CARA
The
sun shone brightly as her mare trotted along the asphalted road of
Acolyte Town. On each side of the road, vendors yelled their wares
and prices in shrill, loud voices. She constantly moved her head left
and right, looking at old women haggling with vendors, at children
running around corners, and at performers doing just about anything
to get the people's attention. The
town feels so alive, she
thought. With
The Choosing so near at hand, they ought to be. Behind,
her siblings rode noisily, shouting and laughing and cursing at each
other. She glimpsed Daron hitting their bastard half-brother Krazen
at the back, while Pretty Lysa flirted shamelessly with every boy
chance-met upon the road. Children,
all of them, though I am the youngest. Daron,
already twenty nine years old, is the first trueborn son of Cleos
Nymera, though their bastard brother Krazen is two years older. Nine
years after Daron was born came her sickly sister Lysa. Cara came not
long after. Beautiful,
powerful and cunning - and only eighteen years old. She
brushed her long blonde hair slightly and trotted forward.
Just
ahead, the Great Citadel of Aquilor loomed. Its walls stood almost
ten times her height, with bricks gleaming black and shiny against
the heat of the sun. Behind it, she saw, lay the Four Towers, soaring
proud and mighty to the sky. She could almost hear her mother tell
tales about the white and shimmering Holy Tower, dull Stone Tower,
the Iron Tower of the Shakk, and the twisted Black Tower, the highest
of them all. Her mother knew all these by heart, and so did she. I
always knew that they were tall, though not this
tall.
Why, they are almost higher than the sun. And growing higher still,
as I come nearer. As
she approached the Citadel, she saw that the wall has neither gate
nor guard. The wall was black all over, without anything on it at
all. She remembered one of her mother's tales from when she was
little. "The Black Wall of the Citadel is enchanted," she had
said. "You can pass through it like it is made of thin air, though
it is impenetrable when the Council wills it to be." Indeed, she
saw an acolyte emerge from the wall, as if coming from the wall
itself.
"I
can hardly wait to get inside." As usual, she never noticed when
her half-brother Krazen came up beside her. He
is always so silent, she
thought.
"Well,
here we are." she answered.
And
as she spoke, a human face suddenly appeared on the wall.
The
face was almost featureless, yet remarkable. Its nose was pointed,
the holes appearing like elongated circles a little bigger than she
is. The mouth was tightly closed, with very thin lips, barely
perceptible, twisted in a very small, wicked smile. Its eyes are
hollow, circular curves at the stone. By looking closer, one would
notice that it has no eyeballs. The rest of the face is pure black
stone, as smooth as the wall from which it came from.
"WHO
GOES THERE?" it said.
She
almost jumped and bolted home. The face looked very wicked, almost
evil to her. And with her heart thumping hard on her chest, she
answered, "W-we..." I
am not afraid. Just startled. "We
are the Nymeras of Northwynd. Sons and daughters of Lord Cleos
Nymera." She sounded like a child. "We are the NYMERAS of
NORTHWYND," she repeated, much louder, "Sons and daughters of
Lord CLEOS NYMERA." Shouting it made her much more confident.
"You
may pass." answered the face on the wall. And just like that, it
was gone. Swallowed
by the wall like it was nothing at all.
"But
how are we to pass?" she asked her siblings.
"We
go through
the
wall, stupid." Lysa answered her.
"You
go first."
"No,
you
go
first."
"No,"
Krazen interrupted suddenly. As the elder, everyone listened to him.
"We go together."
And
so, the four of them went through the wall together.
She
half-expected to feel something strange while passing through the
wall. But she was disappointed. One moment, she was looking straight
at the black wall, and then she was inside the Citadel, looking
straight at the Four Towers themselves. They looked much bigger
when seen up-close. Much
farther apart, too. At
the center of the Four Towers stood a low, wide building, made of the
same black bricks as the wall. But wide as the building is, it is
still dwarfed by the bases of the round towers, which are probably
bigger than the Castle of Aquilor. She glanced to say something to
her siblings, but found that they are gone. She spotted Lysa talking
to a group of male acolytes near the Stone Tower, while Daron is
watching a performer dance with magic. She did not see Krazen
anywhere. Showing
off to some girl, most like. She
turned her attention toward a large gathering of people near the low
building. She tried to take a peek at the center of attraction, but
couldn't, for the crowd are too many. Easily
remedied, she
thought. She closed her eyes, concentrated - and turned to ash in
an instant, only to reemerge at the front of the crowd, with a clear
view at the center. Everyone who saw gaped at her in astonishment.
Some even clapped their hands at her or shouted for more. That
was just a taste of my Magic, she
thought with a smile.
Hers
is a rare kind of magic. Everyone agreed on that since she was
little. She was four years old when she first used it. She was
running around their garden with her mother when she suddenly
slipped. And before her mother could catch her, she turned to ash and
emerged two meters away from where she fell. They thought that was
all. But it was two months later when they learned the true nature of
her magic. It was when an alley dog tried to bite her. As the dog was
running towards her, she closed her eyes and covered herself with her
hands, waiting for the dog's bite. It never came. When finally she
opened her eyes, the dog is dead, without any trace of how it died.
It was then that they knew that hers is the magic of Death.
"So
The Choosing has begun, huh?" Krazen suddenly appeared beside her.
He
was using his Invisibility, alright. When
she looked around, Cara knew that her half-brother is right. A large
number of hooded people clad in red stood scattered around, holding
strange black rods. Citadel
Masters holding Talent Rods, she
knew. Talent Rods are used to reveal the true form of a person's
magic. Touching a man with one of these will trigger his Talent
immediately.
"Are
you scared, Krazen?" she mocked.
"I
am never scared," he answered. "I shall prove it to you when they
assign me to the Black Tower."
It
is I who shall be in the Black Tower. The
rarest and most powerful Talents are assigned in the Black Tower.
There they are taught in the ways of Magic, depending on the person's
nature. Talents that are more inclined to combat are assigned to the
Tower of the Shakk, where they are rigorously trained to fight; those
with healing and support magic are to the Holy Tower, which
specializes in teaching and training Support Magic; lesser Talents
are assigned to the Stone Tower, where they are sorted as to which
tasks they are more suitable. Persons with even lesser Talents are
rejected, or given minor jobs in the Citadel. Of these towers, the
Stone Tower is the most populous, the Black Tower the least.
She
glanced as a mid-aged man was touched with a Talent Rod. A sphere of
faint violet light encircled him. When the Citadel Master tried to
touch it, sparks flew and jolted his hand. The
man is a Shield. An
awesome Talent, but common. Still, he was sent to the Holy Tower.
Probably
because his Shield is unusually strong.
Another turned invisible when hit with a Talent Rod. Invisibility.
Another common Talent, yet one that I do not have.
He was sent to the Stone Tower. She looked around and saw how The
Choosing went. Two more Talents with Invisibility are sent to the
Stone Tower. A man with an arm that turns to iron was sent to the
Shakk, while more than a dozen were rejected. Only
a few Talents are strong enough to be chosen, it would seem. She
watched as a young man, whose Invisibility is incomplete that his
head remains visible when he uses it, begged for another chance.
Then
came Krazen's turn. She knew his Talent, but it always thrilled her
to see it. And when the Talent Rod touched him, he did not
disappoint. All at once, a large number of deadly sharp blades
appeared all over his body. Each blade is roughly three feet long,
with razor sharp points. One almost hit the Master in the face. Many
cheered and whistled at the sight of it. He
looks like a pineapple, she
thought. But in the end, Krazen was assigned to the Shakk. He
protested that his Talent is worthy of the Black Tower, but the
Master only sighed and said that though his Talent is not common, it
is not rare either - and not that powerful, too. Krazen grumbled,
but he went to the Shakk all the same. Lysa's turn came not long
after. Her Ice Talent was impressive - the Master said so - but
she will be transferred to the Citadel Elementia at Hrazea Kingdom,
which specializes in Elemental Magic. Daron soon followed, but his
incomplete Invisibility was rejected.
Finally,
her turn came. As she was walking towards the kindly old Citadel
Master, fear suddenly gripped her. She had put much confidence in her
rare Talent, but now she is not so sure. After all, they thought of
Krazen's Talent as rare too, but that had not been enough to put
him in the Black Tower.
As
the Master started to touch her with the Rod, she decided to close
her eyes. Not long after, she felt the light touch of the Rod. She
waited for what seemed forever.
Nothing
happened.
She
closed her eyes even tighter. What
has gone wrong? Why is my Talent not showing? Her
mind strained for an answer. Maybe
there is something wrong with the Rod. Maybe the Master had done it
wrong. Or maybe rare Talents don't show up just like that. But
she mistrusted her speculations even as she thought of it. My
Talent has betrayed me, and that is the truth of it, she
thought.
But
suddenly, she heard the collective gasps of everyone around her. She
heard someone - no, more
than
one - from the crowd scream. She thought - or had she only
imagined it? - that it was Lysa. She opened her eyes, and saw.
Around her is a wide radius of death. The grass beneath her feet
withered and died. Insects and rodents alike are dead. There are even
a few birds on the ground.
And
at her feet lies the dead body of the Citadel Master, along with the
bodies of almost half a dozen others.
Then
all hell broke out.
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