Raynes Ha Verna

Quartz King Chronicles Book 1

By: Logan

You have to understand, It’s not that I’m the type of person that wants to walk on the left just because everyone else is walking on the right, I don’t have any problem walking on the right. I just want to go left so I can understand why I’m doing it. I want to see for myself if it's the best course to take.

Court Penner’s perspective.

         Raynes Ha Verna seemed to stand weakly before the grand council. The Penner had met the man only once before, long before his now 20 years, and as a young boy, he had seemed strong, able, almost threatening even to a council member… He seemed now fragile, straining under even the weight of his malnourished frame, his eyes heavy and distant. It was not uncommon that the piercing ceremony took much from the bodies of those who gave themselves to the trial; the Penners' own memories of his piercing in his youth were some of the most painful he possessed, but none had come out withered, almost destroyed as Ha Verna had. The dull stone atmosphere of the old courtroom did little to liven the look of the boy.

         There was, however, no denying what stood before him. His eyes turned to the boy's identifier piercing. Seven sides… not unheard of, though not seen for centuries in one newly pierced. Under normal circumstances, this boy would have been hailed as the next prodigy of Vallis, but it was his earring that brought him now to trial.

         As the rumors had spoken, a long thin cylindrical rod, curved at the end.

         “The court is faced with a new issue here.” The center seat of the grand council's voice was controlled and soft, but it rang through the chambers in a way that almost dared someone to challenge to speak above him. “The events that have come to pass here could be devastating, or could be nothing… what terrifies this old soul of mine is that, quite simply, I don’t know.” Spero Arien was an old man, high-cheekboned and graying in his latest years, wire framed circular glasses magnified still vibrant green eyes. He was a surprisingly upbeat personality, a whimsical smile placed just off center of his face at all but the direst of moments. It was of some hope for the young Ha Verna that the smile remained now. “Strange that this council convenes without an actual infraction of the Hard law…” he pushed his glasses up as he briefly scanned one of the documents before him. “And stranger yet that I have in front of me a request for Ha Verna’s exile?” he looked up questioningly, almost laughingly at the situation. Then without warning he tossed the documents over his head, the pages splitting and raining down like snow behind him as his soft face took to Ha Verna, “I see no reason for action as serious as this, if the grand council were to exile every new development we would be…” his eyes turned to the council members seated around him, knowing that though the documents did not state who submitted them, one of the remaining eight members of the grand council would have needed to call for Ha Verna’s exile for the report to land before him now. “unfit…” he let the word linger as if tossing it about, testing if it was worthy “to council a world such as ours.

         There was, the Penner knew, a reason no one challenged Arien for his title of Spero. His head may have seemed ever in the Ferris, but his mind was terribly sharp, and his weaving and sparking, frightening.  

          “This does not mean that action is not in order.” Arien’s eyes returned to Ha Verna “Clearly our procedures were broken, and while not illegal, dangerous actions taken on one's own are frowned upon…” He looked deep into the form of Ha Verna. “I believe we need a full understanding of this situation.” He paused, considering his options. “The time of the council is valuable, and Ha Verna is weak… Penner.” he shifted his glasses down and his eyes turned toward him.

          The Penner was suddenly aware of the weight that came with being under the eyes of the Spero, he was not even under scrutiny but the simple act of being seen by Arien made him conscious of every movement he made. “Yes, Spero Arien?”

         “Take down the accounts of Raynes Ha Verna in private, leave out no detail… I wish to know exactly why we stand here today. Have your account prepared by the day after next and request your high scribes to copy your work. The council members will read this report in private, and return here in a week armed with the knowledge necessary to act on the situation at hand.”

       There was a murmur among the council, a few of the members had actively shrunken into their chairs. The Penner silently figured that more than one of the nine people seated here had called for Ha Verna’s exile. The boy himself stood eerily silent, he couldn't tell if it was wisdom enough to know when to keep his mouth shut, or an inability to speak that silenced him. “As you wish,” Penner said with a humble bow.

        There were a few more exchanged words within the council chairs but for the most part things wrapped up quite effectively. The council were the type of people who much preferred doing things to talking about doing things, and they were all more than happy to be relieved of a session. The save exception being Parma Tsura. The weapons mistress was the only elder besides Arien on the council, though she was present not to represent the Elders, but to represent the Blacksmiths. Her 48 years had been rough ones lived in the heart of a smoke bellowing forge, the soot of the years had driven its way into her skin. Her cropped short, once dirty blonde hair had been stained nearly black. She was a warrior, and well known to be brash and standoffish. She was also the best blacksmith Vallis had ever known. Tsura was the last to leave the chambers, she watched Ha Verna with cold calculating eyes. They were the eyes of someone who had plans for the young boy on trial, whether those plans would mean ill or grace toward the boy, the Penner could only speculate.

       The Penners quill furiously tore its way across the page as he scribbled down the proceedings of the day, over the years he had found that the tip of the instrument moved itself at most times, dunked itself in the ink and carved out the court's words all without any real thought from the penner himself. Today he focused, racing through line after line and pushing out papers with all the go he could muster. The story of Raynes Ha Verna was the story of the century at least, that he would be the Penner, even his normal stoic blood rushed. The telling would not be until the morning, but he needed new quills and finer parchment, he was to be signing his name onto a piece of history… his pride in his quill forced him to ensure it was a piece of art. Signing his name to the bottom of the final document he looked up at the now empty courtroom, he often had mixed feelings about the room. The system they used to dispense judgment at this level was archaic, dangerous even. It ran smoothly and gracefully due to the goodness of Spero Arien, but he had always wondered what would happen were a lesser man to take his place. That, he figured was the rise and fall of all monarchies, the competency of the king.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

       As he left the cold and hollow chambers of the court he was met by the starlight beginning to shine through the dwindling light of the sun, the empty halls would soon darken as well when the sun finally lost its tireless fight with the horizon. Checking his materials he turned for the door.

       “Oh Penner…” the voice that rang out behind him was sing-song, sultry, and sure. “I’ve come to understand you’ll be interviewing my son.

       The Penner turned, catching his breath halfway in his throat. Raynes Ha Presella; the head of the Raynes household, was justly called a force of nature, and to describe her as a beautiful woman would have been to describe a hurricane as a gust of wind, or a monsoon as a spot of rain. The silhouette she cut backlit by the falling sun would have had normal men to their knees, and he himself could manage but to remember to bow as politely as he could. “Yes, Ha Presella. I will be attending him in the morning.”

       “I always liked you…” she fancied whimsically as she approached, letting her hips move just enough she knew his eyes would be drawn to them. “I’d always wished I’d had the honor of your lecture in the Keep…” he tensed as she approached and positioned herself close to him, she pulled his head to the side with one finger touching the base of his chin and whispered in his ear. “Your questions tomorrow need only start from the time Ha Verna was six…” suddenly he felt her fingernail dig unnaturally into his throat as if it was poised to rip it out. “Anything before then is irrelevant. Am I understood?” The last of her speech lost all manner of sing-song and drowned itself in bloodlust, the chill it left running up his spine nearly denied him words.

       “I... I will be certain to remember, Ha Presella.”

       Apparently assuaged by the Penners answer Ha Presella’s fingertips traced down the Penners chest before she let them fall to her side. “I’m so glad we can see eye to eye on such matters,” her voice had returned to sultry and innocent “the members of the court are always so agreeable.”

       A sigh of relief washed over the Penner as she turned and made her way from the hall, her long soft curled hair swaying as she rounded the corner. The stories that followed the Lady of house Raynes were many and bone-chilling, her love of the adult and the pleasurable was matched only by tales of her ruthlessness and insanity. She was a character of which crossing was dangerous and getting into bed with quite possibly fatal. How Arien managed to keep her and the other great weavers in check he could only guess.

       Gathering his wits the Penner wondered briefly how anyone in house Raynes survived on a daily basis… the house had always been a band of misfits in Vallis. Unlike the normal houses who were comprised of actual families, the Raynes house had always been a collection of orphans. Ha Presella alone rightfully held the name Raynes, but she and her father had been adopting street goers since she came of age. The house held three others besides herself and Ha Verna, all genius weavers despite their oddities. In retrospect... the penner thought as he found his way to his chambers, if a situation like this was going to come from anywhere, he should have known house Raynes would be its origin.

         The Penner was up long before the eighth hour, his inkwells and his parchment prepared and sorted, he took his seat at his old oak desk… he could think of little to do but clear his mind and let his hands rest. As a recorder of history he had given up all in an attempt to not interfere with the happenings of the world around him, he never intervened, never spoke up. He emptied himself that he could be filled with the story, then he would empty himself again onto the pages. He sat like this, quiet, emptying himself and breathing in and out the air of the room. The smell of the parchment would have passed any normal soul, but he had come to know it more than he knew any other thing. He could sense the grain and the tension, he felt the edges with his hands and knew by touch how far to the border he could write and the words would remain solid on the page. He allowed himself emptiness in all other manner than the tools he needed.

         There was no knock on the door, the guards had been instructed to allow Ha Verna into his chambers at the mark of the 8th hour. He was surprised to find the boys 6’3 frame in better shape than it had looked before, some good food and rest had given him the strength to walk under his own power. Still, he looked tired, and one meal would not be enough to replenish all the form that was lost in his days following the piercing ceremony. His brown hair had been cut short now, his four-day beard framed an angled jaw and relentlessly blue eyes. His face seemed surprisingly at ease. “It’s an honor, Ha Verna. The stories of your adventures in the Steel Keep have spread far and wide…” a quick shake of the young man's hand told the Penner that his weakened frame did not equate to an absence of strength.

       “They are greatly exaggerated I’m sure…” Ha Verna’s voice was firm, not as deep as the Penner had expected from a man his size, but firm. It held the similar quality and carry to the Spero himself. He spoke holding up his arms defensively as if waving off the idea.

       “They say you fought Yur Merith to a draw in your third year,” the penner pressed. “That you waltzed through the walls of the keep at will, and that you chased a watching beast into the Ferris and came back with its head.”

       “I fought Yur Merith dozens of times and managed only one draw” Verna countered. “a network of sealed tunnels under the castle do not make for the ability to walk through walls, and the Watching Beast was as much luck as skill.”

       “And the sirens?” the Penners eyebrow raised, “How many of them did you kill in defense of Councilman Garreth?”

       Verna’s eyes darkened considerably, then after a brief moment lightened again and a weak smile crossed his face. “I think the stories are saying seven now? or is it eight?”

       “I heard twelve at the shops just yesterday morning.” the Penner retorted. “The rumor mill is especially alive as of late.”

       “It was three, and there were circumstances…” Verna took a deep long breath. “The truth will come out today anyway I imagine.” he nodded to the parchment and quill.

       “Yes, and I'm afraid we have little time to waste” the Penner waved in the guard in the hall with one hand while gesturing Ha Verna to his seat with the other. “The table in front of Raynes Ha Verna should never be without the finest food and drink this day, tell Spero Arien I have deemed it necessary, the cost should be no consequence.”

       “Thank you…” Ha Verna stopped himself as the Penner pulled out his quill, but quickly regained his composure. “So, how does this work?”

       The Penner readied his things and found his favorite position in his chair, “Tell the truth, in as much detail as you can muster. I have here a pardon from any crimes you have committed save murder, and you will receive no judgment from myself or the council.” Verna looked surprised as he read the pardon. An all inclusive get out of jail free for nearly every crime in Vallis. “They are trying to burn you for much bigger things than misdemeanors, Ha Verna.” it was odd to the Penner that the young man looked comforted by the thought.  “Your words will flow from you into me, and from me to the page. It is as simple as that.” he finished with a smile that he hoped would set Ha Verna at ease.

       He suddenly felt a chill up his spine and could almost feel Ha Presella’s nails in his neck. “Let's begin from your sixth year.”