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Shanna Mawavise 

The Induction

It was a calm and lazy day at the Nerrovar School, the campus looked more like a resort than a school of war with the cadets laying around sunning themselves or playing games. Adula casually sauntered back to her bungalow. She, as always,was slightly rumpled in her uniform. It was the cut. Too straight to be practical, the legs of the pants and the sleeves too long for her. She reminded herself to order one that fit properly but her personal style was not quite right. Her sister told her to design her own but she did not see a need; at least not this day. It was the day after the graduation of the first cadet class of Nerrovar. The School was one of many fighter training schools, such as the Ravencroft School of Corsairs in the ice-capped mountains of Ravencroft, Urhut Battlegrounds on the Forest Island in Padachah, Nav Launch School in Jeblen and Kellnus Academy in Spiathe, but with one difference; cadets here were trained in the Giagathai style. It is a rigorous eight cycle process of intensive training in the ways of Toya the Denizen of Skill by some of the most notable warriors in history. Adula excelled in Nerrovar despite what many people would call a handicap: she was a head shorter than everyone at the school. This was the cause of many fights because she did not like her acquired nickname, Runt. She hated the name so much that she was on a personal mission to thrash everyone who said it. Her mission today was to pack her belongings so that she could leave for her commission. She placed in the Imperial Guard of Chadizah, which was no small eat. Rejoicing in her accomplishment and cursing her clothing, she hurried happily back to the bungalow to see if her roommates, Wywavern and Gaylespan, were ready to leave. They all placed in the Imperial Guard and service to the High Guildmistress of Chadizah Lodiva Graze. She was the All-High Oracle of X, the Mighty Mortal, First Witch (whom people began calling Her All-That-Ness). his was a testament to the training at the Nerrovar School after being in operation only long enough to graduate one class. The Headmistresses of the school, Mistresses M, Di and D, were excruciatingly thorough in their teaching style; they answered the cadets whimpering whines for mercy with the crack of a whip. It paid off; the school’s top three students received the honor of the Chadizan guard; it was unprecedented. The Ravencroft School failed to ever place their graduates so high. The commission to the Guard was secondary, she knew she would get it; it was the fact that it was Chadizah, her birthplace, a city she had never really seen (she left when she was ten months old.) Chadizah, the City of Witches, was renowned as the most splendid city in the world; everybody said so. Adula just wanted to see for herself, unfortunately it seemed that every plan to go failed by some unforeseen force, namely homework. She and her friends did have one stop before they went to Chadizah; they had to go to Kyos to report to Adula’s sister Lunatis, the High Priestess of the Rock.

In her mind she was already in the city exploring so she did not notice the subtle bend in the breeze that signaled a presence. A twig snapped behind her and she turned quickly, ready to face whomever it may be. Not fast enough, her assailants covered her in a thick netting that put her instantly to sleep.
“I really thought we trained her better than that.” Mistress M said materializing and tying the net sack tight. “Especially with you making so much noise.”
“I snapped that twig on purpose. She was daydreaming. Just like you, Magenta. I blame you.” Said Mistress D. “Well, she’s ready, lets get her on her way.”

Hours later Adula awakened on a small battle launch, she knew this by the wind whizzing by the porthole. This one must have been someone’s yacht, a big yacht. She looked out and saw ocean far below her. At least it was the Eastern Sea. She could not be too far from Nerrovar, but escape would be tricky so far above the surface.
This launch was of an Agrippan design. She noted the solid wooden structure as though this vehicle grew out of the great tree intact. From that mere observation, she knew that she had to be in the Queen’s cabin. Ornately decorated with carvings telling stories of the reigns of the twelve Na’Asulek Queens, she paused a moment to admire the detail. Realizing that her captors had not tied her, Adula sat up, examined her surroundings and formulated an escape plan.
She was not injured, just a little groggy from the spell. A Na’Asulek living space is sparsely furnished; there was nothing to use as a weapon. “That’s okay,” she thought, “I’ll beat them with my bare hands.” She checked the door; unlocked. She slipped into the corridor and stealthily made her way topside. It was unusual that she encountered no guards along the way. She reached her destination and burst through the doors.
“Ah, glad to see you are awake. Would you like something to eat?” A calm voice said from behind her. Adula turned around throwing three quick punches her captor blocked effortlessly. She was a tall slender, yet solid Na’Asulek General. “There is fresh fish, baked to perfection.”“Why have you kidnapped me? I am Adula Zabadu! I am the
Charul of Kyos.” She said, covering her astonishment that there could
be anyone with faster hands than hers. Secretly she took the time to
make sure that no one she knew saw how easily her blows were
deflected.
“That is precisely why we’ve taken you, and we are your escort.” The General said. “You were delivered to us, not captured by us. Can I interest you in these Agrippan pastries?”“What is it you want? Money?” Adula charged. The General laughed. “Just relax...we’ll be in Agrippa soon. Have some of this cheese? It’s really good.”“Agrippa? Why am I being taken to Agrippa?” Adula demanded.
“I said relax. You won’t be harmed. Just enjoy the ride, not everyone travels in Her Majesty’s yacht,” the general said. “You have a meeting with Amaquaba. She sent for you, and she sent this food. Does this look like a feast for a prisoner or captive?” Adula huffed and looked at the immense banquet laid out before her for the first time; there were fruits and dishes from every part of the world and enough wine, whiskey and ale to stone an entire army.

“Amaquaba? I never asked for an audience.”
“That’s not how you get to meet the Dozenth Queen. As I said, she sent for you. Please, have something to eat. You really should eat these oysters before they get cold.”“Why did you kidnap me?” Adula asked honestly. “I wouldn’t turn down a meeting with her, not ever, I’m no fool.” A requested meeting with the High Librarian was in truth an order. Amaquaba, the sorceress who ruled Agrippa, rarely had audiences; she, in fact, was only available if she sent the summons. She was the voice of Sa’Obran on Lyantho and had no tolerance for delays of any kind.“There are those that do not need to know who has taken you or where you are being taken. Relax, Mighty One, Amaquaba will enlighten you.”

“Can you tell me who snatched me then?”Darr laughed. “Your Headmistresses. Mighty One, a lot has happened in the past few hours; the Amonu Empire has declared war against Chadizah. There is an army marching toward the Nerrovar School at this very moment.”
“Why wasn’t I informed?”
“It is your duty as cadet commander to remain there. Now please have something to eat, you must be starved.” Adula examined her willowy Na’Asulek captor: tall, deceptively slender, and pale skinned; her blond hair was straight with three thick braids.
Realizing that she could not escape if she needed to, she decided to find out everything she could about the crew of the launch. “I’ll relax, but on one condition; you and your soldiers will join me in this feast.” It took no time for the word to spread; the crew quickly sat around the table leaving the seat at the head for Adula. They waited for her to start and then began to eat and chat. Some were interested in the state of affairs in the Karoc Isles, but most of them seemed to be more interested in when Mt. Kellyurn would erupt again, apparently there were rumors. She casually inspected them.The Agrippans were an ebullient group of soldiers, seemingly too jovial to be real warriors, but from the medals and ribbons adorning them it was obvious that they were quite efficient. They wore dress uniforms, another sign that they were an escort, and kept their boots particularly pristine. The Na’Asulek wore their clan markers as amulets around their necks. She started with the general. Adula recognized the General’s instantly.” You are of the Silla clan?” she asked.
“I am Darr Na’Silla.” The general answered casually, she was more interested in the new fittings on the Chadizan Battle launch The Lance. She did not notice Adula gaping at her. Darr Na’Silla, General of the Agrippan guard, had the marks of Sa’Obran and Toya (or so history would have one believe). Darr was one of the great warriors she read about at school.
“Darr Na’Silla?” she thought aloud. “Are you really Darr Na’Silla? The one who fought in the Battle of Dragonsky?”
“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?” Darr asked smiling knowingly.
“I thought Darr Na’Silla was a myth.” Adula whispered accidentally.
“I am most obviously not a myth. I suppose that you feel foolish right now.”
“Sort of. I mean, what reason would I have to believe that you could be the same person? You’d have to be two hundred cycles old at least.”
“Two hundred and ninety two, to be precise. You do not believe. That’s very odd, being who you are.”
“What? I don’t know anybody that old.” Adula said. “That I don’t believe in fairy tales and myths shouldn’t be surprising. I believe that there is some basis of truth in... no, I don’t believe.” Adula said doubting her words for the first time. She never believed the stories that called her the Mighty One before; in fact, she did everything she could to dissuade everyone she met. In her mind, the Mighty One should be a tall and pristine warrior, more like this Darr Na’Silla.
It could not possibly be her. “Yet you are the Mighty One.”
“No, I’m not. My Sourcemother named me Adula, that’s all,” she stated defiantly.
“Let me give you a word of advice... Keep a very open mind, Mighty One. Amaquaba can be beguiling without trying.”
“Do you speak to her?”
“Yes, I am her protector.”
“Wow.” Adula was curious. “What does she look like? Does she really have rainbow eyes? Does she sleep all of the time?”
“Well there’s certainly no mistaking your Cavi’Asulek background.” Darr snickered at the barrage of questions she had no intention of answering. “Relax, the day of your enlightenment is here, but it won’t come from me.”
“What is going on?”
“The only thing I will tell you is that everything will change in a matter of a few hours. I, for one, truly hope that you are who they say you are.”
The rest of the time she conversed with the crew and answered the same question repeatedly: “Are you the Mighty One?” Her answer was: “My mother named me Adula.” They enjoyed the feast and sat chatting for three hours as the sun, Kay-Danmal, started to set. When they finished, Darr walked Adula back to her cabin. As they left the banquet table, she heard someone say “She’s very short for a Mighty One.” “A Mighty Runt,” someone else said. The comment would normally anger her and it did, but she realized that she had no chance brawling with these Na’Asulek soldiers.Upon returning to her cabin, she detected that her clothing and weapon were awaiting her. Adula sat quietly after Darr left. It finally hit her; Darr said that the Amonu Zabadu declared war on Chadizah.
It made no sense; there was no reason for any aggression between the two nations. An army was marching toward the Nerrovar School; she wondered if they knew. Adula decided that she would not worry about such things until she reached Agrippa. Aside from the abruptness of her abduction, the experience was not entirely unpleasant. She gazed out her window and wondered why the High Librarian wished to see her. Amaquaba was her aunt. Legend would have her believe that she was the same Amaquaba who had been the Keeper of the Tree since Lodiva Graze left Agrippa over a thousand cycles ago. There were stories of her apathetic attitude and short temper (Amaquaba was known to send people to the Oubliette of Agrippa for little or no reason), but they were stories after all. Just like the ones that called her the Sleeper; this was because her mission was to mind the Great Tree and nourish it with her knowledge, a task that the conscious mind could not accomplish. Stories, tales, myths and fables, just like the ones of her great-great-great grandmother who was alleged to be Lodiva Graze.Lodiva Graze was the mythical High Guildmistress of Chadizah, who built the even Cities by the sheer force of her will. The City of Witches, also called Chadizah was an impressive sight, breathtakingly beautiful, but the rest was an unbelievable tall tale. While Adula, having seen Chadizah and Agrippa before, truly believed that those cities must have been created by divine intervention, but she wouldn’t believe that one person, even a Cavi’Asulek sorceress, could have played such a major part in their invention. Again, stories, myths and fables told to scare children. If it was the same Lodiva Graze, she was incredibly old. Increasingly she questioned her history studies, the events that happened seemed out of proportion to what she believed to be reality. Adula was not like some of her friends who disbelieved in magic; her own experience informed her differently. Even at the school, Mistress M proved quite convincingly that she was a Witch of Chadizah. No, magic never was the issue, nor was it the readily available evidence of the wars that raped the surface of Lyantho. What Adula refused to believe was that she was the Mighty One. She hated it when people called her that; she did not believe that anyone could live up to the myth.

Adula met many, in fact, most of the heads of state including the High Talespinner and the High Smith (she was the Crown Princess of the Amonu Zabadu after all, that also an uncomfortable title for her.) The High Guildmistress of Chadizah was a mystery to her; she only knew what she looked like from pictures and portraits. She received gifts on her birthdays and all of the holidays from her. A note written in the Witches Cant and signed accompanied each one:
Adula,
My deepest love, stay frosty so we can meet.
-Lodiva Graze,
High Guildmistress and
Empress of Chadizah
Images of Lodiva depicted a young woman. She could not possibly be the same person.
Sunset in Agrippa is glorious: All of the colors of the rainbow splayed across the sky in a prismatic concert of light, a true tribute to the wonder of Thervan Kay-Danmal. The towering tree city in the center of the world stood a vertical mile and visible from great distances. At night, from its uppermost branches at night one could see Lyantho’s cities dotting the horizon: there could be no mistaking Mount Kellyurn to the east with its billowing white plume and molten orange glow, the cinder cone that held the Sa’Asulek capitol. To the south at night there was the glow of Jeblen with its mighty towers, and on a clear day one could just make out the ominous darkness that surrounded Bohabbilade even further south. To the west, in the trees of the Forest of Ankay the lights, like fires in the distance gave a window to the tree cities of Dechk, Druan, Verdin and Verdun; before them the city of Padachah’s sparkling lights twinkled in the sky. Yet far more glorious was the view of the City of Witches, which dazzled the eye like a crown of stars resting on the nighttime velvet of the Eastern Sea.
She heard the First Mate shout “Agrippa sight!” Moments later attendants came in, dressed her in the ceremonial armor of one of her ancestors, and said that they would dock at the city soon. She waited patiently in the uncomfortable metal suit.
The woman it fitted was a head and a half taller than Adula and three inches larger all around. She remembered why she cursed her clothing; she owned nothing suitable for formal audiences. She had robes, but no ceremonial armor. Now she looked out her porthole at the Tree and realized that she was about to meet the High Librarian in badly fitting clothes.
The battle launch docked, an Agrippan escort bearing a litter met them and carried Adula through the streets of the city. She did admire the wonderful architecture, grown from the tree itself: buildings seemed to appear in the branches within and without and lakes formed by rainfall in the enormous leaves. Adula, who usually despised litters, was grateful because it took a moment for her to adjust to the altitude. They escorted her down the grand promenade to the Palace of the Dozen Queens.“Where are we going?”
“The palace, your highness.”
“I thought I had an audience. Will it be tomorrow?” Adula asked.
“No, Your Grace, your audience will be in the palace, not in the library.”
She had only a moment to gawk at the huge statues of the twelve Na’Asulek Queens that lined the staircase to the entrance. They then informed her that she should sit and wait to be summoned.
Adula took the moment to adjust her uniform and decided it would be better to remove the helmet; the visor kept clanging shut and she could not see with it anyway. She had not taken the time to even notice before, but the armor was that of her grandmother, Empress Ibeth the Builder of the Amonu Zabadu Empire. She examined the helmet and chuckled.

“You had a big head, Ibeth.” She said to herself and admired the room. It was mammoth with a spiral staircase that seemed to lead all of the way to the pinnacle of the tree, which it probably did. A portrait depicting the entire Imperial family of Dechk loomed over the great doors: Bran Cavi’Lodiva and Jolin Cavi’Graze sat stoically in their dragon’s claw thrones framed by the unmistakable Dechki serpents biting their tails, (most familiar now because of the broad scope of the empire, it seemed the whole world was somehow part of Dechk). Their four daughters directly in front of them, each with her own throne; Amoden Ag’Uek, the Queen of Clubbathe, and Minkoh Cavi’Graze, the Queen of Dechk, sat on the first level down; then Faruka Cavi’Lodiva, Charul of Suldranis, stood just in front and between the other two. Lodiva Graze sat on the throne of Chadizah with her arms outstretched and open. Just in front of her and to her right was Amaquaba and to the left was Verrol of Moachin and theimperial line of the Amonu Zabadu: Artis, Ibeth, Dia, Maya and Lunatis. At first Adula assumed the portrait was old until she noticed herself sitting cross-legged, wearing her Cadet Commander’s uniform in the foreground.
An Osani attendant approached her.
“May I ask a question?”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The attendant said.
“How old is this portrait?”
“As with everything in this palace it is ancient. Lodiva Graze is the artist.”
“When was she last in Agrippa?”
“It was two-hundred cycles ago at least, but this artwork is much older than that; it is alive, it changes with time.” The attendant smiled.
“You may come now.” They walked halfway up the staircase and down a long hallway that ended in a wall. A solitary chair sat as if beside a door. “This is the Temple of the Xiana. Sit and wait until she speaks to you. Do not be shocked if she remains asleep. She will speak to your mind” the attendant directed and pushed her into the wall which opened into another large room.
The opening closed behind her. A chair appeared beside her and she sat the armor clanging as she tried to get comfortable. Living murals of events past, present and presumably the future adorned the walls; Akuba Cavi planting the seed that became Agrippa; the battle between the Revenger and the Night Stalker; the coronation of the High Guildmistress of Chadizah; Zarazul Ag’Aprekt speaking to Lunatis. A myriad of images; confusing and conflicting. Amaquaba was, after all, the High Priestess of Law and Chaos. The furnishings, however were sparse and simple, Adula assumed that it was because the High Librarian was a Witch and could conjure any furniture necessary. Twenty feet from her was Amaquaba’s bed draped in flowing white silken curtains. She could just make out the form of the woman sleeping. Adula felt the High Librarian touch her mind.
“You are Adula Zabadu,” a gentle voice said. The chair slid toward the bed; it startled Adula a little.
“I am, Your Grace.” Adula said attempting to sound calm and formal.
“If you are, why do you call me ‘Your Grace’?”
“You are the Empress of the Na’Asulek, I thought it was proper.” Adula apologized.
“It may be, but that is what those of lesser station call me. Do you know who you are?”
“I am Adula Zabadu, I’m the Cadet Commander of the Nerrovar School. That is why I addressed you in that manner, Your Majesty.”
Adula felt proud of her answer.
“You are a Giagathai true, but it seems to me that you forget your own station. Aren’t you the Empress of the Amonu Zabadu?”
“I am the Charul, but my sister is the one on the throne.” She answered concisely.
“Then you are not the daughter of Maya Zabadu?”
“I am the Assassin’s daughter.” Adula said annoyed. The conversation seemed to be deteriorating into riddles and she hated riddles, despised them because she thought they were a waste of time. She would, however, listen to what Amaquaba had to say even with the added annoyance.
“Then you should be the one on the throne.”
“Again, I will point out that my sister sits on the throne.” She answered haughtily.
“Your sister is the High Priestess of the Rock. The throne is for a warrior, like you. You are confused; that is why I summoned you. Tell me your genealogy.”
“I am the daughter of Maya, the Assassin: daughter of Ibeth the Builder: daughter of Artis: daughter of Verrol of Moachin—“

“The daughter of Lodiva Graze and X, am I right?”
“You should know, you are supposed to be my aunt.”
“Verrol was my sister.”
“I already know these things, Your Grace.” Adula said beginning to tire of the questioning.
“Knowing and believing are two different things, Your Grace. I will tell you of things that you believe are fables and I know to be truths. There are no fairy tales on Lyantho.”
“Why am I here? I studied all of these fairy tales in school.”
“Because these ‘fairy tales’, as you call them, are history and if you do not believe, we are all doomed. It really is quite simple.”
“Doomed, that sounds so dramatic.” Adula said barely believing what was happening. “I was going to the City of Witches. If we’re going to be doomed, can I at least see that city first?”
“You’ve seen it; it was where you were born.”
“I didn’t come here for riddles, Your Grace.”
“Yes, you did. I will relate this story to you in a way that will make you see the truth about you.” Amaquaba sat up and rose from her bed awake. “I will start with an explanation of a truth you may not understand: After the last Denizen War, before the great Cataclysm that wiped out the Ancient Order, the Chaotic One was angry, a truly rare occurrence, and altered nature. The death of Akuba Cavi meant that no one would tend this tree, Agrippa, a task that only a mortal can do. Sa’Obran flew in a fury to the Mothersource and demanded that she reprimand the two, prevalent warring deities.”
“Na’Salom and Ag’Tull; I read this one.” Adula added bored already.
“Indulge me. Ag’Tull and Na’Salom were forced to hold a truce, and Sa’Obran was given one Mortal’s cycle to come up with a fitting punishment for the turmoil their battles caused on the world, a cycle to come up with the thought of the thought of creation of the solution. The Chaotic One consulted the Talents. Sa’Obran reasoned that the Mothersource would inevitably wipe the slate clean as she had done many times before. She wished that we mortals had the ability to stop this: the ability to control our fates, as it were. The Denizens all lost powers they held over mortals because of their abuse and neglect; their followers would truly have to follow them, and ask for their power through deeds and offerings: Denizens would not be allowed direct intervention, except for the Seven Sybarites. The Mothersource imposed one rule that Mortals must abide catastrophic failure and her ultimate wrath. It was the Sacred Rule: no blood spilled on sacred ground.”

“Don’t you find that rather arbitrary?”
“Arbitrary or not, the Mothersource did it, and we must follow the Mothersource no matter whom we serve, this is something the Denizens tend to forget. The Talents wanted much in return for their services; they are opportunists on the grand scale. Toya convinced Sa’Obran that there should be seven sybarites for the seven focal points of power. Sa’Obran agreed. The Talents had three extra sybarites: one each for the Light and Darkness. Na’Salom and Ag’Tull now had the High Guide of Na’Salom and the Charul of Suldranis, these two mortals bound in life by divine decree of the Mothersource. This was the birth of the Province of Dechk.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the great Dechki Empire spans the globe, blah, blah, blah. Kay-Danmal never sets... Is this ever going to get interesting?” Adula asked sighing deeply. Amaquaba continued.
“Perhaps this will interest you. Look into my seeing stone. This is a glimpse of an event that happened long ago, thirteen cycles before the birth of Lodiva Graze.” As she spoke, a glowing stone grew out of the floor directly in front of Adula. She peered into it.

“I don’t think we should do this.” Faruka never stopped kissing her paramour. Faruka Cavi’Lodiva, the NiCharul of Suldranis, a divinely lovely being in either of her forms. Her silken brown hair and knowing hazel eyes were but two of the features that drove others to risk their lives for the chance to be near her. Secrecy was key in their relationship for many reasons. First, and possibly the least of their worries, there was her lover’s mate, the always-suspicious Jevana Ethapi. More important and extremely more dangerous was Bran Cavi’Lodiva, her Seedmother. Luckily, Bran would never believe Faruka capable of such a betrayal, which worked in their favor. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“How do you propose I stay away from you? I crave your touch.”
Their impassioned embrace reached a climax. “Faruka, I would die happily by your hand. If we are found out, please take my life; drink my blood so I may be part of you forever.”“If that is your desire, Hajani.”

“That is but one glimpse into a truth that has been hidden for centuries. I can tell you the truth about most events.”
Adula’s eyes remained fixed on the seeing stone that brought the images to her. “Hajani Ethapi wasn’t raped.” Adula asked, befuddled by the notion. “Everything I’ve ever read says that she was.”“That is because that is all that is written everywhere, but here in the Tome of the Ancient Order. I see you are interested in this information. Look again.”

Faruka Cavi’Lodiva stood in the stable, anxiously waiting. She paced and constantly checked to see if she was followed. This was a dangerous meeting place.
A baby cried and Faruka turned with a start. She smiled at Hajani and the infant.
“You frightened me.” She breathed. “I frightened you?” Hajani laughed. “You’re not frightened of anything.” Hajani kissed her playfully.
“Don’t be fooled; I am terrified of Bran. I love you.” Faruka said and kissed her. She took the infant from her. “She looks like a Tauthan.”
“What did you expect? She has your eyes.”
“I am frightened of Bran. What is going to happen when she finds out?”
“Why don’t we worry about that then? Can we just be together now?” Hajani kissed Faruka on the forehead.
“I know you’re worried about Jevana. You think she will tell Bran. If she does, she will die as soon as it has passed her lips; Bran doesn’t like being lied to. What did you tell Jevana?”
“I told her that I was raped by one of your guards.” Hajani said. “She believed me; she always does.”
“Hajani, I am a traitor for pursuing this relationship and so are you. The Denizens do not look kindly on disloyalty. We will both suffer for this.”
“You serve Ag’Tull; a lie isn’t a sin to her.” Hajani answered brushing her curly locks out of her face. She kissed Faruka tenderly.
“It is a sin to Toya and Kaskara. I am willing to lose my life for you and our daughter.”
Faruka took the baby and held her for a long moment. Then she kissed her secret lover long and hard until separated by their infant’s cries for milk.
“You know, this baby is marked.” Faruka said. “That’s the Mark of the Four Winds, and that is the mark of Toya.”
“It means she is a Protector.” Hajani supposed happily.
“Yes. What is it you Tauthans say about Protectors? They are always there... Ahno manay Raisa Noduri; it means always there, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Faruka, in the Ancient Tongue.”
“It’s a beautiful name. You should call her that: Raisa Noduri Cavi’Lodiva Ethapi.”
“Yes, Faruka, anything you wish.” Hajani swore while breast feeding the child.
“Listen, Hajani, she can never know me. She must never know who I am. Nobody can know that I am her Seedmother. Protect her from Bran, Amoden and me.”
“I will, as long as I can. Hopefully then she won’t need protection.”“And then I’ll have to kill her, Hajani.” 
“I see that you are intrigued by the prospect of truth. You will not be able to hide from the truth about you because it is the truth, Mighty One, and I cannot allow that. I will entice you further; Faruka Cavi’Lodiva traveled to Dechk shortly after this child’s birth to consult the High Guide of Na’Salom.”
“I believe I am now one match ahead.” Jolin announced. “I do enjoy playing strokes with you, Faruka.”
“I always thought you preferred to play Minkoh.” Faruka said resetting the pieces.
“She lets me win; you are a challenge.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“Shall we have another match?” Jolin asked.
“Jolin, are you attending the opera?” Bran asked. She, Amoden and Minkoh stood around them preparing to depart.
“I think I’ll remain, the opera is quite boring without Amoden in the lead.” Jolin said, the comment got a pride filled smile from Amoden.  
“And you, Faruka?” Bran asked.
“I will stay and keep Jolin company.” The two watched them leave. Faruka turned to Jolin seriously. “I seek your counsel.”
“My pointed ears await your words.” Jolin replied and looked at Ban Ruda who stopped playing. “No need to stop, Little Bard, you can help me with the answer.”
“As you desire, High Guide.” Ban Ruda continued playing.
“What would happen if a Suldranis and a Tauthan conceived a child?” Faruka asked attempting to mask her intense need for an answer. Her dreams intensified starting shortly after the birth (disturbing images of a Tauthan woman screaming “Who are you, Mother?” and her own body shattering into icicles.) She could not sleep for two weeks. This was the reason she returned to Dechk.
“Is the Suldranis the Source or the Seed?” Jolin asked knowing the answer. Her frustration showed clearly on her face. She also had dreams, disturbing dreams of Faruka’s tryst with Hajani Ethapi.

She did not dream of a child.
“The Seed.” Faruka answered quickly, hoping Jolin would believe the question was merely curiosity. In her mind she drifted to thoughts of her infant.
“Varlen Augurie.” Ban Ruda blurted out. “It means loyal for life; Varlen was Akuba’s protector.”
“Yes, she was a result of that match, but that is a name from the Ancient Order. Bran killed Varlen and Akuba when they were protecting Agrippa. In our present time, she is Raisa Noduri. You do know what that means, don’t you.” Jolin’s stern look said everything as she glared at Faruka.
“Raisa Noduri?” Faruka mused pensively avoiding Jolin’s gaze. The one thing that always bothered her about Jolin was that she was such a powerful telepath that nothing escaped her especially if she gazed into the eyes.
“Tell her, little bard.” Jolin said through clenched teeth.
“Always there.” Ban Ruda said. “Varlen was the child of Suldran and Sherok, she was Akuba Cavi’s protector. She fought off a thousand Ag’Asulek and Suldranis in the last battle. When Bran Charul finally caught and killed her, she had injuries that would kill one hundred soldiers. Varlen was Toya’s Dancer, fearless in battle. She spat in Bran’s eye moments before she died. She died minutes before Akuba Cavi.”
“Loyal for life.” Faruka sighed.
“Yes.” Jolin said finally. “But this child you speak of now is Raisa Noduri, always there. Chadizah’s Protector.”
“Chadizah?”
“Yes, Faruka, Chadizah, the Mighty Mortal, Raisa Noduri will stop at nothing to keep her alive. She will kill everything and everyone who threatens her; she is Toya’s Dancer.” Ban added. “She will kill you.”
“That’s enough, Ban Ruda.” Jolin snapped. “Faruka, I hope you haven’t done something you will regret forever, but I know that hope is in vain.”
“Why?” Faruka demanded.
“I am the High Guide of Na’Salom, I’ve already seen what you’ve done. Hide that child; forget about that child if you can. Make sure Bran never finds her.”
“What have I done, Jolin?” Faruka asked hesitantly.
“You’ve seeded your executioner.” Jolin shouted.
“My what?” Faruka breathed stunned.
“You heard me.” Jolin said. “But that will not happen soon. Right  now you should be concerned that Bran never finds this child. Right now you must ensure that this child lives and pray to your Mistress that she never knows what you are to her. She must remain free to kill you.”
“Isn’t Faruka an Oracle? Isn’t that something she’d know?”
“Yes, she is, but Oracles rarely see their own future clearly.”
Amaquaba said. “Adula, this is just scratching the surface. You’ve no idea of what I know. I remind you again; knowing and believing are two different things. I know the truth of the fairy tales; just let me open your mind.” This time Amaquaba meant to beguile her young visitor. “Look again, Adula, that day Faruka allowed these thoughts to fester in her brain until after the opera, when Minkoh returned...”

Faruka paced like a caged cat, nervous and jittery, she snapped at her slaves for no reason; she was furious. Now in her Suldranis form, she was unbelievably alarming; she threw a tantrum.

“The lady Minkoh to see you.” A terrified attendant whispered.
“Send her in.” Faruka bellowed. Moments later Minkoh glided into her chamber.
“You requested my presence?” Minkoh said formally.
“Yes, Oracle.” Faruka barked and received a severely arched eyebrow from her older sister.
“Watch your tone with me.” Minkoh scolded. “Who do you think I am? One of your slaves? Calm down, I will not speak to you if you are going to act like a child. You are a grown woman.”
“I am sorry.” Faruka sighed.
“Very well. My pointed ears await your words.”
“Oracle, I have committed a serious act of deceit and defiance against my Sourcemother.”
“Really? Against Bran?” Minkoh gasped, allowing more shock to creep into her voice than she intended. “Defiance and deceit? You need to speak to Jolin.”
“I already have.” Faruka mumbled.
Minkoh closed her eyes. “I am amazed that you can hide it so deeply.” She touched her Oracular stone and closed her eyes. A moment later, her eyes popped open and she glared at her younger sister. “You are consorting with- you didn’t!”
“I did, I have, and I am.”
“Do the words catastrophic failure mean anything to you? You lied to Bran. This is treason. Toya will punish you for it!” Minkoh shouted.
“I didn’t think you would be so appalled.” Faruka said, astonished by Minkoh’s reaction.
“You had a child with a Tauthan. How could you? It is... a Tauthan, Faruka. Have you lost your mind? You couldn’t think of something less offensive to Bran?”

“She is beautiful, Minkoh. She is... we worked so closely in the Temple.”
“You couldn’t curb your urges? Faruka you know better, a slave would be less offensive. I can’t believe you!”
“I tried, Minkoh, I tried, but Hajani...”
“Hajani Ethapi?” Minkoh was beet red with rage. “You had a child with Hajani Ethapi? Why didn’t you just sleep with Pan Tiralak?”
“It’s not as though I did this out of spite Minkoh. I fell in love.”
“Faruka, Bran kills traitors. You have to stop it now.”
“I can’t, Minkoh, I can’t.”
“You’re in love.” Minkoh said smiling slightly. “Be careful, Ruka; this is catastrophic failure. I won’t dare guess what your punishment will be, not just from Bran but also from Toya, Ruka, what were you thinking?”
“Isn’t it obvious that I didn’t think?”
“Break it off.”
“I can’t, I can’t.” Faruka was crying. “I love her.”
“Are you prepared to accept the consequences?”
“I’d better be.”
“Isn’t it interesting how we can only read what the Denizens want us to read? They erase things from books. There is knowledge here in Agrippa, in the Great Library, things that none can know. Most of it is available right now for you. I can tell you of these myths and the truths behind them; but only if you ask me. Agrippa holds the ineffable, Adula, do you want to play Dibray?”
Dibray was a game that the Cavi’Asulek played, questions and answers; appallingly annoying to most people, but it was the best way to learn about anything. Just the truth, and questions had to come from a place of divine seeking, one had to truly accept the consequences for the answer and the question. Adula was part Cavi and the opportunity to play Dibray with the High Librarian of Lyantho (whether or not she really was the same Amaquaba) was a once in a lifetime chance.“I’ll play Dibray with you. I’ll ask the obvious first question: why have I been summoned here?”
“So that I can tell you who, what, where, why, how and when you are.”
“Please elaborate.”
“Very well.” Amaquaba’s bed turned into a large comfortable chaise, as did Adula’s chair. “ I will begin. This is knowledge from the Tome: The Forest of Ankay, at one point long ago, was the girdle of Lyantho. It stretched from the Springs of Lilligyth in the West to Mount Kellyurn in the East. Ankay’s gargantuan trees reached almost a mile into the sky; it serves as home to the Asulek people. They coerced the trees to allow them to live in their branches in harmony with them and nurtured them to great fertility as the Na’Asulek do here. The Elven Cities are a marvel to all who see them. Now the mighty forest, severed by the great cataclysm reached only to the edge of the Western sea. A great remnant of its past glory was this city in the center of the world. Another reminder of the forest’s former glory was the dark and tangled Wylds that splits the Eastern Hemisphere in half and spans the continent from the Western edge of the Eastern Sea to Mount Kellyurn. At the time when these eventsbegan, the Cavi’Asulek cities in the nation now known as Chadizah were in ruins and overgrown by the dark and tangled Wylds.”
“Deep in the forest of Ankay is the nation of Dechk. Winter in Dechk’s great forest is frigid. Giant icicles dangle perilously from the pine trees’ monstrous needles and fall from dizzying heights. At this point, the Suldranis face their hatred of trees and move into the tree cities. The move always prompts distress among the Asulek population, but this was a way of life forced upon them by the Mothersource when she allied Ag’Tull and Na’Salom.”
“One hundred and sixty-nine cycles and three daughters passed since the Denizen-ordained joining of Bran Cavi’Lodiva, the Charul of Suldranis, and Jolin Cavi’Graze, the High Guide of Na’Salom, and the tradition of winter migration was now a custom. The Suldranis remained in the lower levels of the cities of Dechk, Druan, Verdun and Verdin.”
“One hundred and sixty-nine cycles and now the people of Dechk await the birth of a fourth child, one whose birth -prophesy said would change the course of events; a child called Chadizah; a Mortal filled with the essence of X the Denizen of Magic. A child who would one day use the word of change: Chadizah. The child would know the locations of the Seven Sacred Stones placed by Akuba Cavi; and in the places she found them build and enhance the Seven Sacred Cities to honor the Seven Sacred Directions. A woman who would lead Lyantho through the troubling times of new Denizen Wars; a woman who would build the city of Witches; a woman whose true name means change.”
“So states The Tome of the Ancient Order.”
“I can relate this story fully to you, but seconds after I finish and your questions have been answered, you will leave this room; when you do, your life will change drastically; events are transpiring now that will rock the foundations of life. This world will change forever based on the path you choose, Adula. Understand that you are more important than you realize; you are a princess of Dechk, Mighty One.” “I am not.” Adula scoffed.
“You are and yes, I did address you as the Mighty One; it is what you are. We can only hope that who you are will lead you down the correct path. Your world has changed; you are deposed as the Charul of Kyos.”
“Deposed?”
“Yes. Now I will complete the task the Mothersource wrote on my soul in the thought of the thought of the thought that thought of my creation. Access your Cavi’Asulek nature and receive what I must give you. We will play Dibray, questions and answers, as you played with your mother long ago. I will tell you everything I can. Where shall I begin, Mighty One?”
She gazed into Amaquaba’s swirling rainbow eyes and fought the bedazzling effect. It was quite odd, she had not remembered Amaquaba approaching her, in fact, the last thing she remembered was entering the chamber. She blinked then closed her eyes and shook her head.
“You really are a witch of Chadizah, you’re beguiling me, Your Grace.”
“I did not intend that; I do not speak to many people face to face.”
“How many people do you speak to face to face?” She asked out of genuine curiosity.
“You are the ninth. I live a solitary life. It is very quiet.”
“Wow.” She thought for a moment. “If I am the Mighty One (and for the while I will maintain that polite fiction) tell me why? Why me?”
“Very well, if you insist on doing this again...Name your mother.”
“Maya the assassin.” Adula spat.
“My, my, such animosity; that is yet another story for you to hear. I will tell you when we get to it. Name her mother?”

“Ibeth the builder.”
“And hers?”
“Artis of Verrol.”
“And hers?”
“Verrol of Moachin, your sister.”
Amaquaba smiled, it was the young woman’s continued defiance and disbelief.
“Then name our mother, Mighty One.”“I’m not ignorant, Your Grace. I’ve spent a great deal of time studying my genealogy; Why are we doing this again?”
“That was your choice. You asked.”
“Is this another lesson?”
“Yes, answer me; who is my mother?” Amaquaba reiterated.
“Lodiva Graze, the Empress of Chadizah. The High Guildmistress of the Witches of Chadizah and All-High Oracle of the Denizen X.”
Adula snapped, not noticing the tendrils of rainbow Thervan that rippled briefly when she said the Denizen’s word.
“I was warned that you were unnecessarily aggressive but no one told me that you were so thick, and there is no time for that, Mighty One.”
“What are you going to do, throw me into the Oubliette of Agrippa?” Adula said snidely.
“If need be.” Amaquaba smiled again. “What is Lodiva Graze?”
“According to the myths, and fairy tales, she is Chadizah.” As the word left her lips, glitter like rainbow lights sparkled in front of her face. She jumped backward out of the chaise. The next moment she was sitting in a chair at a small table across from Amaquaba.
“What was that?”
“The power of X. Magic.”
There was a long, horrifying, terrible silence as the young cadet commander of Nerrovar contemplated what happened. “Fairy tales.”
She whispered.

“There are no fairy tales in this world; they are the truth. Again, I ask you where shall I begin.”
“When I said the word... that was me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not a witch.”
“No, you’re a warrior. Lodiva Graze is a witch.”
“Then...”
“You said the word, I’m sure that you’ve said it many times before, but never here, this is a Temple of Xiana; relations of the Xiana have a... an event in this place. What happened was that you actually believed that she is who she is and that will lead to the belief that you are who you are. She is Chadizah.”
When Amaquaba said the word, the whole room glittered and the leaves of Agrippa rustled like chimes in the wind. “Must I ask you a third time?”

Now the cadet was beyond fascinated. “I am not an oracle, but the words fit; my pointed ears await your words. I want you to start at the beginning of what is relevant to me.”“That would be at the beginning of the end. As I said before: we are playing Dibray so feel free to ask questions.”

Part 1: The Tale of Chadizah

~Webmaster~

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