he put his supplies back into his magical leather pouch.  He then pulled out two more jars of the reddish liquid from the pouch and handed them to her.  “He is going to need plenty of rest and fluids over the next week or so.  Every three days you need to place a roll of gauze into one of these jars until it soaks up all of the liquid.  Then remove the gauze that he is wrapped in now and wrap him in the fresh roll.  He should be up and about in a few days, but for now, he needs his rest.”
         “Thank you so very much.  Can I fix you something to eat?  You must be hungry after everything that you have been through…I’m sorry, I never caught your name,” Jolene said as she led K’kar and Cecil down the stairs and into the kitchen.
         “My name is K’kar, Magi of the Wind,” K’kar informed her as the three of them sat down at the kitchen table.  “Your son, Edgar, needs much rest, but I believe that he will make a full recovery.  The man who attacked him was Na-Loki, a very powerful Duroth that I have been hunting for some time now.  He came to Rovallia looking for an Elemental Stone, an Earth Elemental Stone to be precise, and if it wasn’t for Cecil here I believe that he would have succeeded in obtaining it.  During the attack Cecil discovered his ability to work magic, and his ability is substantial.  I would like Cecil to come with me to Cantori in order to train with the Magi at the Tower of the Elements.  I believe that he has the potential to become a very powerful Magi if given the proper training and guidance.  Besides, I do not believe that it is safe for Cecil to remain in Rovallia.  Na-Loki now knows that he has an Earth Elemental Stone, and he will come after it and Cecil.  He will be safest with the Magi.  The Duroth will not risk an all-out attack on the Tower in order to obtain one Elemental Stone.”  K’kar did not go into further detail about how exceptionally strong Cecil was to fend off an attack from a Duroth with no training in magic, nor did he tell her what lengths the Duroth would go to in order to get someone with Cecil’s raw power to join them.  Jolene was worried enough about Edgar nearly getting killed without K’kar making her concerns about her youngest son even worse.
         Jolene swallowed hard as she let K’kar’s words sink in.  She did not want either of her sons getting involved in the ongoing war between the Magi and the Duroth, however K’kar was right.  The safest place for Cecil would be with the Magi, even if that meant that he would be fighting the Duroth himself.  At least the Magi would protect him while he trained, and he would be better able to protect himself upon completion of his training.  Jolene looked across the table at Cecil, who was staring at the pale green stone he held in his hand.  That must be the Elemental Stone Jolene thought.
         “K’kar is right Cecil,” Jolene told her son, fighting back the stab of regret she felt in her chest.  “You must go with him.  It is the only way that you will be safe.  The Duroth will come for you and the stone, and the only way they will stop is if you are protected by the Magi.  Your father and I never told you but he once trained with the Magi.  He too could use magic.”
         “What?  Why didn’t you…I mean, how come you never told us?”  Cecil asked.  His head was swirling.  When he awoke that morning he had no idea that his life was going to take such a wild turn today.  It was an awful lot to absorb in a very short time.
         “We had hoped that neither you nor your brother would be able to use magic,” Jolene explained.  She had always feared that this day, this conversation would come.  “I am not able to work magic, so we had hoped that you both would take after me.  We had hoped to keep you safe.  When I became pregnant with Edgar, your father and I decided that it would be best for our family if he did not become a Magi.  It was the only way that your father could be sure that the Duroth would not come after me or his children in order to get to him.  It turns out that they found their way to you and your brother anyway.”
         “What about you?  And Edgar?  I won’t just leave you here!”  Cecil said as he stood up and began to pace around the kitchen.
         “I will have a few Magi sent to bring your mother and brother to one of our safe houses,” K’kar told him.  He shifted his gaze from Cecil to Jolene, who somberly nodded her head, and back again.  “The Duroth will be looking for you, but they will first return here to Rovallia.  It would be best, for the time being, for your family to go somewhere where the Duroth will not know to look for them.  Edgar will not be well enough to travel for at least a few days, but I can have the Magi here by tomorrow morning and they will stay and protect them until Edgar can travel to the safe house.”
         “Where will they go?  How can you be sure that the Duroth will not find them at your safe house?”  Cecil asked.
         “Only the Magi who protect them will know the location of the safe house where they will take your mother and brother,” K’kar explained.  “Protecting people in danger from the Duroth is something that the Magi have been doing for as long as we have been fighting the Duroth.  There are Magi safe houses located in nearly every town and village between the Corrinthe Ocean and the Clouded Mountains, and only the Magi know where they are.  As another precaution, only the Magi who will be protecting your family and the High Seat himself will know which safe house they will be kept at.  The safest place for them now is under the protection of the Magi.”
         “How will I contact them if no one knows where they are?” Cecil asked.  He had slid the Elemental Stone back into the pouch hanging from his sword belt and gently fingered it through the soft, worn leather.
         “One of the Magi staying with your mother and brother will use the Travel Ways to give reports to the Tower every few days,” K’kar explained.  “You will be able to send and receive messages for your family through them.  At least for a while it will be safest for you to have no direct contact with them.  Once you are strong enough to use the Travel Ways yourself you will be able to go and see them whenever you wish.”
         “My family is the most important thing in the world to me, and I will do anything to protect them,” Cecil said as he halted his pacing and turned to face K’kar.  He exhaled slowly as he made his decision and let the full weight of it sink in.  “I will go with you to train to be a Magi, K’kar.  When do we leave?”
         “We leave at first light tomorrow,” K’kar told him.  “I have preparations to make for your family and for our journey.”
         “Will you stay with us tonight, K’kar?” Jolene asked the Magi.  “We have an extra bed that we keep made up for guests.”
         “Thank you for your generosity Jolene Strife,” K’kar said as he stood up from the table and gave her a slight bow.  “It would be my honor.  I must inform the Tower of what has occurred here today and gather supplies for our journey, but I will back by nightfall.”  Jolene rose from the table as well and returned K’kar’s bow.  Giving Cecil a quick glance and a nod, K’kar turned and walked out the front door of the Strife home.  Jolene stared blankly after him for a few moments before taking her son in her arms and hugging him tightly.  She sobbed ever so softly as tears dropped from her check onto Cecil’s shoulder.  It was quite sometime before she was able to stop crying and let her youngest son go.