Cries of a Wounded Soul

Chapter 4

"Leave us!" Obeus barked at the guards.

"But sir--" one of them protested.

"Leave us," he repeated, lowering his gray eyebrows.

With some reluctance, the guards retreated, closing the library door behind them. 

A hundred questions rolled in my mind, each competing to be first on my tongue. But before I could ask anything, Obeus pointed at a wooden chair in front of his desk. "Sit." Immediately, as the caned seat creaked under my weight, he asked, "Back to my original question. How did you get through the barrier? Only a powerful Mage could break through."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just passed by. It tickled a bit, though." Obeus leaned down, face to face, and narrowed his eyes. Lifting a sleeve, I displayed the Commoner mark given to me on my eighteenth birthday by an oracle. "I have no magic capability. See?"

"Hmm," he grunted in reply, tightening his lips. I jerked back as he placed a thumb on my eyelid, pulling it up. "Hold still," he commanded. After examining both eyes, he grunted again.

I shook my head. "I do not understand how Aria--"

Obeus interrupted, "Quiet yourself." Standing tall and extending arms outward, glowing blue threads of Magic swirled out from his hands, circling me in a slow wavering dance, then coming closer as if an embrace.

The Fury within me stirred from its slumber, jealously indignant at the imposition. Images of gray mist rising came to my mind, like smoke from smoldering embers. Those magical tendrils touching me dissolved into nothingness, consumed like tinder by the beast's fire. Lest the Fury erupt into raging flames, I closed my eyes, drew in deep measured breaths, and imagined a serene landscape. The Fury calmed, and as Obeus withdrew the Magic, fell back into stillness.

Obeus retreated to his desk chair and slumped down within it with a pensive glaze to his eyes. "What is your name?" he asked.

"Tomas, sir."

"And how does Aria speak with you?"

"In my dreams, as clearly as if she spoke in my ear."

"Well, Tomas, something mysterious lays within you. I know not what it is, but it abhors Magic." His eyes turned up to mine, projecting a kind of sadness, grief perhaps. "How does Aria fare? Does she suffer?"

"Yes," I replied, lowering my eyes. "She suffers." After a deep breath, I asked, "Was she your student?"

A single tear rolled down from the old man's eye, something I would not have expected based on previous demeanor. "Aria was more than a promising student. She is my daughter. I was there during the Sacrifice when she sealed herself up with that abomination. Just between the two of us, I called her my Willow Song. When you spoke those words, I knew the truth of your claim."

Obeus jumped up and stroked the tear aside. Scanning across the bookshelves, he selected an old leather-bound volume and blew a cloud of dust from it. He flipped the pages so furiously that I feared he would rip them. Stopping at a certain page, he ran a finger down lines of an ancient text I could not read. What knowledge did he seek? When I opened my mouth to speak, he silenced me with a raised hand.

Slamming the book shut, Obeus said, "Come. We go to the Oracle."

*****

The Oracle scowled at us from the doorway, drawing down a wrinkled brow. "What do you want, Obeus? It is late." Her sliver hair and the bottom hem of her white nightgown swayed in the night breeze. Oracles were revered in the kingdom, and despite her unprepared appearance, I could not help but feel awe.

"It is hardly three hours since sundown, Ilexa," he replied. "The night is young."

"Not for me," she grumbled. "Someday I may visit you at dawn."

"I need you to assess this young man."

Ilexa rolled her eyes. "Can it not wait until morning?"

Obeus locked eyes with the Oracle. "No, it cannot."

She sighed in resignation. "Then come in if you must."

She ushered us to a public area just inside the door, containing one cushioned chair and three worn wooden benches. Colorful beaded tapestries lined the cracked plaster walls. Two flickering candles on a table, and moonlight through a window provided faint light. At first disappearing through a curtained doorway, she returned wearing a blue robe with a red gem pendant swaying at her neck. A Blood Crystal, I presumed.

I sat on a bench where the Oracle pointed, then she dragged the chair closer, adding a few more scratches among countless others to the wooden plank floor. Ilexa leaned forward and gazed into my eyes while drawing down her eyebrows, close enough that the warmth of her breath crossed my cheeks. Obeus sat down beside me. Two of the most influential people in the Muirea Kingdom examined me, a commoner from a small common village, and I felt insignificant.

The Oracle fingered her crystal, stroking it. It did not glow, and I knew what that meant. She shook her head. "He is not Blood Born." After lifting my shirt sleeve to reveal the Commoner Mark, she frowned at Obeus. "But you already knew that. What do you really want, Obeus?"

"Look deeper," he replied.

Grumbling, Ilexa turned back to me, closing her eyes while softly stroking the red pendant. After a moment, a dull gray glow appeared in the gem, pulsing like a heartbeat. The Fury trembled, and with it, so did I. Incensed and indignant as always, but this time there was something else. Hunger. Be still, I commanded, but it would not listen, instead roiling with zealous primal desire.

No! It vaulted out, reaching toward the object of its desire.

Thin spiraling tendrils of gray smoke leaped from my hands in angry turbulence, letting out an eerie screech like that of a distant eagle. Vaporous talons swiped at the Blood Crystal, grabbing, squeezing, snatching. The Oracle snapped her eyes open and cried out in terror, tumbling backwards in the chair to fall on her back. The Blood Crystal shattered with a sharp crack, flinging fragments around the room. Obeus shielded his eyes from the shrapnel with a raised hand.

Apparently sated, the Fury retreated within me, returning to peaceful sleep. My heart pounded and my breath became heavy. Beads of moisture clung to my forehead.

Ilexa rolled to her knees. She picked up a shard of the Blood Crystal and examined it. Once deep red like a ruby, it now was colorless and cloudy like impure quartz. "What happened here?" she said, glaring directly at Obeus.

He glared in return. "You must tell no one of this. No one!"

"I am bound to the King, and so are you, Obeus. Defying him may shorten our lives."

"Especially not the King. You owe me, Ilexa. Swear an oath of silence to me!"

She paused a moment, then answered. "Very well, Obeus. I do so swear. I hope you know what you are doing." As he helped her rise to her feet, she said, "But you are indebted to replace my Blood Crystal."

Obeus nodded. "I shall arrange for another."

*****

As we returned to Obeus' residence, the way lit through the darkness by a glowing light that hovered above his outstretch palm, I said, "You never answered the Oracle's question. What happened? What is this Fury that dwells within me?"

"The Fury, you call it?" He grinned. "An apt name. Tomorrow, I want you to begin training with the other Mages."

I grasped Obeus' robe, stopping him. "I made an oath to Aria to help her. Why can't we go to her now? Won't your Magic set her free?"

"If only I could," he mumbled, lowering his eyes. "To help her, you must learn to wield this Fury, rather than letting it wield you."

I flung my head back and raised my voice. "I cannot become a Mage! No such capability have I. What would you have me do, mount a white horse in shining armor like some kind of legendary hero?"

"A hero? Oh, no," he replied. A sly grin crept onto his face. "To rescue Aria, you must become a villain."