Maryn’s tale
“Come on, slowpoke!” Maryn called out to Wyllam excitedly, her long reddish-brown braid swaying and bouncing behind her as she skipped down the path. Wyllam trailed behind her by at least twenty feet, following along at a more dignified pace and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Maryn could hardly contain herself this morning and was too excited to wait for him. Master Illuran had given them permission to go to the garden and pick whatever they wanted for dinner. They were celebrating Wyllam’s acceptance as a full member of the Chosen. His long apprenticeship was finally over. His blue-trimmed apprentice robes had already been exchanged for the brown-trimmed robes of the Chosen. He had celebrated his twentieth birthday earlier in the month and had passed all his exams with high marks. Already he was on a higher level than many of the Chosen who had completed their apprenticeships years ago. Everyone expected him to become a Master someday – probably sooner than later. So, on Master Illuran’s recommendation, he had been presented to the other Masters and was accepted as one of the Chosen.
A few days before there had been a full ceremony in the Hall of the Chosen, where the High Master himself had led all the progressing apprentices in saying their oaths. After that, he delivered a speech that Maryn tried to pay attention to, but it was long and full of big words so she honestly remembered very little of it. It was all about serving the greater good and staying true to the Gift, or something like that.
There was also a great deal about “these hard times” which Maryn hadn’t understood at all. Nothing about these times seemed particularly “hard” to her. Sure, she worked hard, but that was normal, especially when Illuran was your Master. Master Illuran had a reputation for having exceptionally high standards and was demanding, but fair. She expected no more from anyone except what they were capable of doing. Failure at any task was treated as an opportunity to learn and improve, not a cause for punishment.
After his speech, High Master Udan called all the Masters forward and they each in turn handed over new robes to their own apprentices. Many of the Masters enthusiastically congratulated their former apprentices. Illuran, as expected, was as composed and expressionless as ever. Maryn watched the exchange attentively, it was the first progression ceremony she had been permitted to attend and a rare opportunity for her to see her master interacting with other members of the Chosen outside her own quarters.
Everything Maryn had was because of Master Illuran. She didn’t remember it, of course, but she had been told that she was abandoned at the base of the Chosen’s mountain as a small child. Illuran’s last name was Marrowhyn and she had named Maryn after herself as a sign that the child belonged to her now. Life was hard for orphans in the capital city, she was told. No one there cared for orphans and they lived short, hard lives on the streets scraping together what food and shelter they could find or steal.
The fact that Illuran had taken her in at all was a miracle, the Chosen were not in the habit of taking in orphans. From time to time a child would be found at the base of the mountain, but they were usually taken to the city and turned over to the authorities there. What happened to them after that was not their concern. The Chosen did not meddle in the internal affairs of the Ungifted. Maryn was told that she had been accepted because Illuran had sensed the Gift within her. Even now, when she was not yet ten years old, she knew that she had been given an exceedingly rare chance at a life of comfort and acceptance that most orphans could only dream of.
She was an infant when the Chosen had found her and her age was just a guess. No one knew exactly how old she was. They could tell that she was less than a year old, so they began counting her age on the day Illuran took her in, and that became her birthday. Her tenth birthday was fast approaching and that meant her apprenticeship was going to officially start. It was when she would get to trade in the pink-trimmed robes of a child which she wore now for blue-trimmed apprentice robes. She would start studying her lessons instead of running errands and doing chores all day. The Chosen would stop looking at her like a child and start treating her like an apprentice. But it was knowing that she could start learning how to properly use the Gift that had her most excited.
She could tell the Gift was beginning to awaken within her and she could already use it to some small degree. Most notably when she would get angry or excited and lose her focus she would often accidentally mindspeak her thoughts to everyone in the room. This was common for children her age who were starting to come into the Gift. She had also recently realized that she could sense the presence of those around her, like a vague twinge in the back of her mind. It was subtle, but she had already begun to notice the differences between those who lived with her in her Master’s quarters and the other residents of the Village. Also, whenever someone performed a procedure near her she could feel her skin tingle and warm up. When she told Master Illuran about this she had reassured her that this was perfectly normal and that it was a sign that she was almost ready to begin her apprenticeship.
Now the time had finally come. Tonight they would have Wyllam’s celebration dinner, and a few days later she could begin her apprenticeship.
The path that led from Illuran’s quarters to the western gardens was paved with the same smooth white stone that most of the buildings in the Village of the Chosen were made from. Well-trimmed green grass lawns filled the space between the white stone buildings and the paved pathways, giving the Village a very clean and peaceful appearance. The Village was quiet at this time of day, most of the Chosen were busy with their various tasks. Here and there an apprentice or servant could be seen hurrying down one of the paths on their way to the Great Hall or the library or one of the other residences on some unknown errand.
Just past the library was the western garden. Maryn waited at the garden gate while a servant passed through carrying a basket of vegetables she had just collected. She gave Maryn a gentle smile as she passed by, the kind that most people give small children. Maryn stood politely off to the side and curtsied. Children were expected to show respect to all their elders, even the servants. She genuinely liked everyone at the Village and held no ill feelings towards anyone, but she couldn’t wait to finally stop being treated like a little kid. As Wyllam approached, the servant immediately stepped aside and curtsied to him as he passed. Wyllam paused for a second and stiffly nodded in return before they both continued on their ways. He never had been comfortable with the servants bowing to him. Maryn smiled at his plight and was about to tease him about it when she realized that she would be getting used to very much the same thing in just a few days. Children and servants both had to bow to apprentices, even new ones.
“What did you tell Master you want for dinner?” Maryn asked instead as he reached the gate.
“Trout with peaches and a cucumber and tomato salad,” he replied. “It’s always been a favorite of mine.” The two walked through the gate together. The area just inside the gate was set aside as an orchard with fruit trees of several varieties lining the pathways which wandered leisurely amongst them.
“That sounds wonderful!” Maryn said. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that before.” She looked around, trying to find the peach trees. She had only been to the garden a few times with Illuran’s head servant, Tilly. It was usually the servant’s job to go to the gardens for the cooks. She had been allowed to accompany Wyllam today because he didn’t have a servant assigned to him yet, and he would be choosing the vegetables for his own celebration meal. Master Illuran would assign one of her own servants to become his at dinner tonight. Maryn had asked if she could help him until that time, and Illuran had agreed. As a member of the Chosen, he was not expected to do such menial tasks as gathering vegetables anymore.
She found the peach trees a little way down the path and grabbed her basket tight as she skipped down the grassy path towards them. She was glad for the chance to do something nice for Wyllam since he had always been so good to her. It was the job of the apprentices and servants to see to the care and education of the children in the Village. Wyllam had taken an early liking to Maryn and had always been particularly nice to her. She had come to see him as an older brother who was always there for her. The other members of Illuran’s household all loved her too, and she loved them, but Wyllam held a special place in her heart, and she was sad to know that he would be leaving for his own quarters soon – when she let herself think about it, that was.
She reached the grove of peach trees and began searching for the best peaches while Wyllam came slowly up behind her. He still seemed lost in thought and was only paying mild attention to Maryn as she hopped around the tree, grabbing whatever low-hanging fruit her short stature would allow. She found a particularly delicious-looking peach that was just barely out of her reach and struggled for a minute or two to reach it while he just stood there not really paying attention. She was going to yell at him to come over and help when she remembered she needed to talk more politely to him now. “Excuse me, Brother Wyllam? Can you please help me reach this peach? I’m too short,” she said as politely as she could. Though she knew it wasn’t proper to ask her superior to help with a task that had been given to her, it was still only Wyllam, after all.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure,” he said. He shook his head and snapped out of whatever thoughts he had been stuck in. He reached up and easily picked the fruit before handing it to her. “Sorry, kiddo. I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind lately.”
“Aren’t you excited to be one of the Chosen now?” she asked as she took the fruit from him. She started counting the peaches in her basket to see if she had gathered enough.
“Yes, very much so,” he replied. He reached down and took the basket from her and looked through the peaches himself. “I think that’s enough, let’s go get the cucumbers and tomatoes.” He handed the basket back to her and they started walking towards the garden at the far edge of the orchard.
As they walked, Maryn said: “so what are you thinking so hard about? You’ve been very quiet today.”
Wyllam’s brow furrowed just a bit as he looked down at her and he opened his mouth to speak. He seemed to change his mind and smiled at her instead. “Oh, nothing for you to worry about. It’s just the war that’s on my mind, that’s all.” Maryn stopped and looked up at him. She hadn’t heard about any wars.
“What war?” she asked. “Is that what High Master Udan was talking about in his speech the other day?”
He blinked in surprise and then grimaced slightly. “I guess Master Illuran wouldn’t talk about such things with you, would she?” he said. “Well, if she hasn’t told you about the war, then it’s not my place to. I’m sorry I brought it up. Don’t worry about it, we’re plenty safe up here.” He continued walking.
Maryn stood still for a moment longer before jogging to catch up with him. “What do you mean by ‘we’re safe’?” She didn’t like the sounds of that. The adults of the Village had been a bit more quiet and serious lately, though she hadn’t thought anything of it until just now. They still acted pretty much like normal around the children.
“I mean there are wards in place on the walls and foundations of the Village that protect us against intruders. You’ll learn about that pretty early in your studies, so I’m not out of line telling you about it. I can’t tell you anything about the war if Master Illuran hasn’t told you about it. I’m afraid if you want to know more then you’ll have to ask her. I’ve already said too much.”
The last thing Maryn wanted to do was ask Master about a subject that she had obviously deliberately avoided mentioning to the children. Although to be honest, Master Illuran didn’t spend a lot of time with the young children anyway. She usually left most of their care to her servants. She decided to push Wyllam for more information, it was better to get him a little annoyed with her than to risk Master’s wrath. She fell into stride beside him and started pouting. She could usually get just about anything she wanted from him if she pouted long enough. He smiled and looked down at her. “Nice try kiddo. I don’t want to start my life as one of the Chosen by making Master Illuran mad at me. My lips are sealed.”
“Fine,” Maryn said with a real pout this time. She didn’t want to get Wyllam in trouble with Master. She would just have to ask Tilly if she knew anything about this mysterious war when they got back.
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Dinner that night was delicious. Besides the fish and salad, the chefs had prepared a wild berry cobbler for dessert. The children almost never got to have dessert, except for special occasions like this. Maryn ate with the other children and the servants in the kitchen, while Wyllam ate with Master Illuran and her apprentices out in the great room. After dinner, Maryn helped clean the kitchen before heading to the female servant’s room to get ready for bed. The children slept in the servant’s rooms until their tenth birthday. After that, they would either continue on as servants or, like Maryn, become apprentices and move into the apprentice’s room.
Besides Maryn, Illuran had two other children under her care; another girl named Mara, who was five and had only been with them for a week, and a boy named Marcus, who was Maryn’s age. Marcus was nice enough, though Maryn did not spend as much time with him as she used to. He was the child of some servants from another household and had shown early signs of possessing the Gift so Illuran agreed to take him on. Unfortunately, as he got older the Gift had not grown within him as it had with Maryn. As such, he spent most of his time with the other servants, assisting them with their tasks and learning what he could of their craft, which took a surprising amount of skill and practice to do well. The girl, Mara, also showed strong signs of the Gift but it was still too early to tell how they would develop. She was also an orphan from the outside, just like Maryn, which had caused quite a stir around the Village when Illuran accepted her.
When Maryn wasn’t running errands for Master, she spent most of her time practicing her reading and math in preparation for her studies as an apprentice. Most everything else she would learn as part of her apprenticeship, but it was expected that she would be proficient at reading and writing and have at least the basics of math down before she began her apprenticeship. This did not leave much time for playing with the other children. What free time she did have she usually spent with Wyllam, talking or helping him with whatever project he was working on. If he was too busy then she would find one of the books about the Gift that she was allowed to read or help Tilly with the housework. As a result, she had managed to learn a fair bit more about the ways of the Gift and the Chosen than most other pre-apprenticeship children, a fact that she was secretly quite proud of.
The members of the Chosen all had at least one servant, more often two or three, but only the Masters could train apprentices. Most apprentices were guaranteed their positions from birth, having been born into the family of the Chosen. Marriage amongst the chosen was allowed and encouraged. This ensured their continued growth and way of life. Even the servants could marry if their masters approved; though they were still expected to live with their masters, so any marriages were usually within the same household.
Maryn had been the first orphan in fifty years that anyone could remember being brought into the Village of the Chosen. She was told on many occasions that she was being watched by the Council of Masters very closely and with no small amount of skepticism. It seemed that Illuran’s choice to take her in had not been a very popular one, but it was allowed because of her highly respected position within the Village and the fact that there were no rules expressly forbidding it. Maryn did not want to bring trouble on Illuran so she always worked extra hard at her manners and studies, and it must have made an impression because almost everyone agreed that Maryn was one of the sweetest children in The Village. At least that’s what Tilly and Wyllam told her, no one would say such things to a child directly.
Shortly after she climbed into bed Tilly came into the room. “Maryn, Master would like to see you in her chambers. Please change back into your clothes. I will wait here until you are ready, please hurry.” This surprised Maryn greatly, Master never summoned her this late. Usually, any time Master wanted to talk to the children she would summon them before dinner.
Tilly looked more serious than usual and this worried Maryn, so she hurriedly changed back into her robes and followed Tilly across the apartment to their master’s chambers. All the while she was frantically trying to think what Master could possibly want to see her about. She had not had a chance to ask Tilly about the war – she had quite forgotten about it with all the excitement around dinner – and Wyllam would not have admitted to slipping up and telling her, so it couldn’t be about that. As far as she knew she hadn’t broken any rules lately so she didn’t think she was in trouble. She could not think of any reason for such an odd summons.
At least she did not have to wait long to find out since it was a short walk to Master Illuran’s door. Tilly knocked once, waited for a moment then opened the door smoothly and stepped inside, Maryn waited outside as was customary. “Master Illuran, I have brought the child Maryn, as you requested,” she heard Tilly say.
“Thank you, Tilly. You may show her in,” she heard Master Illuran say. Tilly opened the door wider and gestured for Maryn to step inside. Maryn’s legs felt weak, and they didn’t want to obey her command to walk. She had been summoned to Master’s chambers countless times throughout her life but this time felt very different, and it wasn’t just because of the late hour. The atmosphere in Master’s quarters was usually more relaxed unless there was company over, but tonight the room felt somber and quiet. Maybe that was it. Maybe a guest had come calling late and they needed her to run a message or something. She felt better thinking along these lines and quickly walked through the doorway, giving a polite curtsey as she entered.
“You wished to see me, Master?” she said. As she finished her curtsey she looked up and saw Master Illuran sitting behind her desk. She was dressed in her green robes trimmed with silver that identified her as a Master. Her wavy brown-and-silver hair was pulled back into a tight braid that accented the sharp features of her face. She had a brown ribbon woven throughout the braid that was tied at the end into a bow. Maryn had always liked that style but never dared to copy it for fear that Master wouldn’t approve. Wyllam was standing next to her. There was no one else in the room. The serious looks on their faces brought back all the apprehension she had been feeling just moments ago. She had grown up with both of them, rarely had she seen them this serious when no one else was around.
“Yes,” Illuran replied. She looked at Tilly. “Thank you for bringing her, you may prepare yourself for bed now. It will be a while, I think. I will call if I have need.”
“Yes, milady,” Tilly said with a small curtsey. She backed out of the room and closed the door behind her. Illuran waited until the door was fully closed before addressing Maryn.
“Come here, child. Have a seat.” She gestured at the chair in front of her desk. Maryn walked slowly across the room on shaking legs and carefully climbed into the chair. It was still a little large for her. She was almost ten but had always been small for her age. Tilly said it was probably because she was an orphan. “Wyllam tells me you were asking about the war today,” Illuran said.
So this was because she had asked about the war! Maryn flushed with anger and shot Wyllam a glare. Traitor, she thought. She must have accidentally mindspoken her thoughts because Illuran gave her a stern look.
“You must control your anger and your thoughts, child. Wyllam has betrayed nothing. He only informed me of your conversation this morning after I told him I was planning on summoning you tonight. It is time you learned about this war, as very soon it will affect us all, and maybe you more than others.”
Maryn looked down and flushed with embarrassment. She did not normally lose her temper so easily, but the strangeness of the situation had put her off guard. “Yes, Milady. I apologize for my outburst and will strive to control myself better in the future.” She repeated the apology automatically, the response having been drilled into her repeatedly throughout her entire life. She looked back up and said: “please ma’am, what do you mean by the war will affect me soon? Brother Wyllam said we were quite safe here in the Village.”
“To understand what I mean you must understand the nature of the war,” Master Illuran said. Maryn sat up straighter and listened intently, this was not what she had expected at all. Instead of a scolding, she was getting an explanation. Though she was still confused as to why they were only telling her and not the other children too. Or why it could not have waited until morning, or why Wyllam was there as well. She had so many questions but felt it was wise to hold her tongue. The answers would come, she was sure. “As you are well aware,” Illuran continued. “The Ungifted cannot use the Gift. Throughout history, we of the Chosen have shared the Gift willingly, for the benefit of all. This is evident in the roads we helped cut through steep mountains and the bridges over wide and deep canyons that we helped craft. The lights that shine on the streets of Rousch and the water which flows through their pipes are all because of the Gift. For centuries the Chosen and Ungifted have lived together in relative harmony. All of this you already know.” Maryn nodded. She learned all that years ago when her lessons first began. “What you don’t know is that there has been discord rising for a long time amongst both the Ungifted and the Chosen. There are those within the Ungifted who are jealous of our powers and want it for themselves. There are also those within the Chosen who feel that we should not share the Gift at all. They feel that the Gift chose us for a reason and that the Ungifted are not worthy of benefiting from its blessings. We did not always live exclusively in the Village but had many communities amongst the cities and villages of the Ungifted. It has only been in the last few generations that we have moved all of our people here. That is why many of the living quarters are newer than the Hall of the Chosen or the library. This used to be a place where only the great scholars lived, and the rest of the Chosen only came here for gatherings and research.”
This was news to Maryn. She had noticed that some of the buildings in the Village seemed newer while buildings such as the Great Hall and the library were indeed quite old, but she had never given much thought as to why. It was just the way it was. “Why did everyone have to move here? Was it the war?”
Illuran shook her head. “No, child. The war only began recently, but the discord that was growing between us and the Ungifted was getting so bad that our people began facing poor treatment and threats from some of the Ungifted. Some of the town leaders began making laws that required the Chosen to use the Gift to grant any request the Ungifted would make. No matter how unreasonable or impossible it may have been. The penalties for failure to comply were often severe. It became unsafe for us to live amongst the Ungifted any longer, so we gathered here.”
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A sudden thought struck her. “Is that why some of the Masters were watching me closely for so long? Because I came from the Ungifted?”
Illuran actually smiled at this. “Very perceptive. I’m impressed that you put that together so quickly. Yes, some of the Masters were very much against my acceptance of you; some of the Chosen still very deeply feel the sting of being driven from their homes and had no love for the Ungifted. Even now, after you turned out so well, my acceptance of young Mara has not been a popular choice either.”
Maryn thought about this for a moment. She had to admit that she had been so focused on her own studies that she had not spent much time with the new child. She was so young that Maryn didn’t find playing with her much fun, and she needed a lot of attention from the servants. She also cried a lot, even though she was five and should have outgrown such things by now, so Maryn generally avoided her as much as she could. She hadn’t thought about their similar backgrounds at all. She felt a sudden kinship with the little girl and decided that she would start acting like a big sister to her, much like Wyllam had done with her.
Maryn guessed that these tensions Illuran had mentioned had finally broken out into a war, but something still didn’t make sense to her. “Why are you suddenly telling me all this now? I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“We need your help,” Illuran said. At first, Maryn wasn’t sure she had heard correctly. How could they need her help with a war she had only just learned about? One look at Master Illuran and Wyllam’s faces told her that they were very serious. “There is more still that you have not been told. Wars are seldom simple affairs, and blame enough can be cast on both sides more often than not. We are not entirely innocent in this conflict, though there are plenty who would call me a traitor for saying so.”
Wyllam snorted at this – the first sound he had made since Maryn had entered the room. “Plenty already have,” he said derisively.
Illuran turned to him and gave him a hard glare. “Careful, young Brother. You may be one of the Chosen now, and therefore able to speak your mind freely, but have a care how you speak of your elders. They still hold much power over your future. You only want to make enemies of those you know you can defeat.”
Wyllam lowered his eyes and bowed his head slightly. “Yes, Master. Please forgive my impertinence.”
Illuran nodded, content with his reply. “Please inform young Maryn of her part in all this.”
“A while back, while I was still an apprentice, I assisted some other Brothers and Sisters who were working on a special project. The goal of this project was to try and find a way to allow the Ungifted a means of using the Gift without requiring one of the Chosen to be present. The hope was that by offering them this option it could help to ease some of the tension that had been building,” Wyllam began. It did not surprise Maryn that he had assisted the Chosen on a project while he was an apprentice, he had often done so. In his last few years, he had become very proficient and studied many advanced subjects and techniques. It did surprise her to learn that he had helped with such an important task though. She looked at him with new respect and hoped that someday she could be as good a student as he was.
“It was extremely complicated,” he continued, “and required an incredible amount of research into ancient and obscure writings from the oldest known Masters. We were met with failure after failure. Many of us working on the project became ill from constantly depleting our bodies of the Gift.” Maryn thought she remembered that time now. About a year ago he had been so deeply engrossed in a project that he had little time to help her with her studies and would come home exhausted almost every night. She remembered it because at the time she had been mad at him for not paying enough attention to her. Now she felt a little foolish for being so selfish. If she had known he was trying to help stop a war she might have been a little nicer to him in her thoughts.
“One day we finally succeeded. We had been trying to craft a stone that was able to store the Gift within it in much the same way that the Gift is stored within our own bodies. What we had not realized was that another factor is needed, which is the mind. In order to use the Gift properly, you must control it with your mind, not just possess it within you. So we crafted a second, less powerful stone that would allow the Ungifted to use their minds to properly channel the Gift from the other stone. The results were far beyond what we expected. The stone which stored the Gift was capable of containing far more of the Gift than we ever imagined it could. It absorbed so much of the Gift from the area around us that we began to wonder if it would ever stop. We were genuinely worried for a moment that it would start drawing it out of us once it drained the land. Thankfully it did not, but we were still astonished at how much power it could hold, and at how quickly it filled. Even the strongest Master cannot replenish their own stores as quickly as this stone. We quickly realized that whoever used this stone would have access to nearly unlimited stores of the Gift.
“The other stone amazed us as well. It had been intended as an aid, to help those without the Gift focus their minds and direct it how they wanted. We found that when one of the Chosen held the stone they could manipulate the Gift within themselves in ways never before possible. They would have a clarity of mind never before attained. I was honestly terrified the first time I felt the presence of one of my Brother’s minds as he held the stone. I never used it myself, it was too overwhelming.”
Maryn sat in her seat listening intently. She had no idea something like that had been created. It fascinated her. Though she was still at a loss to see what any of this had to do with her.
“We realized that we could not turn such powerful items over to the Ungifted. Indeed it seemed that it would be dangerous for even the Chosen to have such items at their disposal. On my suggestion, we brought them to Master Illuran to seek her advice.” He paused and looked over at Illuran as he said this, silently asking her if he should continue. She nodded. “After evaluating the stones for herself she agreed that they were too powerful to be used. We tried destroying them, but they resisted any attempts we made – both physical and through the Gift. Eventually we abandoned the project and turned the stones over to Master Illuran for safekeeping. She has them to this day, and only she knows their whereabouts.”
“So if the stones are safely hidden away, what’s the problem?” Maryn could no longer contain herself. Illuran raised her eyebrows and Maryn shrunk back slightly.
“Don’t interrupt,” Illuran warned. “If that is where the story ended then we would not be having this conversation right now, and you would have never known about the stones. No – somehow word of the stone’s existence came to the ears of the Council of Masters, despite my stern warnings to the others to maintain strict secrecy. It was not easy, but I was able to convince them that it was best for me to continue hiding the stones and prevent them from being used by anyone. Many on the Council no longer trust me as completely as they used to and are keeping a close eye on me now.”
Maryn swallowed the questions bubbling up in her. “Even more concerning to me was that shortly after things settled down with the Council a messenger from Rousch arrived,” Illuran continued. “It seemed that word of the stones had somehow reached the Capitol, and they were demanding that we immediately turn them over. They claimed that we were hiding powerful weapons and that if we didn’t surrender them it was a sign of hostile intentions and a declaration of war. The fact that all the Chosen were leaving their homes and gathering in the Village was also taken as a sign that we were preparing to move against them. While the Council and I were not in agreement on a great many things, we all agreed that under no circumstances could we allow the Ungifted to have the stones. We delayed our response long enough to gather the last of the Chosen here in the Village and then gave our answer. Thus war was upon us.”
“When did this happen?” Maryn asked. She was thinking back on the last year, but couldn’t remember anything happening that was out of the ordinary.
“About six months ago,” Wyllam answered. “Most of the Chosen were already here, we only had to send messages out to a few outliers who were still living in far-off villages that had little interest in the political dealings of the larger world or were living in isolated locations by themselves.”
“Until recently we have been in a state of cold war,” Illuran said. “Do you understand what that means?”
Maryn thought about it for a moment. She had never heard the term before but could guess its meaning. “Does that mean no one is really fighting yet?”
“Very good,” Illuran smiled. “Mostly we have been focusing on bolstering our defensive position here. Reinforcing the defenses on the walls and structures in the village as well as the base of our mountain. I’m sure the Ungifted have been preparing their armies as well. This is just the calm before the storm, all-out war is coming soon.”
The time seemed right, and Maryn allowed the question that had been lurking just below the surface ever since the conversation began to finally burst out. “So what does this have to do with me? You said that his war would affect me more than others and that you needed my help, but I don’t know what I could do?” The words were tumbling out as fast as she could say them, and she was sure Master would scold her for it. Instead, she just smiled calmly and pulled two small stones from a drawer of her desk. They were both polished and smooth and were such a deep black that she felt like she would fall right into them if she kept looking too long. The larger of the two was about the size of a peach pit, the other was only about the size of a toy marble.
“Are these what all this trouble is about?” Maryn asked. Still gazing at them.
“Indeed child,” Illuran said. “It hardly seems possible that things such as these could cause a war, does it not? But, wars have started for less, in the past.”
“But...” Maryn began. Illuran put up a hand to stop her.
“As all-out war draws closer I have been constantly approached by several members of the Council who would have us use these stones for our own benefit to aid in the coming war. I have deep misgivings about this. I believe the Council truly does intend to use the stones for the good of the Chosen but I do not believe it would stop there. Once someone gets a taste of the kind of power these stones offer it is nearly impossible to give up.”
Wyllam stepped out from behind the desk and placed a hand on Maryn’s shoulder. “We called you here tonight to ask for your help. We will not force you, what we are asking is risky, but it is worth the risk, we believe.”
“I have decided to send one of the stones away, where no one can use it,” Illuran said. “I see the day coming, probably very soon, where the Council will take the stones from me by force. If one of them is gone then even if they find the other, it will be of little use. I plan on sending the larger stone, the one that holds the Gift within it, to another world – one that knows nothing of the Gift. This stone poses the larger risk, I feel. The quantities of the Gift it is able to contain are unimaginable. If someone with evil intentions were to have access to that much power the results could be catastrophic. The smaller stone, which is still very powerful in its own right, merely allows one to shape and control the Gift. If the Ungifted were to get ahold of it there would be little they could use it for.
“There is still a risk that if someone from this other world discovers the stone and the power it holds that it could be used for ill. I delayed sending the stone away for this reason. I could never rest easy wondering if the stone was causing problems for the world I sent it to. I thought long and hard and read many books before I found a solution. Wyllam stumbled upon the solution, actually, during his studies.”
“During my research I had read about an old method of copying someone’s mind and transferring it to another person,” Wyllam said. “The ancients used this technique to try to prolong their own lifespans by transferring their memories and personality into the mind of another, usually someone whose own mind had left them from the Long Sleep or another injury. Occasionally they would kidnap or coerce someone into relinquishing their own mind, which is why the practice fell into disfavor and was ultimately forbidden. Eventually, it was forgotten about altogether, for the better, I feel. In this instance though, I think we can copy someone’s mind and place it within the stone, leaving the original subject’s mind intact. The copy would act as a sort of teacher, or guide, who can instruct anyone who finds the stone on its dangers and discourage them from using it.”
A knot had been growing in Maryn’s stomach ever since Wyllam had said their request would be risky. Now she guessed that they meant for it to be her mind which would be copied. She felt like she was going to be sick. “But, why do you need to use me?” she asked, a little desperately. “Wouldn’t yours or Master’s be a better choice? Both of you know much more about everything than I do.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised that you guessed what we would be asking of you,” Wyllam said with a humorless chuckle. “I know it’s scary. That’s why I’ve been so quiet lately. I was hoping to find a way other than asking you to do this thing.” The pained look on his face told her he was truly sorry to even be asking. That didn’t make her feel much better – it actually scared her even more. Was it really such a risky plan? What could go wrong that had them so worried? She could guess, and it made her shudder. Her every instinct told her to scream “no!” at them and run from the room. But in her heart she had already agreed to help, no matter what they asked of her. How could she not? Master had taken her in when no one else would and had given her a life that was already far better than it had ever had any right to be. Wyllam had been a brother to her when she had no other family. She owed everything she was to the two people in this room. She would die for them if they asked, even if she would really rather not.
Master Illuran smiled sadly. “It tears my heart apart to ask you to do this. I never ask anyone to do something that I won’t do myself. If I could take your place I would have already done it, but I’m afraid you are the only one here who can. You see, Wyllam and I are too old to do this safely. A mind that has been using the Gift for a long time naturally resists the process of being copied. A young mind, one that is strong in the Gift but not trained in its ways yet is the easiest to copy. Mara is too young and Marcus is not strong enough in the Gift. Also, your knowledge of the Gift is much higher than most children your age and will be of much help when training the copy in the knowledge it will need to do its job correctly.
“Besides that, Wyllam and I are the only ones capable of performing the procedure. We have both studied the ancient texts long and hard. They are full of warnings and accounts of the Chosen who tried without proper preparation and training and never awoke from the procedure. The texts did not, however, explain how to prepare. Since the process was forbidden it wasn’t necessary to include such things. Please, don’t answer tonight. I know this is a lot to ask of someone so young. Think about it for the night. You know what some of the risks are, there may be even more risks that we don’t know about. This is a procedure that has not been tried for centuries and was designed for transferring a copy from one person to another, not from one person into an object.”
She smiled softly again, something Maryn was not used to seeing. “I can hear your thoughts, you’re transmitting them even now. I know how scared you are. If your answer is ‘no,’ we will never speak of this again, and we will find another way. Neither of us would think less of you.”
Maryn blushed briefly. She realized that she was quite warm, a sign that she was letting the Gift flow freely. She concentrated for a moment and felt the warmth receding. She definitely needed to control that better.
She sat quietly for a long time after that, while Master Illuran and Wyllam waited patiently. She was strongly tempted to say “no.” Master had given her that option. She had even promised that there would be no consequences if she did. She could start her apprenticeship in a few days and life would carry on just as it was supposed to. Until the war reached them, that was. Now that she knew about the war and the stones nothing would ever be the same. If there was a chance that she could help, that something she could do could help keep the Chosen safe, then she had to do it or she could never live with herself. She didn’t need to sleep on it. “Please, Master Illuran. If you don’t mind, I already have my answer,” she said at length.
“Are you certain, my child?” Illuran asked. “This is not something to enter into lightly.”
Maryn nodded. “I’m certain. I will help. I am scared, but I could never live with myself if I knew there was something I could have done to help but didn’t just because it was scary. You and Brother Wyllam have given me everything when I had nothing. Now it is time I give something back. Even if that means my life.”
Wyllam bent down and picked her up, squeezing her tightly in a hug. “Thank you Maryn,” he said. “This is incredibly brave of you.”
“Please remember yourself, Brother Wyllam,” Illuran said, looking exasperated. Wyllam set her back down in the chair, grinning. “If this works,” Illuran continued. “Your first assignment as an apprentice will be to accompany Brother Wyllam on his journey to send the stone through the portal to the other world.”
Maryn had almost forgotten about that. She had never heard of other worlds before. “Master Illuran, just what do you mean when you talk about another world?”
“That is a topic for another time. We have talked long enough for tonight. Please accompany Maryn to her room, Brother Wyllam. We should all get some rest. There is much we need to do tomorrow to prepare.”
*********************************************************
Tilly met them outside the door to the servant’s quarters. From the concerned look on her face, it was clear to Maryn that she had been waiting anxiously for some time. Maryn turned and curtsied to Wyllam. “Thank you for the escort, Brother Wyllam.”
“It was my pleasure. Please have a pleasant night, Maryn.” He bowed in return, then took his leave.
“What did Master want to speak to you about?” Tilly asked. In the servant’s quarters there was no formality, they were all equals after all, and most had grown up together.
“She told me all about the war,” Maryn said with a glance towards Wyllam as he departed. “I suppose you already know about it, right?”
Tilly nodded. “Yes, I do. But why did Master call you in so late just to tell you about it? It seemed so serious, and Brother Wyllam was there too. I was worried about you.”
“I was worried too, I thought I had done something wrong. I guess she just wanted to tell me about it since I’ll be starting my apprenticeship soon. I don’t know why Wyllam was there, maybe she thought I’d cry or something.” Maryn felt terrible lying to Tilly but knew better than to tell her the whole truth.
“Well, I’m glad everything is fine. The looks on their faces really did have me worried. Goodnight, Maryn,” Tilly said and opened the door to her own chamber, which was next to the servant’s quarters.
“Goodnight, Tilly,” Maryn said quietly and went into her own room. She changed back into her nightclothes and crawled into bed. She touched the light orb that sat on her end table and it went out, covering the room in darkness. Everything was not fine and Maryn found no rest that night.
*******************************************************
Two days later the time had come for the procedure. Maryn dressed in her pink-trimmed robes as usual that morning. For the last time, she hoped. Master had said that this would be her last day as a child. After the procedure was finished she would be initiated as a full apprentice. She had Tilly help her put her hair in a braid, weaving a pink ribbon throughout the braid and tying it in a bow at the end. She was not feeling very brave today and felt that copying Master’s hairstyle would help. Wyllam had reassured her that the procedure would be painless. All she had to do was lay down and take a nap. He and Illuran would do the rest. If everything went as it was supposed to then she would wake up and go about her business as normal. She would be the same girl she had always been. If it went well.
The walk from the servant’s quarters seemed to take forever, but it was over before she was ready for it to be. The butterflies in her stomach made her feel sick and her legs felt like they would collapse underneath her at any moment as she walked down the short hall and across the great room. Every step she took filled her with dread until she found herself at Master Illuran’s door. She stood there looking at it for what seemed an eternity. Finally, she forced herself to reach up and knock. The sound was so quiet and timid that she was sure no one could hear it. Moments later, however, Maryn heard a reply from the other side. “Enter.”
She slowly opened the door and passed through. She curtsied as best as she could manage on her shaky legs and said nervously, “I am here, Master Illuran.”
“Please close the door, child, and come in,” Illuran said from her seat behind her desk, where she was busy writing something down in a leather-bound book. She spoke as calmly as if Maryn was reporting for her studies. Maryn had no idea how she could be so calm on a day like this. She closed the door and slowly walked across the room to Master Illuran’s desk. Wyllam was standing at a small table that had been set up next to Master’s bed. It had several books and bits of paper spread out on it and a few vials of various colored liquids. He looked up as Maryn closed the door and smiled softly at her before turning back to his task. Maryn nervously stood in front of Master Illuran’s desk and shakily curtsied again, then waited for Master to address her.
“Good morning, Maryn,” Master Illuran said as she put down her pen and turned to look at her. “I want to give you one more chance to change your mind. You have had a few days to think about this now, and may have realized that the risk is more than you are willing to bear. I do not want you doing this because you feel like you have no choice. This may be the only time I ever give you the freedom to refuse a request from me.”
Maryn fought down the urge to accept Illuran’s offer and to run back to her room and forget that this whole thing ever happened. “Thank you Master Illuran,” she said instead. “I made a commitment, and I will see it through. No matter how scary it is.”
“Very well,” Illuran nodded. “Brother Wyllam is nearly finished with the preparations. We will begin shortly.” She closed the book she had been writing in. Two leather straps wrapped themselves around it and joined themselves together at the ends, forming a pair of seamless bands around the book. She then took it and set it in a drawer.
It was then that Maryn remembered something she had wanted to ask about. “Excuse me, Master I do have a question though.”
“Yes, child. What is it?”
“This is only going to be a copy of my mind. It won’t actually be me going in the stone, right?”
“That is correct,” Illuran said.
“But if it is a true copy then it will still think it is me. Won’t that be scary and confusing for it when it wakes up inside a stone? I feel pretty bad putting it through all that.”
“You are correct,” Illuran said. She looked a little concerned at the thought. “I have thought of that myself. I’m afraid I will be required to restrict its memories to only the bare essentials, such as language skills and other necessities for interaction with humans. I will then have to explain its function as a protector of the stone and what that entails. I will also give it some knowledge of the procedures it may need to use in carrying out its role as guardian of the stone. I will tell it that it was modeled after a student of mine but make sure it understands that it is not actually you. I will call it Marynstone, in your honor.” With that, she reached into another drawer and pulled the stone out.
Maryn was impressed that Master Illuran had given it that much thought. She couldn’t help feeling bad for the copy, however. It sounded like a pretty bleak existence. She reassured herself that it would not actually be alive, but more like a reflection – something that looked real, but wasn’t.
Illuran still looked a bit troubled and was looking at the stone in her hand intently. Maryn asked her what was wrong. “Unfortunately I will not be able to perform the alteration procedures before the stone becomes self-aware. I’m afraid it may be a bit traumatic for the copy at first. But that is for me to worry about. You will still be asleep when it wakes up. I do not want you to have to endure feeling your own presence, the effect can be extremely unpleasant if the ancient texts are correct. So I shall perform the alterations while you sleep, then place the stone in a state of hibernation before allowing you to awaken.”
That made Maryn feel a little better. The thought of feeling herself – but not herself – in another object, afraid and confused, was not something she wanted to go through.
“It looks like Brother Wyllam is ready,” Illuran said. “If you have no more questions then I think we should begin. There is no point in delaying.”
Maryn nodded. The butterflies in her stomach, which had settled down while she and Master were talking, all took flight again. She followed Master Illuran across the room and climbed onto the bed as if in a dream. The next thing she saw was Wyllam and Master leaning over her.
“Brother Wyllam will be performing the actual procedure,” Master Illuran said. “I will be here to help him if needed, but my primary job will come afterward – performing the alterations and preparing the new copy for its role of guardian.”
Maryn nodded. She looked at both Wyllam and Master Illuran. “Will you both be here when I wake up?”
“Of course, kiddo,” Wyllam said. It was the first time he had spoken since she had arrived. Maryn noticed he looked tired and concerned. She realized he had probably been up all night preparing for this. She forced herself to smile at him, even though she didn’t feel like smiling at all.
“You’ll do great,” she said. “I have faith in you.” She reached out a hand and he held it in his. He smiled down at her.
“Now sleep, my child,” Illuran said. “When you wake up you will be a hero, and no longer a child.” She began murmuring some words that Maryn couldn’t understand. She felt an odd sensation in her mind as a warmth began to spread through her body. This was the first time she had ever had a procedure performed on her; it felt different than when she used the Gift, but the same as well. As she lay there pondering this, darkness came over her like a warm blanket.
End