Ellen Targhetta finished up the stitches in the side of Sir Gerhold Wentry using one of the brand-new needles her apprentice had picked up earlier that day. Sera looked on as her mistress tied a knot in the small thread with a practiced routine of her slender fingers. The apprentice physic had been able to stabilize the knight before she had run to get her seasoned mentor. Sera didn’t have sufficient experience to close off a wound of that size, nor did she have the authority to administer several of the potent elixirs Ellen had issued to the patient.
Where Sera’s physic skills fell short, she found that her faith-based abilities took over. Though she was primarily a physic and spent 30 hours a week in that field, her training under Priestess Salindra had shown her considerable promise as a faith healer. She had prayed over the injured knight and had been able to bring him into a comatose state before she left his side. The wound had still been oozing, but the bleeding slowed enough that when Ellen had arrived, Gerhold was still alive and would likely stay that way now that the master physic had tended to him.
“You saved his life,” Ellen said to her student as she turned from the knight. Between the two of them, they had managed to move him to the kitchen table. “Your skills are progressing well.”
“Thank you, Mistress,” Sera replied humbly. She had not told her teacher that she felt it was her spiritual gifts that had probably staved off death. She spent much less time in that training, but, like her fighting skills, which she spent even fewer hours practicing, she picked them up easily. Although, to be a fully trained physic, with a license to operate on patients and administer elixirs, took a full six years and not the usual four that most other apprenticeships required. So, while Ethan was almost finished, Sera was not yet halfway through her training. It did pain her to think that she might have chosen her profession poorly, as she seemed to have more strength in other areas, but she also realized she was spending the most time on the thing that was hardest for her, and, as she had explained to Ethan, she felt all her disciplines worked well together.
“You will need to stay with him through the night,” Ellen instructed as she bound the wound with fresh bandages. “I do not expect to see you at the clinic tomorrow. If he wakes up,” she paused and turned to rummage through her satchel, pulling out a small vial filled with blue liquid, “give him this.” The older woman gave Sera a stern look, letting her know she was to follow those orders precisely. She turned back to finish securing the bandage. “I don’t think he will stir until morning, but you should give him this to drink immediately if he does.”
Sera nodded and took the elixir, knowing what violating her instructions concerning the potent drug would mean. She put it in a safe location within the kitchen.
Ellen finished dressing the wound and began to load her bag. “Is there anything else you need before I leave?”
Sera looked out of the window toward the back of the cabin in the direction that Ethan had gone. “Ethanial will be returning soon, I hope. He may also require physical attention.”
The master physic nodded and set aside a couple of needles, thread, bandages, and a few less potent ointments and elixirs. “Take care of them,” she said solemnly. “I will see you in two days. We will return to this cabin to see how your patient has progressed.” Ellen met her student’s eyes to let her know she had spoken purposefully. She had called Sir Gerhold Sera’s patient.
“I understand, Mistress.”
Ellen nodded again and left.
It was past dinner time, and the cabin was dark and quiet. It was not yet night, but this far north in the shadow of the mountains, sunset came early. Sera moved around the house, lit a few lamps, and waited. She did not know what to expect. Ethan had gone after the assassin who had nearly killed Sir Gerhold. Would he return? Would he be killed too? Would the killer come back to the cabin to more adequately cover his tracks? Sera knew that she was skilled with a blade, but her few sparring sessions with Ethan let her know she could not take on a trained killer one-on-one. If she met a crawner in the hills, she could easily hold her own against the small creature, but she didn’t have any illusions that her skills went beyond that.
With fear creeping into her mind, she did what she always did. Pulling up a chair in the kitchen next to the unconscious knight, she bowed her head and prayed. She prayed for the safety of Ethan, that no harm would befall him and that he would be successful in the quest that his master had sent him on. She prayed for herself that she would be granted wisdom and stamina in dealing with Sir Gerhold and the wound that nearly took his life.
But she prayed most fervently for the health of the knight beside her. With her eyes still closed, she reached up to his hand and took it securely in hers. She prayed upon the Savior himself, professing her faith that he would come one day in human form and take the pure Elements of man upon himself, becoming one with his human followers only perfect in every way, in heart, mind, body, and spirit. He would bring purpose, wisdom, health, and, most of all, eternal life. Through him, every man, woman, and child who believed in him would be blessed and made pure. She asked for a portion of that blessing now and that he would look down on his humble servant, a noble knight who had performed admirably in his service, and grant him the healing he needed to survive.
As she prayed, Sera felt warmth from above flow through her and into Sir Gerhold. She cherished this feeling and prayed even more fervently, pouring her heart and soul into her petition. Without warning, the older man’s hand suddenly responded to her pressure and squeezed back. Sera was startled out of her meditation and looked up. Gerhold stirred on the table.
The young woman rose and stood back, startled. Mistress Targhetta had said she didn’t think he would wake up until morning, and now it had only been . . . Sera glanced at a clock and was surprised to see how much time had passed. She hadn’t realized how deep in prayer she had been. Still, it had been less than an hour, but color rapidly returned to the knight’s face, and his breathing deepened.
Sera moved to the kitchen corner where she had stored the vial her teacher had given her. Already Sir Gerhold was moving and rolling side to side. Sera was beside him instantly, ensuring he did not roll off the table. His eyes opened, and he looked around, trying to get his bearings before his memory returned. When the situation came back to his mind, he sat bolt upright, or, at least, tried to. He only made it to his elbows before the pain in his side stopped him. He looked down at the well-dressed wound and then up and around the room until his eyes found Sera. Then the rest of his memories came back.
“Ethan! The Sword! Have they returned?”
Sera put a hand on his bare chest and tried to get him to lie back down. “Please, Sir. Lie back down. You shouldn’t be moving like this.” He shouldn’t be moving at all, Sera thought, but she could worry about that later.
Like when they had first found him, his strength came in waves, and the process of trying to sit up and talk had stolen much of his available energy. He allowed the physic-in-training to guide him gently back to the table, but his eyes did not close, and Sera saw that he would remain awake for a while. She had set the vial on the table next to him and opened the cork while gently tilting his head to administer the elixir. “Please drink this.”
She was already pouring it down his throat, and the knight didn’t have a choice to do anything but swallow. Now he did close his eyes, but only to fully appreciate the warming sensation that went through him. He could feel his strength returning but more persistent this time, not in peaks and valleys. He took several deep breaths over the next dozen heartbeats before opening his eyes and attempting the waking up routine again, more stably this time.
Gerhold looked around the room slowly, adjusting to the dim light from the one lamp in the corner before resting on Sera. He smiled. “I suppose I have you to thank for saving my life.” The memory of his attacker returned to him, and he winced as he reached for his bandaged side. “Or,” he paused, “perhaps I was not as injured as I had assumed.” He thought he felt good enough to get off the table and walk around, be he decided not to. His memory was that the assassin had nearly gutted him, sinking his short sword halfway up to its hilt in his side. He should have bled out in minutes from that wound.
“My mistress was here,” Sera deflected. “She treated and dressed the wound. I only watched.”
Gerhold eyed her suspiciously. “Ellen came with you to practice?”
“No,” Sera said. “But after I . . . Uh, I mean, I went and got her after I, uh, we found you.”
Gerhold didn’t press the point. He knew it was at least three miles round trip to the master physic’s house. While the athletic young woman before him could have run that distance in under half an hour, her teacher was not that many years younger than himself and would not have gotten here quickly. The paladin’s memory was that he had minutes to live after his fight. He could think on that later.
“And Ethan?” he asked instead. “Has he returned?”
Sera shook her head. It had been almost two hours. The worry was evident on her face. “What did you send him after? Did this thief steal a sword from you?”
Sir Gerhold sighed as the reality of his failure was presented to him. “Yes, but not just any sword.” He hesitated, wondering how much he should tell this young woman.
The paladin had failed in his mission. Something had to be done, and he knew that as good as he might feel given the circumstances, he was still in no condition to ride and wouldn’t be for several days. Regardless of Ethan’s success, they wouldn’t be able to wait for Gerhold to get better. Either Ethan would return with the sword, and the paladin would have to send it away into hiding somewhere else, or he would return without it, and they would have to send word to the head of his order that the enemy had possession of an Elemental.
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He locked eyes with Sera, who waited patiently for him to continue, sensing that he was trying to figure out how to tell her what had happened. There was something special about this young woman. He could feel the Savior’s power in her. He had a memory – a dream perhaps – of warmth and healing, and it became more real as he looked into her eyes. She had saved his life, and it hadn’t been an accident. Coincidences did not happen to someone like himself, sworn to service in the Savior’s name, especially not concerning the Elementals.
Gerhold tried to sit up again.
“Please, Sir, you must relax.” Sera had her hand on his chest again, trying to push him down but didn’t have the strength to resist him. Her healing plus the elixir allowed him to easily push against her until he sat upright on the table, his legs hanging over the side at his knees. He tried to scoot forward to hop down, but “hopping” was not in the cards for him in his current status. “A little help,” he asked.
Sera was at his side and was too in awe of his strength to further protest. She held his hand and guided him forward until his feet touched the ground. As gently as possible, they eased his weight onto his legs, one at a time, until he was standing beside the table, one hand securely on the tabletop, the other on Sera’s shoulder. With the young woman’s help and just about every wall and shelf between the kitchen and sitting room, Gerhold made his way to the couch, where he eased onto the furniture. As he finally sunk into the straw-filled cushions, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be moving from there for a long time.
“Thank you,” he finally said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “I need to tell you something, and it is the most important thing anyone has ever told you in your life.”
That got Sera’s attention, and she found a seat on a chair across from the paladin.
“I was charged by my order to guard that sword,” he glanced toward the empty chest, his eyes lingering on the large red stain in the middle of the room as he spoke the following few words, “with my life. I pledged to kill anyone who came near it or even found out about it. So, know I am breaking my vow as I tell you this.”
Sera swallowed hard and nodded.
“Of course, failing to stop the assassin means I have already failed in my mission, and perhaps I no longer have a vow to keep. I will let the Savior himself judge me; though, the leaders of my order will probably come to do that soon.”
Sera frowned. “You told us that you were retired from service. Is that not the case? What order were you a part of? Or, what order are you still a part of?” Sera was familiar with several paladin groups through her studies in the temple, but Sir Gerhold had no seals or crests of any kind on his apparel or around his home.
“I am a member of the Elemental Order.” He assumed this would have a dramatic effect on his audience. He was right.
Sera’s hand went to her mouth. “Legend would have me believe . . .” but her voice trailed off.
“That we don’t exist,” the paladin finished for her. “That our quest to unlock the secrets of the Elementals was a fool’s errand. That no one can discover the true essence of humanity and that only at the Savior’s coming will those powers be made evident.”
Sera nodded as he accurately verbalized her thoughts, paraphrasing scripture quite familiar to her.
“Good,” the knight responded. “Then we have done our job well. It is far easier to keep something secret if no one believes it exists. But it is true that we still exist, and we did find the secret to the Elementals over 150 years ago.”
Sera shook her head. “But the Savior has not come. Those powers should not yet be revealed.”
“There, our theology differs, my young friend.” Gerhold sighed as he thought of how he could quickly convey their differences in belief, knowing what kind of education Sera had probably already completed. “There are two main issues my order takes with the Holy Verses.” He paused again. “You know them, right?”
“By heart,” Sera replied.
“Everyone agrees that the Elementals are listed in verse two: Mind, Body, Life, and Heart. And then that order is reversed in verse four as man loses them.”
Sera nodded. Nothing he was saying was new to her yet and was fundamental to Savior theology.
“Between those verses, the last line of verse three says, ‘Always destined to throw IT away.’ What is IT?”
Sera shrugged. “Perfection. Humans were perfect before the fall, and through greed and corruption, they threw it away.”
Gerhold shook his head. “That is not what we found. We searched the ancient texts and could find no reference to man throwing away perfection. The Holy Verses are only a summary in the common language of ancient writings, and the translation isn’t always perfect. We found one passage that spoke of humans throwing something away, and it directly referenced the elements.” He paused again as he searched his memory. “How did it go . . . ‘The elements that separated man from beast were not to be taken likely, but man foolishly threw them away through their prideful sense of independence. After the fall, those powers were lost but not forgotten by him who gave them.’” Gerhold shrugged. “Or something like that.”
“And you think that the last line should read ‘Always destined to throw THEM away?’”
“Makes it less ambiguous.”
“IF you are right,” Sera stressed, though she felt it foolish to debate the meaning of ancient texts she hadn’t seen, so she took a different tactic. “You formed a new order of knights over one word?”
The knight chuckled and then winced as he grabbed his side. “No, of course not. The last line of verse six: ‘Restores in kind, elements of man.’ It should read ‘Returns in kind.’ There is no talk of restoration in the ancient texts. Returning the elementals will restore humans, but that is an interpretation, not a direct translation.”
“I apologize for my skepticism,” Sera replied. “You started a new order over two words.”
Gerhold had witnessed his two students argue with this type of irreverent sarcasm many times and didn’t want to take the time to deal with it now. More important things were happening. “Many other passages speak of the Elementals as real entities, not just idealized symbols of human perfection. I don’t have time to go into it all right now. And it doesn’t matter anyway because we proved we were right when we found the Elementals.”
“How do you find ‘heart?’” Sera asked. “Outside of a human, what does ‘mind’ look like?”
He tried to ignore her skepticism. “The descriptions of the Elementals in their raw form were not well preserved. Likely the knights who found them 150 years ago didn’t have the words. But they were real enough. It only confirmed what we believed that we were destined to discover the power, and only after we had been proven faithful in its keeping would the Savior appear and make everything whole. Well, we had been faithful until tonight.”
“The sword?” Sera played along for now.
Sir Gerhold nodded. “Once the powers were discovered, we needed to lock them away so no one would use them. Instead of enchanting a gem or holy relic, which would be too conspicuous to keep hidden, we stored the powers in four different weapons. If any thief or curious heretic came looking, they wouldn’t think twice of a paladin who kept a sword or axe locked in a chest. Such ceremonial weapons are commonplace.”
Sera shook her head, still not letting this revelation go unchallenged. “But how did you lock the powers away into physical objects? The Elementals are the essence of humanity – of life itself – they should not be able to operate through inanimate objects.”
Sir Gerhold nodded appreciatively at the poignant and well-thought-out question. “And they don’t. Within their physical vessels, the powers are dormant. It took the lives of four brave volunteers to lock those powers away. And within the weapons, they will stay until another life is given to free them.”
The paladin cleared his throat and looked nervously out the window into the now pitch-black night, wondering if Ethan would ever return. “I don’t know how I was discovered. I can only assume that the location of all four Elementals was given to our enemies. Few within the order know, so I can only assume a traitor exists among us. It would be foolish if they only struck out at me, for word of this attack will get back to my order, and the other knights charged with guarding the Elementals will go into hiding.” He looked around his squalid cabin, secluded in the north part of the country and away from regular trading routes. “Or better hiding. I thought I was pretty much out of mind up here.”
“So, you think attacks are being taken out this night against your three brothers guarding the other Elementals?”
“Perhaps not all on the same night. We are all several days’ travel from each other, but definitely around the same time, so we cannot warn each other.”
“But who would do this?” Sera asked. “Who could do this?”
“Think, child. Who desires this power for themselves?”
The answer was obvious once she was forced to answer. “The Supplanter, whoever that might be at the moment.”
Gerhold nodded. The humanistic religion rejected the notion that the Savior would return and bring humans to completion. Instead of a divine being descending and taking on human form, they believed a man would rise up and become a god, and then he would restore humanity to its rightful place. The problem was, which man? A divine being descending to earth is hard to ignore or fake, but any man can claim to be the rightful Supplanter, and many have throughout history. Each had failed to make good on their claim. But just like generations of waiting for the Divine Savior had not weakened the faith of true believers, the supplicants, as the followers of the Supplanter were called, did not waver in their dedication to each new Supplanter who rose.
“Though,” Sera said aloud as they had both reviewed the sorted history of the heretical religion in their head, “if the current Supplanter has discovered the location of the Elementals, I suppose that would drive more people to him. Accelerating the slow cultivation processes they normally employ would be a great temptation. What happens – paradise forbid – if he gets hold of the Elementals?”
The paladin frowned. “I doubt he will waste much time transferring those powers into himself and transforming him into the ‘god’ his followers expect him to be.”
“Is that possible?”
Gerhold’s frown deepened. “Yes, I fear so. Our secret writings show that those of our order who found the source of these powers recognized that they not only could be transferred into a human, but that is where they most naturally want to reside. Of course, they are destined for the one and only true Savior, but that will not give the Supplanter any pause at all. With only one or two of the Elementals, any man would be powerful but unstable.”
Sera nodded, knowing well the passages of scripture she had read that talked of the balancing nature of the Elementals and how faithful followers of the Savior should learn to reflect this balance in their everyday lives.
“But with all four in one individual . . .” Sir Gerhold shuddered.
“But that can’t happen,” Sera said. “The Savior would not allow that to happen.”
The paladin grew even more severe. “I have been charged by my order to make sure that does not happen, and we believe that the Savior has given us this responsibility. That is why it is so important that Ethan returns with the sword. Even if the enemy successfully gets three weapons, they will not carry out the transfer until they have all four. At least, I hope they won’t.”
Sera nodded and then cocked her head. “And which of the Elementals have you been given to keep?”
Before the paladin could answer, they heard a crash from the back of the cabin as the door burst open. Sera leaped to her feet, and Sir Gerhold winced as he tried to do likewise but stayed on the couch. The young woman found her sword on the floor where she had discarded it earlier that evening when it became apparent practice was canceled. She moved to stand guard before the knight, preparing for the worse but dropped her guard when Ethan stumbled into the room, leaning heavily on the wall.
“I have returned,” he gasped and then crumpled to the floor.