Fireside Fluff #2: The Gift

What is Fireside Fluff?

Fireside Fluff is a recurring segment in which your humble author presents an original work of fiction set in the Kings of War universe. Each segment contains one chapter in the ongoing story. So pull up a chair, fill your mug with some heady Dwarven ale, and settle in for a tale quite unlike any you’ve heard before…

First time readers, welcome! Please start the story at the beginning:

Fireside Fluff #1: A Trick of the Light

The Gift

The Convent of the Word consisted of four modest wooden structures arranged in a rectangle, with a courtyard in the middle. The dormitory stood along the eastern edge. One long hallway ran down the center while two rows of identical rooms opened up on either side. Each room was furnished with a pair of beds and a single dresser, shared by the sisters that resided within. Not that this was a problem, as the girls were required to leave all possessions behind when they joined the order.

The southern building was home to the library, a place of quiet reflection frequented by the sisters during their scant free hours. A selection of religious, philosophical, and historical texts collected by Abbess Marion was available for perusal, as well as quills and parchment for composing letters, and plenty of cozy nooks in which to find solitude. Freya loved to sit by the window on the upper floor during storms, watching the wind and the rain and the lightning batter the landscape in tumultuous patterns.

Opposite the dormitory was the combination dining hall and recreation center. Currently, a feast was laid out in honor of Freya’s successful ordeal. Three long, rectangular tables had been draped in fresh white linens, plates and silverware were arranged just so, and covered platters were distributed throughout, emitting a pleasant, steaming aroma. It was only on rare occasions that the sisters were allowed to eat to such excess. Food was not scarce in the convent, but as Abbess Marion liked to remind them, “wasteful meal, wasteful body, wasteful mind.” As new initiates quickly found out, life in the Sisterhood was an exercise in austerity.

Though the feast was ready, none of the girls could yet enjoy it. They were gathered in the hall of worship, the largest of the four buildings, which pointed due north. Though unassuming on the outside, the interior of the hall displayed an impressive work of architecture. The vaulted ceiling rose twenty feet above the floor, with exposed cross beams of superior form and function. The walls were unadorned, allowing sunlight from tall windows to fill the hall with natural beauty.

The sisters were divided into six rows, sitting with perfect posture on wooden benches, listening intently to the Abbess as she delivered the evening sermon from the raised platform at the front of the hall. Small tables flanked the Abbess, which held an assortment of candles and incense of religious significance, giving the air a slightly hazy quality.

“Dearest sisters, close your eyes and listen.” The Abbess spoke softly. The sisters did as they were bidden. “Take a slow, deep breath, and listen. Breathe in through the nose, hold it for a moment, then out through the mouth, and listen. With each out breath, release your thoughts, your emotions, the incessant chattering of your brain, and listen.”

The Abbess remained silent for several minutes as the sounds of relaxed exhalations echoed throughout the hall. The slightly pungent fragrance of the incense had a calming effect. Freya was dimly aware of her body swaying gently back and forth as she focused on her breathing. Marion continued.

“Listen not with your mind, not with your heart, but with your soul. Allow the spiritual energy that flows through this sacred hall to flow through you. Continue to breathe. Listen.”

Freya slipped deeper into herself, as if in a dream. The cuts and bruises acquired during the ordeal, which had pressed so acutely on her senses only moments before, vanished entirely. She was no longer cognizant of her surroundings. A warm glow, the same as when her blood pulsed brightly upon the ground, appeared at the center of her being. It was a foreign sensation, yet somehow familiar, like scratching an itch you never realized you had. It started as nothing more than a pinprick, then grew steadily, consuming her. She remained that way, in perfect serenity, for a long while.

***

When Freya came to, she did not know how much time had passed. The sky had darkened and the air was thick with incense. Her body ached, but with noticeably less intensity than before. Abbess Marion moved through the aisles in the pale flicker of candlelight, delicately rousing the girls from their trance. Quiet murmurs began to ripple through the hall as the Abbess returned to the platform.

“The voices you heard belonged to the Shining Ones.” The murmurs grew louder. “High upon their throne at the summit of Mount Kolosu, these divine beings guard the Hegemony with constant vigilance. In return, we offer them our complete and total devotion. Such was the pact that Bolisean, in his time of greatest need, made with Domivar. And such is the oath that we uphold today. Consider yourselves blessed. It is not often the Shining Ones communicate directly with their subjects. Indeed, it may prove to be a once in a lifetime event. Keep their words close to heart, for they will provide guidance in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. Rejoice in this honor. May the Shining Ones light your path.”

“May the Shining Ones light your path,” the sisters uttered in reply.

Troubled, Freya leaned in close to the sister on her left. At twelve years old, Agnes was among the youngest girls in the order. Despite being four years her senior, Freya had bonded with Agnes more than anyone else in the six months since she arrived at the convent. Having recently hit a growth spurt, Agnes was all limbs, with dark skin, springy curls, wide brown eyes, and a vibrant smile. She had a cheerful personality to match, which was more than could be said for many of the sisters.

“Agnes,” Freya whispered. “Did the Shining Ones speak to you?”

“Oh yes,” Agnes bubbled, “they said the most wonderful things!”

Freya’s brows furrowed. Had they spoken to everyone? Before she could investigate further, the Abbess interjected.

“Let us retire to the dining hall. A feast awaits!”

The girls rose and began to file out the back, excitement buzzing in the air. Freya, however, was riddled with anxiety. She did not know what she had seen in the forest. She did not know what had happened at the end of the ordeal. She did not know why the Shining Ones hadn’t spoken to her as they did the other girls. She waited for the rest of her sisters to pass, then silently trudged toward the door in the back of the line. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun.

“Freya,” the Abbess addressed her with searching eyes. “A word, please.”

Freya’s heart sank. She’s going to expel me, she thought frantically. She knows that I cheated in the ordeal. The Shining Ones have forsaken me and now I’m being kicked out!

The Abbess took Freya’s hand and led her to a bench as her thoughts continued racing. I can’t go back home. How will I ever face my mother, now? I’ve brought shame to the memory of my father. I’ve failed my family. I’ve failed myself. I’ve failed the Hegemony. I can’t…

“I’ll get right to the point. What you did during the ordeal was…”

Oh no! Here it comes, Freya grimaced.

“…impressive. Tell me, when did you start showing signs of the gift?”

This was not the conversation Freya was expecting, and it did nothing to allay her confusion. “The gift?” she offered tentatively.

“Why, yes, child. The gift of magic. You are sixteen, aren’t you? That is when most prospective mages come into their talent. More than a few girls who have passed through my care have received the gift. I must say, your aptitude for earth magic seems very promising.”

Of course, Freya had heard stories of war wizards and priests who wielded arcane forces on the field of battle, laying waste to their foes and offering strength to their allies. But she had never met one, had never seen magic being performed and had never considered the possibility that she might possess such a talent herself. The shock was written plainly on her face.

“Oh, I see,” the Abbess put a reassuring hand on Freya’s shoulder. “It was your first experience. Hardly a surprise. Magical talent tends to manifest when one’s emotions are heightened.”

Marion let a comfortable silence hang between them for a few minutes while Freya processed her words.

“We should get to the feast. It is being held in your honor, after all, and we shan’t spoil your enjoyment. We can discuss this matter later. For now, you should know that the Shining Ones have opened an alternative path for you. There is a place for you here in the Sisterhood, as you so convincingly proved earlier today. But, there is also a place for you among the order of wizards, should you so desire. I have contacts at the colleges of magic in the City of the Golden Horn. I could put in a word for you.”

“No,” Freya replied so forcefully that it surprised even herself. Magic or no magic, the City of the Golden Horn was a place to which she did not wish to return. Not now, not ever. “No,” she repeated more evenly, bowing her head. “I mean, I appreciate the offer, Abbess Marion. I do. But my obligation remains here at the convent.”

“As I said,” the Abbess looked at her with those same, searching eyes. “We can discuss this later. Give it some time before you reach a decision. Reflect on the words offered to you by the Shining Ones. Come along.”

As they got up to leave, a weight settled in the pit of Freya’s stomach. What words, she thought miserably.