The Awakening Wave

Chap 5 - SEEKERS ROAD

Nick allowed himself to be led into the evening, his senses taking in no detail at all. His head still swam in a fog. After recovering from his faint, he and Elder Tam had had a long discussion. Some of his questions had been answered, new questions had arisen, and some of what the Elder had said made no sense at all.

Nick had not been the most precise or accurate of the contestants, but he was declared the winner anyway. It seemed that he had done something that had not been achieved in hundreds of years. According to Tam, the whole point of the recital was to bring forth arcane energies, and demonstrate control over them. It was a display of magic. Nick knew that this was just ludicrous. Magic was just make believe, but what were those lights?

He should have been overjoyed, he was the winner, and he would never go hungry again. Food was the last thing on Nicks mind now. He had to fight off nausea with every step he took at Elder Tam's side. Without the sturdy presence of the old man, Nick would have collapsed in a numb pile of confused sickness.

Slowly the fog in his mind lifted as if a sickness had been cured by one of the Elder women's amazing potions. He was surprised to realise that he and his guide had stopped just inside of a large ring of murmuring people. Opposite, also just inside the circle, stood Elder Maeve and her niece Niamh.

Movement to his right caused Nick to glance, the crowd parted before the towering black bearded figure of Elder Connor and his charge. A smile came to his lips, Alex was being led into what Nick now guessed was the winners circle.

In curiosity Nick looked left. The space was occupied by a lone Elder with a long drooping blond moustache he did not recognise, no victor of the musical competition stood with him. The Nausea was pushed aside by feelings of joy, only this time he knew their cause. He had truly done it, he was a celebrated champion of the Celti people, or at least would be after the formalities were completed.

"I present to you, by right of conquest, Alex Hawkesbury. Champion of fists, and Guardian of the Seekers." The words boomed with formality from the bearded giant's mouth. Connor then gave Alex a gentle nudge, urging the half-cast to step towards the middle of the ring. A loud cheer erupted from the gathering. Nick could not help but smile in congratulation for this boy he hardly knew. Standing in the midst of the tumultuous celebrations, Alex looked as bewildered as Nick felt, his eyes wide with shock.

As the noise ebbed and flowed, Nick overheard some people talking behind him. "Must be from good Petrosian stock that one. Fought bravely and with honour." Nick ignored the implied insult to a Celti lack of honour, and paid more attention to the makeup of the crowd.

They were mixed, and not in the usual way. Instead of forming their own select groups, Celti and Petrosian were standing side by side, all cheering the same person. Hundreds of years of hatred forgotten in a moment.

Each side seemed to be claiming the cultural heritage of the winner. Where once this half-cast was hated and derided by both groups, now he seemed loved by both. The implications were staggering. Nick looked about to see if anyone else had noticed what was happening. All others seemed caught up in the fervour, until his eyes locked with Connor's.

Behind the giant's thick black beard sparkled eyes in deep thought and a question. Without words he seemed to be asking Nick 'what do you think will come of this?' Nick searched the crowd for a reply, this time he spotted Niamh and got his answer. She was staring straight at Alex, hatred clearly written on her beautiful face.

'Nothing would come of this, it will be forgotten, while old hurts will not.' With a sad look on his face, he returned his gaze to Connor. The big man had already looked away, no doubt making his own conclusions.