A Ranger From Adamnar
Chapter 12

Alana quietly slipped out of the barracks, having given up trying to sleep after staring at the bottom of Nata’s bunk for two hours. She kept going over her fight with Waylan again and again. She couldn’t remember the point when she had switched her daggers and that frightened her. The Novadi dagger was a powerful magical weapon not meant to be used in training. If the Priests hadn’t been there, Waylan would have died. She might not like Waylan, but she certainly didn’t want to kill him.

She needed to talk to someone. She felt too ashamed to talk to Uncle Iliard and none of her fellow trainees would understand. She headed across the stronghold compound towards the small temple of Asaeria.

The door to the temple was open and the light from the sanctuary was shining out into the dark night. Alana walked into the sanctuary, and to her surprise, Asaeria was standing there as if she were waiting for her. Alana stopped in her tracks just inside the door and, without thinking, dropped to her knees. She bowed her head and said, “Please forgive me. I committed an evil act today.”

“Come forward child,” Asaeria said. Alana stood and walked slowly towards her goddess. When Alana was a few feet away from Asaeria, she fell to her knees again. “Rise Alana Candril,” Asaeria said gently, “Tell me what you have done.”

Alana felt herself trembling as she stood and answered, “I used the Novadi dagger on Trainer Waylan in practice today. I almost killed him.”

“Was it your intention to kill him?” the goddess asked.

Alana shook her head vehemently, “No. I wouldn’t want that. I was angry at him, but I didn’t want him dead.” She stopped and swallowed hard. Her voice quivered when she spoke again. “I’m afraid.”

“What do you fear?”

“I don’t remember switching my daggers. I’m afraid there’s evil in me. That voice, that presence I felt in the forest, it was evil.” She closed her eyes as tears slowly rolled down her pale cheeks. “Maybe that evil is inside me.”

Asaeria stepped forward and placed her hand on Alana’s chest, right over the place where the holy symbol rested. “You wear my emblem. If there were evil within you, it would burn you—like this.” Alana cried out in pain as the amulet suddenly started to burn her skin. Just as quickly, the heat and the pain were gone. “There is no evil within you, Alana Candril,” she said kindly as she stepped back. “You have grown extraordinarily powerful in a very short time. Yet you are still very young. Your mind has not yet been able to grasp the magnitude of the power you possess and so you make foolish, youthful mistakes. However, your power is so great that your childish mistakes can have terrible consequences.”

Alana rubbed the place on her chest where her holy symbol lay. “What I am I going to do?” she asked.

“You must replace someone who will help guide you through this time of transition.”

“But,” she protested, “Uncle Iliard is my mentor.”

“Iliard Candril has another task now that requires his attention. His occasional visits to you are not enough. You must replace someone here in this place.”

“But who?” Alana asked plaintively, “I don’t really know anyone except the other trainees.”

“It is for you to discover, Alana. You are no longer a child to be led by the hand. You must use your own instincts and judgment to determine who your guide should be.”

Alana bowed her head in acquiescence. “I will do as you say.” She then got down on one knee and said, “I ask for your blessing.”

Asaeria smiled. “It is yours my child.” She placed her hand on Alana’s bowed head. “Walk in wisdom, young one.” She took a step back and said, “Now rise, Alana Candril. You have begun a new chapter of your life. Mark this beginning with humility and grace.”

“I will,” Alana answered. She stood, bowed her head once more, then turned and walked out of the sanctuary.

Chief Priest Bruny watched Alana leave from his place in a small prayer niche. He had heard Alana come into the sanctuary. At first he thought her confession of guilt was made to him until he stepped out of the alcove. Then he saw the face of his goddess for the first time in his priesthood. In his wonder, he fell to his knees and stayed there.

“Rise and come forward my son.”

Bruny’s eyes went wide. He stood up and found that his hands were shaking. He walked toward Asaeria but, about ten feet away from her, he knelt and then bowed down until his head touched the floor.

“Stand up and face me Terinador Bruny. I am not like my brother who requires his priests to humiliate themselves before him. We are fellow warriors, not slave and master.”

Bruny got up. His hands were still shaking. He swallowed once and then asked, “How may I serve you, my goddess?”

“You may serve me first by coming closer,” she answered. When Bruny had done as she bid, Asaeria went on, “It is not yet time for Alana Candril’s secrets to be widely known. She has great power but she is not yet ready to wield it fully . She is still learning and so she is very vulnerable. Even in this place there is danger for her. Your charge is to do whatever you must to protect her until it is time for her to leave this place.” She looked Bruny in the eye and asked, “Do you accept this charge?”

“With all my heart, blessed one,” he answered. A seraph appeared at Asaeria’s side. The palm of his outstretched hand glowed with the symbol of Asaeria. The seraph walked up to Bruny and placed his glowing palm on the priest’s chest. Bruny looked down and saw the symbol of his goddess glowing bright white upon his chest and he was filled with awe. Who was this girl that she could speak to his goddess and yet not have a priestly vocation? He had sensed the power within her today at the practice arena. How had she gained such power with so little training?

“Your questions will be answered in time, my child. Just know that she is an essential part of a larger plan. She must be protected.”

“I will protect her with my life if need be,” Bruny replied.

Asaeria nodded in satisfaction. “Well said, Priest Bruny. Your service will be rewarded.” Then she faded away. The seraph remained.

“I assume you have a very good reason for being out the barracks so long after curfew, trainee.”

Alana started at the sound of Lord Chasimar’s voice behind her. She whirled around wide-eyed and stammered, “Lord Chasimar. I…I was in the temple.”

“The temple is open all day long, Alana,” Lord Chasimar said sternly. “There is no need to break curfew to go there.”

“But, I…” Alana began. Then she saw the unyielding look on Lord Chasimar’s face and bowed her head. “Yes, Lord Chasimar.”

“You will join me for my morning run” Lord Chasimar said. “Be outside your barracks at dawn.”

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” she answered quietly.

“Now, go back to your barracks.”

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” she answered. Alana sighed inwardly. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

Dawn seemed to come much too quickly for Alana. She had great difficulty getting herself out of bed to get ready for her run with Lord Chasimar. She was spurred on by the knowledge that, if she was late for this run, Lord Chasimar would no doubt add at least one more run to her punishment. She tried not to think of the unfairness of Lord Chasimar’s decision. She hadn’t even let Alana explain why she had been in the temple so late. But then again, Alana didn’t think Lord Chasimar would understand her problem anyway.

When she got to the door of the barracks Neve said quietly, “Lord Chasimar is waiting for you.”

Alana saw the slight furrow in Neve’s brow and it hit her—Neve probably got in trouble for letting Alana get out of the barracks after curfew. Alana let out a soft sigh and said, “I’m sorry I got you in trouble Neve. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

Neve nodded silently and then said with a slight smile, “Good luck.”

That just made Alana feel worse. It hadn’t occurred to her that Neve would get in trouble too. But of course, she was in charge of the barracks and it was her responsibility to make sure all the trainees were where they were supposed to be after lights out. Alana sighed again. It was going to be a very bad day.

The morning sun was just beginning to peer over the horizon when Alana stepped out of the barracks. Lord Chasimar was standing there with her hands on her hips, waiting for Alana. “Did you stretch?” she asked perfunctorily.

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” Alana answered.

“Where are your weapons, trainee?” she asked.

Alana stared at her for a moment, not completely comprehending what she was asking. “My weapons?” she put her hand on the Novadi dagger, which she always carried.

“All of your weapons, trainee,” Lord Chasimar said curtly. “You are at third phase now. You should always be ready for combat. Now go back inside and equip yourself properly.”

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” Alana murmured. Then she turned and went back into the barracks. Neve looked at her in surprise when she walked back in the barracks. Alana growled, “Weapons,” then walked down to her bunk. She pulled out her long sword and all of her daggers. Fortunately, Uncle Iliard had given her a shoulder strap. She had no practice running with a sword bumping against her leg and she didn’t want to start that today. She fastened the sheath of the long sword to the shoulder strap, put a dagger on her belt and tucked another in the dagger sheath on the shoulder strap. She strapped the smallest dagger onto her forearm and the last dagger onto her calf. Lastly she fastened the shoulder strap in place. “This is going to be fun,” she murmured flatly as she hurried back outside.

Lord Chasimar looked her up and down and said, “That will do for now. Let’s go.” Then she started to run towards the front gate. Although Alana had only run with Lord Chasimar once before, she had an idea of what to expect from her. As she anticipated, Lord Chasimar took off quickly and didn’t slow down. Alana once again had reason to be grateful for Pellou’s endless days and nights of running.

Alana was used to carrying a heavy pack, so the weight of the sword was not an issue, but the feeling of the daggers strapped to her arm and calf irritated her. She knew these things shouldn’t bother her—she was going to have to do it sooner or later. The fact of the matter was she just didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to be running with Lord Chasimar. She didn’t want to be awake this early. She didn’t even want to go to practice today. The thought of facing Waylan again made her feel physically ill. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. And Lord Chasimar just kept running and running. Alana wondered if they were going to run all the way to Erordinville.

“Alana, can you tell me why the stronghold has imposed a curfew on the trainees?”

Alana was so deep in her own morose thoughts that Lord Chasimar’s voice startled her and she stumbled and turned her ankle. She grunted in pain, but didn’t stop running. Through clenched teeth she answered, “To protect the trainees if the stronghold gets attacked at night. It’s easier to protect them if they are all in one place.”

“What then,” Lord Chasimar asked, “was so important that you had to put yourself in danger to go to the see Brother Bruny in the middle of the night?”

Alana didn’t answer right away. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Should she tell Lord Chasimar that she had almost killed Waylan? How could she? Would Lord Chasimar want her thrown out of the stronghold? Worse yet, would she tell Uncle Iliard? All these thoughts flooded Alana’s mind as she ran in silence. She tried to formulate an answer, but the pain in her ankle was growing worse with every step and her thoughts refused to order themselves.

Lord Chasimar, thinking that Alana was stubbornly refusing to answer her question, stopped and turned around to reprimand the wayward trainee. When she saw Alana half-running, half-limping toward her, her face pale and her mouth set in grimace of pain, Lord Chasimar called out, “Alana, stop.”

Alana halted right where she was. She tried for a moment to stand by leaning against a tree, but her injured ankle wouldn’t support her weight even then, so she slowly sank to the ground.

Lord Chasimar hurried over and knelt down beside her. “Where are you hurt?” she asked. Alana pointed to her left ankle. Lord Chasimar pulled up the leg of Alana’s breeches. “It’s swollen,” she murmured and proceeded to untie Alana’s boot. Alana stiffened against the pain as Lord Chasimar took off her boot and sock. “Try to be still,” she admonished the trainee. Alana nodded and tried her best to be still as Lord Chasimar probed the injury. Finally the Ranger lord looked up and said, “It’s not broken. I will be able to heal this.” She closed her eyes, placed her hand on Alana’s ankle, and began murmuring the prayer of healing. Soon Alana felt the healing warmth flow through her and the pain subsided.

When Lord Chasimar took her hand off her ankle, Alana moved it around experimentally to see how if felt. “Thank you, Lord Chasimar,” she said quietly as she put on her sock and boot.

Lord Chasimar sat back on her heels and watched Alana as she tied her boot laces. The evidence of physical pain was gone from her face to be sure, but Lord Chasimar could see that Alana was struggling with a different sort of pain. Finally she said, “Alana, what’s wrong? You’re not acting like yourself.”

Alana’s hands clenched into fists momentarily before she returned to tying her laces. She furrowed her brow and her lips compressed to thin line. When she finally finished with her boot, she looked up at Lord Chasimar with tear-filled eyes and answered, “I wish I knew who that was.”

“What do you mean?” Lord Chasimar asked.

“I mean,” she began, “yesterday I almost killed Trainer Waylan because I used the Novadi dagger against him during practice. But I don’t remember even drawing it. Last night when I was in the temple, I was talking to the goddess Asaeria, not Priest Bruny. I can see and speak to all the gods—and I mean all the gods. Arnitath has already tried to claim me as his servant. I can heal and I’m not even a Ranger yet. I held a full grown man on a cliff face with my thoughts alone, but I wasn’t strong enough to keep him from falling and when I fight, I move faster than anyone else and I…see things differently, but I can’t control it. Uncle Iliard wants to name me his heir, but he can’t see my future, so he can only give me his dagger and hope.” Alana let out a ragged sob and put her face in her hands, “I am everything and nothing.”

Lord Chasimar moved so she could put her arm around Alana’s shoulders. She reflected back on the conversation she had with Master Iliard twelve months before. He told her that Alana might begin to show abilities beyond those of a Ranger trainee and perhaps even of a Ranger Lord. He had spoken of a prophecy and had asked her not to speak of it to Alana. At the time she disagreed with him, thinking that it would better if Alana knew her whole history. Now, she wasn’t so sure. As she listened to the young woman’s anguished sobs, she came to understand why Master Iliard wanted to keep the knowledge of the prophecy from her. It was enough that Alana had all of this power at such a young age without throwing in portents of doom on top of it.

Great power and raw emotion were a dangerous combination that, if left unchecked, could have disastrous consequences. Lord Chasimar searched her mind for a way she could help Alana learn to control both of the forces that were now controlling her. She, herself, did not possess any extraordinary powers beyond those of a Ranger Lord. What did she know of such things? As she thought, she realized that, although she knew little of extraordinary powers, she did know quite a bit about discipline and self-control. Those were things that any warrior needed, no matter how powerful. She knew Alana already had a lot of discipline and Master Iliard taught her a little about self-control. Perhaps what Alana needed was some consistency. Lord Chasimar thought she could provide that.

“Alana,” she said quietly. When Alana raised her tear-streaked face, Lord Chasimar handed her a soft cloth that she pulled from a pocket in her tunic. Alana took it and wiped her face and eyes. “I think I can help you,” Lord Chasimar said.

“What do you mean?” Alana asked. “How?”

“Well,” she began, “I won’t pretend to know what it’s like to have the kind of power you have. But I do know that every warrior needs to learn discipline and self-control. You have already shown that you can be very disciplined and you have learned some self-control from Master Iliard. What I can offer you is consistency. If you like, we could meet during the week, perhaps two or three times, just to talk. I can teach you some meditation techniques that I learned from a friend of mine who is a Mendari. That might be very helpful to you.” Mendari used the power of their mind to control the world around them and meditation was one of the ways they used to help focus their energy.

“Do you really think it will help?” Alana asked.

“Yes, I do,” Lord Chasimar answered. “I believe if you learn how to achieve inner harmony, you will be able to control your emotions and your power.”

Alana looked at Lord Chasimar for a long moment. She had hardly expected to hear her speak in such a way. She recalled her conversation with Asaeria. She had told Alana to replace a mentor. Maybe Lord Chasimar was the right person. “Will you help me?” she asked.

“Yes,” Lord Chasimar answered, “I will help you as much as I can.”

“Thank you, Lord Chasimar,” Alana answered.

Lord Chasimar stood up and offered Alana her hand, “It’s time you got back to the stronghold. Waylan always starts on time.”

Alana’s eyes went wide. “Oh no, I forgot. He wants us to bring all of our weapons to practice today.”

“Well, I’m sure I can get you to the barracks and then to practice,” Lord Chasimar responded. “You might be a little late.” Seeing the look of consternation on Alana’s face, she added, “Don’t worry about Waylan. I’ll talk to him.”

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” Alana answered somewhat doubtfully.

Lord Chasimar put her hand on Alana’s shoulder and said, “I imagine you’ve teleported before.”

Alana looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t know Rangers could teleport.”

Lord Chasimar lifted her right hand to show Alana a rune-etched gold ring on her index finger. “All the lords in the stronghold have one, as do the trainers and the outer-ring patrol leaders. Long ago, before Terin Novar Arianna was the leader of the Novadi, she was the Ruby Ranger. She was the one who set up the stronghold system the way it is now. And she was the one who required all the lords to get items that allowed them to teleport.”

“I had no idea,” Alana said.

“Now you do,” she said. “Let’s get you back to the stronghold.”

Even though she flew into and out of the barracks and ran all the way to the arena, Alana still heard Waylan say, “Nadran, you’re late”, as she ran into the arena.

“I’m sorry, Trainer Waylan,” Alana answered as she tried to catch her breath.

Just as Waylan was about to berate Alana, Lord Chasimar walked into the arena. She pulled Waylan aside and spoke quietly to him. Waylan glanced over at Alana then nodded his head. Lord Chasimar nodded in return and then left the sparring ring.

Alana heard someone mutter, “Look who gets the special treatment again.” She felt the blood rise to her face, but she didn’t look around to see who said it. She wasn’t going to get into an argument, especially not today.

Waylan walked back to the group of trainees and said, “You all liked fighting with as many weapons as you could carry. Now let’s see how well you run with them.” A few groans drifted out of the group. Waylan looked to the source of the groans and said, “Did you expect to do patrols without weapons? Or did you think your weapons would magically appear when you needed them?”

“No Trainer Waylan,” the group responded as a whole.

“All right then,” he said. “Let’s go.” With that he ran out of the arena towards the front gate. Alana groaned—to herself. She wondered if he was going to take the same route as Lord Chasimar. She was glad she had left the long sword strapped to her back and had buckled her short sword to her belt. She shook her head. Today was going to be a very long day indeed.

That evening, after dinner, Lord Chasimar brought Alana out to the a small lake that was near the stronghold. The twilight sky bathed the lake in a rosy glow. Lord Chasimar sat down on the soft grass near the edge of the lake and invited Alana to do the same. “The secret to meditation,” she began, “is learning how to focus your thoughts. If you can learn how to focus your thoughts in meditation, you will be able to have more control over your power and your emotions. I want you to close your eyes.” After Alana complied, Lord Chasimar went on, “Now, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Keep doing that for a little while.” A few moments later she said, “Now, count each breath out. Focus on your breathing and your counting and nothing else.”

At first, Alana didn’t see the purpose in the breathing exercise. She already knew how to breathe. And it certainly wasn’t helping her focus. Her thoughts were running every which way, jumping from one thing to another. That all stopped when Lord Chasimar told her to count her breaths. Now all she could do was focus on counting the breaths. Gradually her mind ceased its frantic gyrations as she forced it to keep counting. The sounds of the lake receded and all she heard was the sound of her own breathing. Very soon, even that faded away and she was in silence.

Very faintly, as if coming from a great distance, she heard Lord Chasimar say, “Turn your thoughts towards that which you wish to control.” In her mind Alana saw herself draw her sword. She stood at the ready against a faceless opponent. Her enemy swung his sword at her and she only barely countered it. Once again he struck, and this she parried a little more quickly. Over and over again he attacked her and each time she got faster in her response. Alana began to feel the energy flow through her—the same energy she felt when she fought. She used her thoughts to channel the energy into her sword arm. Now she was attacking and her enemy was defending. She was winning. She was beating him down. Finally in her triumph, she struck the killing blow. As she stood over the body of her conquered foe, the fog that obscured his face slowly cleared. Alana let out a gasp of horror. It was Waylan who lay dead at her feet.

After that first day, Waylan made no more appearances during Alana’s meditations. But at night, he haunted her dreams. Almost every night, she relived her fight with him. Most of the time the dream ended the same way the fight had—with Waylan wounded but alive. But sometimes, usually after a particularly hard day of training, Waylan would lie dead in an ever widening pool of his own blood, while the priests tried in vain to resurrect him. After those dreams, Alana would wake up in a cold sweat and lie awake until morning. She didn’t understand why the meditation wasn’t helping her with the dreams, but she was ashamed to ask Lord Chasimar about it.

Third phase practice got more intense as the days went by. They began to run with their weapons in the forest every day. They learned how to follow a hot and cold trail. They learned how to spot the signs of an ambush. The senior trainees, who had already gone through this training, would set up an ambush, sometimes as long as a day in advance and the junior trainees had to try to detect it. Alana discovered that she was very good at tracking and at spotting an ambush.

To Alana’s delight, they also began to learn to fight from horseback, something at which Alana quickly excelled. She barely even needed a saddle to stay on her horse as it was, so she could fight two-handed right away. Waylan started to give her two and then three trainees to fight just to give her a challenge. Lately, fighting from horseback was the only time Alana really enjoyed practice.

Back in the sparring ring, the junior trainees learned how to fight with a long sword and a short sword. They also learn how to fight to subdue, rather than kill an enemy. It took a lot of practice to learn just when to turn the blade so as not to slice into your opponent. Alana wondered why Waylan hadn’t taught them this skill before they fought each other with real weapons. It certainly would have made her life easier.

Her dreams about Waylan kept coming and the guilt of her mistake haunted her. She felt weighed down by it. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. The worse she felt, the less she wanted to talk about it to anyone. She couldn’t imagine ever telling Uncle Iliard about it. She didn’t think she could bear the disappointment she would see in his eyes. No matter how she excelled in her training, she still felt like a failure.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, two weeks before testing, Shiri came running into the dining hall to their table, her eyes alight with excitement. “Did you hear? It’s all over the stronghold.”

“Hear what?” Tulan asked.

“Waylan is having Alana test for forth phase,” she said triumphantly.

Alana felt herself go cold. She put down her fork and said quietly, “What?”

“Wait a moment,” Tulan said, “Nobody’s supposed to know who’s testing. How do you know it’s true? Someone could be just pulling a prank.”

Shiri shook her head. “I overheard Lord Berol talking to Waylan about it. Waylan was fit to be tied. He wanted to postpone the test because of it, but Lord Berol said he would just have to deal with it. Waylan wasn’t happy about that.”

Grace came in and sat at their table. “Congratulations Alana,” she said. “I just heard Waylan is testing you out.”

“How did you hear about it?” Shiri asked.

Grace shrugged slightly, “I heard two Rangers talking about it. One of them was saying she didn’t deserve it because she’s too young and too much of a show-off. The other one didn’t agree with him and they started arguing about it.”

Alana looked back down at her plate. Things had just gotten much worse.