Listen, as I tell the ancient tale of the Benevolent Ones. Though these legends are many and long, perhaps the one most worthy of recognition is that of Saint Pelan of the White Branch. Though not the oldest, Pelan's story is perhaps the most remarkable, for it was born out of high status, yet ended with humility. It began far off in the northern kingdom of the Isles of Mist....
1st Tablet: Summer Sun
Pelan looked up at his father. The armor he wore bore the nicks and scars of many weapons, many battles. Though large and impressive, they made him feel rather afraid.
"Where are we going, father?"
"We go to make our tribute."
"Tribute? To whom?"
"My fellow kings. For without this mutual gift, there would be much strife."
"But I thought you were the high king!"
"I could have been called such once. Alas, now such a title from the days of lore bears little meaning. Any warlord with an army behind him thinks he can be a king. And, unfortunately, many have declared themselves such. I may still possess the title of high king, but if the warlord monarchs were to become unhappy with me, they would emerge victorious."
The horses reached an iron gate. A warrior encased in dark blue plating peered over the wall. Pelan tried to stare boldly back at the roaring serpent carved into the man's helmet.
"Who dares to pass the gate of Arrana, Lord of the North?
"It is I, King Merintas!"
"Our lord is displeased with your actions of late. However, in recognition of your tribute, he shall be gracious. Enter with caution and deference!"
The gate opened with a rumbling creak. In the center of what appeared to be the main square, Pelan could see several kings discussing politics with each other. Though it endlessly fascinated his elder cousin Haurek, the topic of power had always seemed insufferably dry to Pelan. He'd much rather be off in nearby woods or streams, exploring. He waited with impatience for his father to finish negotiations with Arrana and the other warlord kings. He began to nod off, but was at once awakened by a great shout.
"Never! That shall not suffice! Your brother's crimes against us cannot be paid with grain! We shall settle this in the old laws of the North! The laws our ancestors set in stone! Your payment, Merintas, shall be in blood!!" Arrana exclaimed with fury in his eyes.
"Now see here, Arrana! I am not without my grudges against Merintas either, but you know the Codes of the Shepherd Kings have struck out the older, barbaric laws. And good riddance to them, I say! Regardless, however, you cannot take the blood of another king." a young leader berated.
"Then what about his son?"
Pelan felt a chill. He backed away. Merintas drew his sword.
"None of that, Arrana. You may think me weak, but I am still the high king. Drop your weapons. No one touches Pelan."
Pelan was surprised. Here his father was, doing the thing he had said only moments ago he would never do. His father had challenged a warlord. Pelan was both terrified and rather proud at the same time. He waited to see what would happen.
Another warlord spoke up.
"The boy has only lived for twelve years! Have you no soul, Arrana? I do believe the Northern Serpent Tribe's blood runs too deep in your veins!"
"The Shepherd Kings have long ago been beaten into pauper's graves. Your line is dead. We will no longer be bound by cowardly law! We will have justice!" Arrana snarled back.
"Hear, hear! I agree with Arrana! Our kingdom has suffered for too long under the hands of Merintas and his relatives," said Gotun, the Lord of the Western Rivers.
Merintas turned to his son.
"Take the horse, Pelan. Go home. I will return."
Pelan stood still.
"Off with you, boy!"
Pelan nodded. He ran to the horses, barely outrunning the guards.
"General! Send a warrior after him," Arrana called. "Your prince has escaped us. You may not be so fortunate, Merintas, last of the Shepherd Kings!"
Merintas gripped his sword tighter.
Is this where it all ends? he thought.
****
Pelan looked over the walls of his father's fortress. His mother sat below in the garden.
"Do you think Arrana overpowered him?" Pelan asked.
"I'm afraid that seems the most likely. Your father is strong and brave, but Arrana has many more years of battle experience. His father was the last leader of the Northern Serpent Tribe."
"Tell me more about them," Pelan said with a shudder, remembering Arrana's threats.
"Well, you must understand, they were the last of the ancient barbarian tribes to survive. The Codes of the Shepherd Kings were laid out long before, yet still they persisted in their uncivilized ways. Under tremendous pressure from your great uncle, the previous high king, they finally broke apart and pledged a very reluctant allegiance to the crown. But in their day, they were ruthless killers. All the other tribes and kingdoms feared them. They looked after no man, except their own. So little was their love of our tradition, that they crushed and ransacked the Great Circle of Ya."
Pelan was shocked. He didn't really understand his father's connection to Ya, or the religious ceremonies his father and mother seemed so devoted to, yet he knew that to desecrate such a site was high on the list of atrocities that the Codes had forbidden.
Suddenly, there was a trumpet. To Pelan's shock and amazement, he saw his father riding into the castle.
"He's alive!"
Pelan’s mother ran to the gate. Pelan followed after her. Though happy, his joy was tempered when he saw his father. Merintas had entered a different man. His eyes were grim with determination and sadness, and he bore several scars.
"Merintas! Thank heaven you're alive!"
"Fortunately for our kingdom, I am, Elinu. Unfortunately, such security will not last much longer."
"But come, you must be exhausted. Servants! Prepare a meal for us!"
The servants rushed off to do their work. An hour later, the three sat down.
"What news from the warlords?" Queen Elinu asked.
"Arrana demanded blood. Pelan's, specifically. I have forced him to stand down. Nevertheless, he has cut off all trade and communications with us. He also stated that if Pelan were to enter his domain, death would befall him," Merintas finished.
"And what of the other Lords?"
"Several have joined forces with him. They've agreed to a reluctant peace treaty, but they will kill our men if their borders are crossed."
"Then we must keep Pelan in the castle. Or if not, he must go no farther than Brigalan Forest," Elinu cautioned.
"So be it," Merintas said, and continued eating.
****
Pelan looked out at the castle wall. It had been three months since his confinement to the grounds of Merintas' domain. He saw his father walking through the courtyard.
"Father!"
Merintas stopped.
"Have the warlords calmed down yet?"
"I'm afraid not, Pelan. And unfortunately, things are only getting worse. They have threatened my brother's kingdom. Even now, they march upon it. Tonight, I must ride to help your uncle. We will probably lose. Still, if the Shepherd Kings and their Codes have any chance of maintaining order in the land, it will only be if we can survive."
"Father, who are the Shepherd Kings? I of course understand that they are important, but Master Fjoran has not taught their history to me."
"Naturally not, Pelan. It is not the history of our kingdom. It is the history of a far greater saga. For many centuries, the Tribes of Lojarin ruled all. Only they were unified enough to keep power."
"The Tribes of Lojarin?"
"Your mother calls them the barbarian tribes. And it's true, in a way. Yet they were more than mere brutes. They were the servants of the god Lojarin. His teachings did make them a very powerful society. The prophets of Lojarin created a code of law that unified them and advanced them far beyond any of the other minor tribes. Alas, within this code was the demand for blood. In many ways. Blood to decide a ruler. Blood to bring Lojarin's blessing on an undertaking. Blood from each tribe as tribute."
Pelan shivered.
"Over the years, however, a group of herding clans arose and became a force to be reckoned with by the Tribes of Lojarin. Eventually, they defeated their enemies."
"How did they do it?"
"There's many stories. Some say they had a secret weapon, designed by rebels who left the Tribes. Others say they had spies in the temples, allowing them to destroy their enemy from the inside. A few even claim they had the blessing of Ya."
"What do you think?"
"I think they merely struck at the right time. Patience is often the key to sound victory, son. After their victory, they elected a king. He called himself the first Shepherd King. This was partly due to their origins, and also a reminder to lead by gentle kindness, and not harsh authority. The tribes met together and formed several documents of law which became the Codes of the Shepherd Kings."
"What about Lojarin? What did he think of all this?"
"Lojarin? Pelan, you must understand, Lojarin never existed and to say he did is blasphemy. Naturally, I will forgive you this time. Still, should you meet any others in our kingdom, that kind of talk will get you in trouble," Merintas scolded.
Pelan shrugged.
****
A month later, Pelan's father returned. On his horse was a limp body. Merintas dismounted, looking stern.
"My uncle?" Pelan asked.
"He's alive. In very bad shape, though. We must see to his wounds. Stay here. If anyone in this kingdom should be allowed to maintain a shred of hopeful innocence, it should be you, Pelan."
Pelan sat down on the rain soaked stone floor. As his father disappeared with his uncle, Pelan had an idea. He tiptoed across the castle floor, and slowly climbed the stairs up to the Healer's Tower. He then scaled the roof. Putting an ear to the wood, he listened.
"The Shepherd Kings are doomed, Merintas. Lojarin has triumphed," Pelan's uncle said.
"Calm down. None of that theology. We made some mistakes, without a doubt. But we have won! The warlords flee from us!"
"Until they gain greater weapons. Listen to me, Merintas. I haven't got much time left, so I must say what I need to say. I'm sorry for any grief I've caused you. I know our kingdoms competed in the early days, and I know that competition became far too fierce. Don't give up, Merintas. We can't let these kingdoms, the Shepherd Kingdoms, fall. If they fall, justice falls. If they fall, freedom falls. If they fall, hope falls. Remember what you have promised my family. "
"I will fight to my dying breath," Merintas reassured him. "And I will keep my vow."
There was silence. Then Merintas' brother coughed and hacked. Silence reigned once more.
He was not buried, as Pelan had been expecting. Instead, they sent him down the mighty river Nyrian in a floating casket.
Farewell, o noble brother, thought Merintas.
What fate awaits us now? thought Pelan.
2nd Tablet: Spring Zephyr
Years passed. Pelan continued to live in the castle. Though still wary of the outer world, he grew more playful and less thoughtful and cautious over the course of time. One day, about a month after Pelan's 16th birthday, a hooded rider came to the castle. At first, Pelan looked cautiously. Then he saw the rider's face.
"Haurek?"
"Greetings, cousin. I must speak with your father."
"Of course, but he can wait. Come with me! I haven't seen you in years!"
"I'm afraid there's no time. This is urgent."
"What is it that's so important?"
"I'm forbidden to tell anyone not involved with Merintas."
"Haurek, I'm his son! I'm the prince! If anything, I should be first to know."
"Let me tell you something. You may be the prince by birth, but I know what's happening to the Shepherd Kings. I've...seen it happen," Haurek said, pausing with a wince. "And from now on, you're not going to be in the game of power. You're too inexperienced. And too simple. What power we have left against the warlords will be given to the strong and wise. Farewell, little cousin."
Haurek rode off to the stables. Pelan scowled. Haurek had always tried to seem superior in any way he could. The fact that he was three years older than Pelan didn't help. He was interrupted by his thoughts by a call.
"Pelan! Come here!" Elinu said.
Pelan obeyed.
"I've been thinking about you, and about what goes on around here. You don't have enough work to do. I'm not suggesting you do all the manual work, but you haven't been put to studying yet. I intend for that to change. I have spoken with several renowned tutors, and they have agreed to teach you. You shall begin tomorrow," the queen finished.
"Is it really that important? Every thing I need to know to preserve our future, if we have one, I can learn from my father."
"Merintas is a good man, but he is a bad teacher. The methods of gaining and preserving power he has used would not be the best path for most. He survives only by his iron perseverance and the blessing of Ya."
****
Pelan began to learn the many disciplines of study. Over time, though he continued, his skill improved little. The only art he was skilled at was that of combat.
"Well done, Pelan! That was the third blow you landed in a row!" his teacher exclaimed.
Pelan smiled. Sanigra was perhaps the only teacher of his he actually enjoyed learning from.
They continued to fight, until Pelan saw Mentiras and Haurek go by. He watched them walk off into the distance, engaged in hushed conversation.
"It appears you are distracted. Go. You've done enough today," Sanigra said.
Pelan bowed to his master and followed his father and cousin. They sat down facing him. He ducked behind a bush.
"My liege, I am honored by this distinction you lay upon me."
"Thank me not. Truly, it was your father's dying wish, Haurek. And anyhow, you have the strength we need to bring the Shepherd Kings back into power. I only regret that my own son will not inherit my crown."
Pelan felt as if a knife had been plunged into him. He still knew little of his heritage, yet he yearned to fight for his family. To win the day. To bring justice back to the Misty Isles. And now those honors would no longer be his.
"With all due respect, your majesty, your son is a fool. Though admirable in his intent, he has little grasp on what is needed to keep this nation together."
"Be careful, Haurek. You tread upon shaky ground. I have not officially named you my heir yet. Another remark like that, and I may be forced to reconsider."
"Forgive me, my lord. I spoke thoughtlessly."
Merintas nodded. Pelan left. He had heard all he had needed to hear.
The next day, Pelan approached his father.
"Traitor."
"Pelan, what are you talking about?"
"I am your son. Your heir by right! What does Haurek have that I do not possess, that he should be the next king?"
"Pelan, I'm sorry, but it's politics. Certainly, if I had my way, the position would be yours. But if the Shepherd Kings are to avoid a schism, I must honor my allies. I must honor my brother's dying wish. And Haurek has a far greater gift for strategy and he knows how to be diplomatic. You have not yet mastered these skills."
"Father! What are you saying?! I'm only 16. There are still four years before I can take your throne by law, and I know you won't step down, so I shall wait patiently until your reign has come to completion. In that time, I can learn much. Haurek has no conscience. And he has an arrogant streak the size of a mountain!"
"Pelan! Silence! This is how it must be! You must learn your place."
Pelan was silent for awhile, thinking. Finally, he said,
"Is there any way by which I may win your favor from my cousin, father?"
Merintas answered,
"The Codes only allow you to challenge Haurek in a ceremonial battle. But I wouldn't risk it. These battles aren't to the death, but many participants come out broken. And the fighting methods are archaic. Sanigra cannot teach them to you."
"Just give me the rules. I will do my best to make you proud, father."
"Pelan. I am already proud of you. You are a good son and you may make a fine commander in my armies. Though your skill in strategy is still in development, you would always fight the right battles, and fight them well."
"So that's all you want me for? I am to be another sword in the wars? I only practice combat diligently because I enjoy the theory and technique of it. I have little desire for real battle."
"In truth, Pelan, you have but one problem. You have the gift of wisdom. I can see that it blossoms in you. Unfortunately, this age has no use for wisdom. All is decided by the law. The law is our wisdom."
"Then maybe the law is imperfect, if it has caused such strife. Strife that left my uncle dead."
"Enough, my son! We shall discuss this no further. If you really wish to challenge Haurek, I cannot stop you. However, I warn you that it will not end well for either of you. It's not what your uncle would have wanted, and it's not what I want. He and I have always thought very highly of both of you."
"The rules?"
"It depends on the challenge. There are tablets of rules I can give you when...if the fight is decided."
Pelan left silently.
****
The next day, Haurek confronted Pelan after the evening meal.
"I have heard you wish to challenge me."
"Indeed."
"What makes you think I would concern myself with such minor nobility as yourself?"
"Haurek. You're my cousin. I respect you, but the crown is rightfully mine."
"The crown belongs to whoever is powerful enough to take it. Your uncle's men answer to me now. If I so desired, I could take the throne of Merintas. Now. By force. But I do not choose to. For negotiation and diplomacy are far less hateful methods than bloodshed. And I have a caring soul."
"Caring soul? Ha!"
"Why else would I reach out in peace to the Tribes of Lojarin?" Haurek said with a smirk.
Pelan was shocked. He stood silent for awhile.
"Then you have betrayed all we have come to stand for."
"Oh, such prejudice! Pelan, have you ever wondered whether our enemies really want to be our enemies, or if they just are because of the injustices our ancestors committed?"
Pelan was again silent. He couldn't argue with Haurek on that point.
"Perhaps. But that isn't the problem. You ally with the Tribes of Lojarin and you ally with what...who they stand for!"
"And how do you know Lojarin is such a dark and evil god?"
"He demanded the killing of men, women, even children, Haurek!"
"Pelan, Pelan. You are naive. I have seen things that would drive your fragile mind into pieces. I have spoken with Lojarin! He has revealed unto me mysteries that explain all of what has come to pass! Mysteries and...rites," he said with a flash of excitement in his eyes.
"A bit of information my father would be interested to know, considering your recent favor in his eyes."
"Run off and tell your father, Pelan, and I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully."
"What are you afraid of? You've spoken with Lojarin! Tell my father who he really is, who you know him as! If all is well with this so called god, why not end the prejudice?"
"Biases don't change. Lojarin has his reasons, but Merintas will never understand. You will suffer if you tell him."
"If you kill me, you lose your chance at the throne, Haurek. Accept my challenge. Let us settle this by the laws of justice. Do so, and I might let this argument fade from my memory."
"You are cunning, if not smart. Very well! I give you a day to study the tablets. You may choose our method of combat! But know this, cousin! I will not rest until you cower before me in abject terror or until you are dead, whichever comes first!"
Pelan stormed off to the great library. Hiding in a corner, Pelan wept at this sudden betrayal by one he had held in high esteem.
Haurek against me, Arrana demanding my blood, my uncle dead. What further blows can I take and still survive? Pelan wondered.
****
Pelan returned to speak with Haurek the next day.
"Well, cousin. You are prompt. What is your answer?"
"It was tricky, Haurek. I wanted to choose an art that would not require too much...thinking for you, nor too much cunning, nor too much artifice. Still, an art with honorable and proud tradition must be chosen, musn't it? I pity the warriors who challenged each other to a game of Sheep Tossing, Shepherd Kings or no."
Haurek scowled. Pelan repressed a smile at his joke.
"Finally, an answer came to me. And so, in the way of tradition, I shall state it. Haurek Elritora, I do challenge thee by the ancient laws for the Shepherd's Throne. This shall be accomplished through the art of Wolf's Dagger."
Pelan was silent. He could tell that Haurek was impressed, despite how hard he tried to hide it.
"Do you accept this challenge, Haurek?"
"On second thought, no. It is not worth the effort. You are a weak opponent."
"Then Merintas shall know of your folly."
Haurek shrugged. Then he drew a dagger and held it to Pelan's throat.
"We are alone. There is no help for you here. I am finished parleying with you. You are not my equal. You are not even my opponent. Prepare for your end, cousin."
Pelan was stiff with terror. He knew not what to do. In desperation, Pelan muttered under his breath,
"Ya. Aid me."
For a long while, there was silence. Then Haurek raised to strike. Pelan closed his eyes. He heard a clang of metal on wood. He opened his eyes. The dagger lay on the floor.
"Impossible! How could my hand have slipped? No matter. If I cannot defeat you here and now, then I accept your challenge, Pelan Elmerintas."
"Very well. We battle today."
"Today?"
"Yes. If you are so superior to me, that should be simple, should it not?"
"Don't patronize me!"
Pelan shrugged and left. He went to go and see Sanigra.
"Pelan, this is foolishness. No one's challenged an heir in decades! And these methods are archaic and dangerous."
"Master Sanigra. I'm not asking you for your opinion. I'm just asking you to be a practice foe for me while I await the time of the duel."
"If you were not a prince, I would strike you for your folly. Nevertheless, I am bound to obey your request," Sanigra sighed in defeat.
The two drew daggers. The battle began. Sanigra fought hard. Pelan was almost pushed to the ground.
If I cannot win against my own teacher, what hope have I of defeating Haurek? Perhaps I can imagine Sanigra as Haurek.
Immediately, Pelan's strikes improved. He slashed. He struck. Sanigra parried with intense focus.
"Pelan, don't overdo it!"
"Silence! You’re disturbing my focus!"
Pelan continued to press the attack. It was even for awhile, but eventually Pelan emerged stronger. One slash left a thick line of blood across Sanigra's cheek. Still he continued. Finally, Sanigra kicked Pelan in the stomach. Pelan collapsed, dropping his dagger. When he finally gained his air back, he said,
"Was that necessary?"
"You could have killed me, Pelan! You've certainly left a scar that will not heal quickly. What were you thinking? I am not Haurek. And with the way you're fighting now, I am extremely grateful for that."
Pelan glared, still feeling the remnants of his battle rage.
"Down! I have....wait...Sanigra, I'm sorry. I forgot myself."
"So it would appear. I would advise you to be very careful. Though you are wise beyond your years, the few people who earn your enmity are perhaps overpayed in vengeance. Never lose control. It lessens your presence of mind, and it will get you into trouble. If you are really serious about your apology, I would advise you to seek out the guidance of Ya." Sanigra berated. He wiped his brow with a cloth and wrapped a bandage around his chin and cheek.
"I deeply apologize, Sanigra. I didn't intend for this to happen. I will strive to follow your advice."
****
Later that day, the inhabitants of the castle gathered to watch the duel.
"Merintas, do something about this! Either your nephew or your son will be seriously injured, possibly maimed. Won't you tell them to end this foolishness?" Elinu challenged.
"I must abide by the laws of our ancestors. If I don't, who will? Ritora is no longer alive to advocate their ways. I am almost certain Haurek will not follow them."
"Then why did you name him as your heir?"
"Because Elinu, the laws can be changed. With enough time and enough counsel. If our lineage dies, however, there will be no time for these things to happen. I am not attached to the laws. I am attached to the guiding wisdom behind them, and to the people who wrote them."
"Yet you follow them so closely, even against your better judgement."
"The people would not believe in me if I didn't. They would think me mad. barbaric. Maybe even heretical."
"Heretical? Have the Shepherd Kings become a cult? Have we deified our ancestors, Merintas?"
"I would be accused of blasphemy if I said so openly, but I'm afraid that I see what I see. I must follow the laws, or lose the peoples' support. It is not what the writers of the Codes would have wanted, but it is what has come to pass that they are worshipped far more than Ya ever was."
"What do you say? You dare to affront our predecessors? The ones who brought order out of chaos? This is madness you speak!"
"That may be, my dear. That may be."
The king and queen turned their attentions to the duel that had now begun. Haurek and Pelan each held a dagger that was curved and had been chipped to be sharp on all faces. Haurek slashed. Pelan dodged. Haurek made a feint and drew blood on Pelan's stomach. Pelan doubled over.
Sanigra walked over to Merintas.
"What are the conditions for victory, Your Majesty?"
"The loser is the first one to back down and leave the fight."
"You mean this could be a fight to the death?"
"We will try to prevent it, if things seem to be going that way. But it is a remote possibility."
"This is madness," Sanigra muttered to himself.
Pelan recovered and charged at Haurek with new and vengeful resolve. He sliced into Haurek's arm. Haurek slashed randomly, trying to recover.
The duel continued. Finally, an hour had passed, and the two were both scarred and bleeding. Haurek, however, had emerged with fewer scars and wounds, and moved in for the finish with a stab. Pelan managed to use the remainder of his strength to grab the dagger by the hilt, halting Haurek's strike.
"I will...not...give up," Pelan grunted at Haurek.
"Then this ends here. You first. Then your father and mother. The Shepherd Kings die now!!" Haurek whispered.
Pelan was suddenly filled with rage.
"NOT WHILE I DRAW BREATH, TRAITOR!" he screamed and brought the dagger down on Haurek's chest. Pelan's cousin collapsed, unconscious.
Merintas rose from his chair with a look of fury.
"Faline! Take Haurek to the infirmary! Sanigra! Take my son and yourself to the throne room. He has much to answer for," ordered the king, glaring at his son with these last words.
As Haurek was carried out of the arena, Pelan stood paralyzed.
<
****
Awhile after noon, Merintas stormed into the throne room.
"I want an explanation, Pelan. And I won't take any falsehoods for an answer," he said with a tone that bordered on a snarl.
"How's Haurek?" Pelan asked, immediately regretting the question when he saw his father's face.
"He will live. Faline's students are very good physicians. Courtesy of your hatred, he will be too weak to walk again, unless my servants can devise some miraculous aid. How could you, Pelan?!"
Pelan looked at Sanigra. Sanigra shrugged helplessly. Pelan sat for a long time, teary eyed and silent. Then, he bowed deeply and said, head to the floor,
"Father. No, I won't be so presumptuous. King. My liege. I am truly, honestly and without artifice, sorry. I knew not myself. And though Haurek did speak against me, my actions were entirely my own. I am no longer worthy to be your heir, son or prince. Place upon me any punishment you wish, my lord. I will take it."
Sanigra scowled.
"Yes, sword teacher? You have something to say?" Merintas said with a slightly more subdued glare.
"Pelan's actions were not unmerited."
"What proof do you have of this?"
"I hear Haurek whisper to Pelan these words, and I assure you, my liege, Each one is verbatim: 'Then this ends here. You first. Then your father and mother. The Shepherd Kings die now.'"
"You lie! You only wish to protect your pupil!"
"My lord, Sanigra is right. Haurek indeed spoke those words exactly to me. And my indignation overcame all restraint."
"I will not tolerate slander. You are already slated for punishment, Pelan. Do not test my restraint. As for you, Sanigra, a far worse fate shall befall you for speaking ill of my heir to my face! Jotura!"
A tall warrior approached the throne.
"Yes?"
"Schedule this insolent one for execution. Tomorrow!"
"Yes, my lord."
Pelan jumped to his feet.
"No! Please!" he exclaimed
A voice was heard from the back of the room.
"That's enough, Merintas!"
All in the room looked to the door. The queen stood there, calm, yet stern.
"Elinu. This is not your line of duty."
"I won't stand for this! Sanigra is a trusted friend, a good man and a valuable mentor to Pelan! Now, you have truly gone mad!"
"I will decide what is right and wrong!"
"No. You will not. If you want me to remain here any longer, you will not."
Merintas rose from the throne. Then, thinking better of it, he sat down.
"But Elinu, what of Haurek?"
"I do not say Pelan should escape punishment. But be fair to him, and certainly release Sanigra from your fury!"
The king sighed. He waved his hand, calling off the execution order.
"What do you propose we do?"
"Sanigra will not be punished. I heard Haurek whisper something to Pelan. Whatever it was, our sword master is not attempting to be treasonous. As for Pelan, let him choose his own punishment."
If you are really serious about your apology, I would advise you to seek out the guidance of Ya, Pelan thought, remembering Sanigra's words.
"Very well. Son, what is your choice?"
Pelan thought carefully about his decision.
"Send me to the Monastery of the Benediction of Ya. I will become a monk."
Merintas raised an eyebrow, surprised by Pelan's choice. Elinu smiled.
"But such a punishment is too soft, and not the right sort of instruction for the son of a king!"
Elinu spoke.
"Accept his choice, Merintas. He may indeed be wiser than us all for choosing Ya over state and kingdom."
"So be it. Take one horse. Leave before anyone in the castle arises. I do not wish to see you again. Alas, I shall be forced to in time. Return at the end of your novice period, in 3 months. I will not welcome you back to my house, but we shall decide your final fate."
Pelan shrunk at his father's harsh words, but he simply bowed. He embraced his mother. Then he bowed to Sanigra. To his surprise, Sanigra placed a hand on Pelan's shoulder and knelt before him. The ancient gesture of deep respect to a ruler or commander. Pelan walked out of the throne room, tears in his eyes. Of sorrow. Of guilt. Of joy. Of hope.
****
That morning, before sunrise, Pelan went to the stables as his father had instructed. He chose a horse he had ridden before, a horse he had come to develop a bond with.
"It seems we are called into exile, Brindhan. You and I," Pelan said with a sad sigh. The horse gave him a quizzical look.
"Much has happened. Much that should not have happened. Still, for all that is to come, I'm glad to have you with me."
This seemed to satisfy the horse, and together, they rode into the hills. He would reach the monastery by nightfall, if the riding was swift.
He stopped very briefly at a town to rest awhile, before swiftly moving on. By the time Pelan had reached the monastery, it had begun to rain, a storm that he was now right in the middle of. Indeed, Pelan would have missed the monastery entirely had it not been for the great torch beacon that the monks of Ya lit each night to guide both travelers and their own kin to the place. Pelan knocked upon the wooden gate. A young man in dark robes answered the door. Saying nothing, he beckoned Pelan to enter. He obeyed.
As Pelan strolled through the courtyard towards the receiving room, he was almost spooked by the quiet. The only sound came from the rain, a few monks reciting an evening chant, and the sound of his own footsteps. He was greeted in the receiving room by an older monk in robes of tan. Still without a word, Pelan was gestured to sit. He sat in a hard wooden chair. Finally, after a long period of silence, the monk spoke.
"Greetings. You are Pelan?"
Pelan nodded.
"I was informed of your arrival. I hear you come here under the High King's punishment. What was your crime?"
Pelan hadn't intended to answer, yet the monk's manner seemed so calm and peaceful that he felt no deep judgemental guilt or anger within. So he replied honestly.
"I almost killed a man. My cousin. The heir to the throne," Pelan said with a trace of bitterness. "You'll probably want to reconsider keeping me now."
"Do you regret your action?"
"Well...no. I regret that my anger overtook me and allowed me to proceed too far with my quarrel, but I saved the king's life by doing so. Does that change anything?"
"Ya is mysterious. It matters not now. So, putting that aside, you will need a room during your trial period. Follow me. By the way, you may call me Brother Feloris."
Pelan shrugged and followed Brother Feloris up several long flights of stairs.
No wonder the monks I've seen so far don't seem portly from lack of activity. These stairs would challenge a king's warrior!, he thought, repressing a smile.
They finally stopped in front of a room. It was bare, except for a bed, a table and a candle.
"You will sleep here. Breakfast is after the second bell. We will not wait for you. You may awaken at the first bell if you wish, but novices are not permitted to attend the Sacred Dance. I bid you blessings and good night."
Brother Feloris left the room. Pelan sighed and tried to make himself comfortable in the strange, rough bed.
I thought I had escaped my father's wrath. This won't be a walk in the sunlit courtyard either, though.
****
Time passed. Pelan grew used to his life. Indeed, the routine cleared a lot of uncertainty out of the way. Breakfast at the second bell. Prayer and Song after that. Time spent in the Hall of Archives with Brother Feloris, learning to illuminate new books and catalogue old ones. Solitary time of meditation and prayer to Ya. Supper. Evening group devotional. Sleep.
As the routine continued without fail, Pelan began to feel that while it left no time in his day, it cleared up hours of space in his mind. To contemplate the future. The past. The present. And Ya. That was the strangest part, Pelan decided. All his friends and family spoke of Ya as a legend or as a being to try and emulate. He was a figure of virtue. It was only those mad desert tribesmen and women who thought he was a living, active being. Everyone knew that. Anyone who didn't was either mad, a fool or at the very least misguided. Yet these monks didn't seem to think so. Some found it all tedious of course, but for every bored worshipper it seemed there was also one whose connection to Ya was real enough to be visible. It was in the way they spoke. The way they moved. The way they prayed. And in the way that they seemed to bring kindness and mercy into even the most unlikely situations.
Little by little, piece by piece, Pelan began to wonder if Ya was perhaps more than a cultural creation. If he maybe was indeed real and present in the world.
Of course, there were other things on Pelan's mind. In a rare choice for a monastery, the Monastery of the Benediction of Ya accepted men and women.
Pelan's environment and introspection kept him from noticing this too much, but there was one young nun, around his age, who seemed to continue drawing his attention.
One day, Pelan spoke to Brother Feloris on the matter. To which the monk responded,
"I am not, perhaps, as my predecessors were. I am not the highest among the brethren, but I am perhaps next in rank. Yet I do not oppose the idea of relationship among our own. There are vows that must be kept, to be sure. Boundaries that must not be violated for the sake of our devotion to Ya. Yet I think the long winter nights grow very dark and very cold very quickly without something more than mere company. You are a novice and Renea a novice as well, so indeed the two of you are not bound by our vows. I would counsel you in two possible courses of action. Attempt to convince Renea to leave with you when your time of penance under the High King has passed. The two of you could then decide how to live your lives without our restrictions. If not that, then stay with us, and see. If Ya deigns it within his design, he may allow your paths to remain crossed. Yet I would caution you to think of her as a companion, not as a partner. For there are certain lines you must take care in treading, lest you err and break our sacred vows."
"Thank you, Feloris,"
"You are welcome. Blessings go with you," he said in a benediction, touching Pelan's forehead.
By the end of 3 months, Pelan's time as a novice was almost over. However, something on the second to last day of his monastery novicehood would change his life forever.
Morning prayer and song had finished. The other monks began to file out. Something, however, compelled Pelan to remain. He sat in silence until all the others had left. After a moment, Pelan was blinded with a golden light.
"My God!"
"No. You have not accepted me yet as your God. Yet I am Ya. And times change those within them. Pelan, your future is filled with potential. My potential. There is a choice you shall soon be forced to make. Depending on the results of your choice, you shall either become a conqueror and king, or a saint and savior. It is up to you," spoke the divine voice. It was somehow softer and more gentle than Pelan had expected, though it bore an undercurrent of fierceness that he knew would send evil to its knees, trembling.
"Why me, o great Ya? I'm hardly virtuous, and I'm too weak to do either of those things."
"Question not my plans! When the time arrives, it shall feel right and natural. Go forth in my light, Pelan. I will be watching you. I care for you deeply."
And with that, there was silence, and Pelan saw that the light was coming from the sun through the window.
<
"That was no vision of the imagination. I am sure of it. We shall see how my life unfolds now."
A moment later, Brother Feloris entered the chapel.
"Pelan. Abbot Namar wishes to see you. You and Renea."
Pelan swallowed. He had only met the abbot once during his stay, and he hadn't liked the man at all. If Brother Feloris was devoted and dedicated, the abbot was fanatically devoted and intolerant of anything less than pure dedication. Pelan cautiously voiced his concerns to his mentor.
"Brother Feloris. Is this absolutely necessary. I don't wish to speak ill of the abbot, but to me he seems far..."
"...Too singleminded? You are not the first to say such, Pelan. Still, if you wish to know my opinion, I think that it is good to have as our leader someone more devoted than we. It allows us to have an example to strive to be closer to but not exactly like. I will also give you some comfort. You are to be reevaluated as your novcie period has finished. Namar has not summoned you for any kind of lecture."
Pelan breathed a small sigh of relief. He followed Feloris quietly up several flights of stairs to the quarters of the abbot.
Though slightly more furnished than the majority of the monastery rooms, the abbot's room was still very simple. It contained a table, four chairs, a wall painting, a bed and a writing desk. Sitting at the table was Namar himself. Of the entire monastery, only he wore a robe of white. Pelan sat quietly next to Renea, who was already present. Abbot Namar had his eyes closed, deep in contemplation. After almost half an hour, Namar opened his eyes. Pelan was sweating with anticipation and nerves. Renea seemed calm, but her eyes darted across the room.
"Welcome, to the both of you. Feloris, you may leave."
Brother Feloris bowed slightly and left, closing the door with an ominous thud.
"Both of you have completed your novice period. It is now time for you to decide. Enter into our society fully, or return to outside life."
Both were silent, waiting to see if the abbot would go on.
"I believe I know your thoughts. You believe I will punish you for associating so closely. However, I will simply say that that is not my affair, and will only become mine if you continue to live among us. Therefore, speak your choices. Speak them carefully, for I would not wish you to feel the smallest bit of...regret," Namar said with a steely emphasis.
Pelan took a deep breath. He had been considering this day for a long time. He knew that his choice would upset his father, but it seemed the only way to pursue his future and his calling.
"Abbot Namar. My request will seem presumptuous, and for that I apologize. Yet..." Pelan debated with himself whether to share his vision of Ya. He knew what the citizens of Merintas' kingdom would say. Yet here, he knew not whether he would be considered blessed or heretical. He finally decided to explain.
"I believe I have spoken with Ya. He appeared to me this morn, within the chapel. And he told me that my future would involve an important choice. If I return, as I am bidden, to the court of my father, he will be swift and harsh in his punishment. I do not wish to avoid responsibility, but I must follow Ya's guidance. I cannot do that within the walls of my father's kingdom. So I would ask, abbot, if you would allow me to remain, but become a grey wanderer. To go out and bring Ya's blessing to the waiting world."
Namar was silent.
"I don't entirely believe your claims of vision. Yet I will not berate you for them. As for your request, I warn you that the life of a wandering monk is not easy. It is perhaps more austere than the life within these walls. Are you certain?"
Pelan nodded.
"Of course, Merintas would send his rage upon the monastery if I allowed this. Still, I wonder if it is not called for. The king, with all due respect, has lost much wisdom in these years of war. Your summons to Ya's will may be just the sort of wake up call he needs."
Namar fell silent again, eyes closed. Pelan heard him whisper a prayer for guidance.
"I will speak with Feloris on this matter. You will know soon. You are foolish, Pelan, but I am a believer in a kind of holy foolishness. And you, Renea? What is your choice? You may do what you will, but know that these walls are perhaps the safest place for you now."
Pelan looked at Renea questioningly.
"I sought sanctuary here. My mother is one of the few threats to Lord Arrana, along with your father's line. Arrana's assasins almost caught up to me. Luckily, I made it here."
Pelan was surprised. He had never learned this.
"But as for me, I will go wherever Pelan goes. With the future of the Misty Isles as it is, we will be better together."
"Leave me. Feloris and I will talk."
****
Feloris entered the room. Namar stood with one hand on the table, eyes closed.
"What is it, Abbot?"
"Pelan claims he has seen Ya. Spoken with him. Ya apparently instructed the boy regarding an important choice in his future. Pelan says he cannot follow it with his father's judgement keeping him tied down, to make a long discussion short. He wishes to become a grey wanderer. Renea with him. A prince and a political firebrand's daughter."
"I see why there's a problem."
"Feloris, I firmly believe his supposed encounter was a delusion. I'm not as secular as main society, but Ya doesn't work like that."
"And if it wasn't delusion? We can't take that kind of chance. Our duty is to the divine first, even if country should fall for it."
"It's not that simple. The decision I give to Pelan will change the entire future of the Misty Isles, and either way it won't be well. Who would have imagined that the choice would fall to a single monk?"
"Perhaps that is Ya's intent. The boy said they spoke of choices. Something needs to happen. The Sheperd Kings will fall soon if something is not done. Lojarin, forgive me for being blasphemous, is poised to strike. Someone needs to be there to pick up the pieces if we're to have anything resembling a future."
"Then you say I should grant their request? Be careful what you speak."
"Namar, I am not forcing anything on you. You are the Abbot and have taken this responsibility upon yourself, with the order's blessing. I merely contemplate what will happen. I can see each possibility. Granting Pelan's request seems to be the only one that might result in peace. If you send him home to Merintas, he will no longer be able to change anything, and may die. Haurek will take the throne, by force if he has to. Only after he tries to ally with the Tribes of Lojarin will he realize his mistake. Arrana will kill him, then give power to Lord Shakal. And then Lojarin will have won."
"Shakal. He isn't a mere legend?"
"No. He has the Tribes wrapped around his finger. And if rumor is true, he is Lojarin's highest servant."
"And there lies another problem. This decision involves a theological issue as well. If we accept Lojarin as real, would I be betraying everything I know of the divine if I refused Pelan what he asked? Am I being blasphemous for even thinking that Ya is vulnerable?"
Feloris was silent for a long while. Finally, he said,
"That's a question we will never answer. We can only take what we do know and assume the worst, to be prepared. Make mistakes boldly. Lojarin is said to work through chaos. Through disharmony and darkness. Letting Pelan and Renea take this position will allow them to stand against the coming doom. I can't promise it will all end well. But if we send them home, we will have upon our souls the crime of letting all of Ya's greatest servants fall like logs when we could have tried to stop it."
"That's rather accusatory, Feloris."
"Your manner has warranted it."
****
Pelan saw Brother Feloris approaching. He looked grim and grave.
"What is the Abbot's response?"
"We must find the two of you grey robes. He has accepted your request. I warn you, Pelan, this will cause a great amount of danger. Merintas will try to bring you back. And when he is gone, Haurek, Arrana and Lord Shakal will want your blood and Renea's."
"Lord Shakal?"
"The Acolyte and High Priest of Lojarin himself."
"Then Lojarin is real?"
"That is a question that has plagued the Monastery of the Benediction of Ya for decades. We are not taking any chances, however."
Pelan was silent. He went and found two grey robes.
<
"We leave tonight. We should go to my mother's homeland first. She is no friend of Lojarin, but she does not support the Shepherd Kings, either."
"So we're caught in the middle of a three way war," Pelan exclaimed.
"If it were easy, Ya would have not spoken to you in the flesh," Feloris said. "Go in peace."
****
3rd Tablet: Autumn Chill
Pelan and Renea stopped at many villages along their path to their destination. To Pelan's surprise, Ya began to endow him with healing powers. Many who had been given up as lost were healed by Pelan and Renea. One village, however, presented a harsh problem. When the two entered, the were greeted by the governor.
"You are Pelan Elmerintas?"
Pelan was silent.
"It's no longer Elmerintas. But I am Pelan. And this is Renea, my companion."
"Come, both of you!"
He led the two monks to a decrepit, rotting barn. Pelan shivered. The door was opened. Within sat a small and emaciated boy, perhaps around 12 or 13. He shivered and raged at the air around him.
"No! Curses be upon thee! You shall fall under my wrath!" the boy said in a dark and chilling voice.
Renea was about to ask the governor what was going on, but Pelan silenced her.
"Ya will provide," Pelan said softly, surprised by his faith, that he would have thought impossible even up until 2 years ago.
Pelan walked out to a nearby hill and listened. There was silence for hours.
Renea walked off to have tea with some other village people. They all sat around a fire in the center of the village.
"Poor Kerrent," one said.
"Curse Lojarin! His spirits are powerful!"
"You believe the boy is possessed?" Renea asked.
They all nodded.
Pelan returned.
"I will do my best," he said, and began walking towards the barn. His shoulders were low.
"What troubles you?" Renea asked, following him.
"Don't tell the governor or the villagers. I won't be casting out a demon. I will be casting out Lojarin himself," he said, trembling.
"Surely not, Pelan? That can't be. He doesn't...shouldn't work like that."
"Renea, I have not believed that any god has worked like the way they have in the past few years. Yet they have."
Renea noticed they weren't headed for the barn.
"Where are you going?"
"To take a branch from the Stag Tree. I have been instructed."
He walked to the tree and snapped off a white branch, long and stout. He walked back towards the barn, then stopped and shivered.
"Renea, I can't do this! I've only been at this for a year. If that being...that supposed god is in there right now, I know not what to do," Pelan said.
"Do what you have been guided to do."
Pelan sighed and walked in with Renea. The boy known as Kerrent looked up hopefully at Pelan.
"Can you help?"
"I will try, my friend. I will try."
Suddenly, the boy was overshadowed.
"So...my enemy's new greatest warrior has arrived," the voice of Lojarin said with an audible smirk.
"Back! By the power of the light!" Pelan exclaimed.
"Slow down! No need for haste, as I always say. Don't you wish to know who you're fighting?"
Without waiting for an answer, a vision flashed in front of Pelan's eyes. He saw dark and maddening beasts and demons. Fire engulfed all. Slowly these images coalesced into a face. Pelan shuddered in horror when he realized it was the face of Merintas.
"No!"
"Really, are you that surprised?"
"You lie! My father may be misguided, but he is not your weapon to wield!"
"Not yet, little one. Not yet. But I have an advantage on him. In his eyes, I am a superstition. A primal myth. A relic from days long gone. As long as he believes such, he does not guard himself against thee. And he shall be doomed. You...shall be doomed!"
Lojarin laughed. And as he did, Pelan's fear grew, until he could scarcely move. He felt just as he had when Arrana had tried to kill him. Helpless and frightened.
Strangely, words from Brother Feloris entered his mind.
<
Breakfast is after the second bell.You may awaken at the first bell if you wish, but novices are not permitted to attend the Sacred Dance. I bid you blessings and good night.
I bid you blessings and good night
I bid you blessings and good night
I bid you blessings...
Suddenly, Pelan's strength began to return to him. Cautiously, he waved the wooden stick in a formation he had been instructed to use.
"In the name of Ya, I cast thee out! Begone, and trouble this young one no more!"
Kerrent shook and spasmed, but Lojarin remained.
"A child's charm, really. So noble. So pitiful. There is too much doubt within you. And now...you will die. This boy will die. And your lady friend will die."
Renea snatched the stick from Pelan's hand. She spoke, using the same formation.
"In the name of Ya, I cast thee OUT! BEGONE, AND TROUBLE THIS YOUNG ONE NO MORE!"
Lojarin roared a deep and terrifying roar. Then there was smoke, and he left.
Renea collapsed.
"Renea! Wait! Are you...all right?"
There was silence. No breath. No vitality. He realized she had died in casting out Lojarin. Pelan wished tears would come, but none did.
Laying her body on the straw, he went and brought Kerrent back to his family. Then he wrapped her in a cloth and perfumed it with spices, speaking a blessing over her.
<
<> Pelan admitted to himself with shame.
<
That ruled out Lojarin as the speaker, Pelan decided.
<
****
Years passed. Pelan went from town to town, continuing his work. Eventually, he heard news that Merintas had died. Uncertain of how Haurek would take his reappearance, Pelan considered.
<>
Eventually, he decided to just go after the funeral but before the gravediggers commenced with the burial. Taking Brindhan, he rode back to his father's kingdom.
He reached the graveyard, and walked to his father's casket. Kneeling before it, he held Merintas' hand and said,
"We never had the chance to reconcile. You disowned me as your son. I disowned you as my father. Neither of us would see sense. But, if nothing else, father, know this. I am deeply sorry for abandoning you. And I forgive you for your anger against me."
Pelan, trembling with grief, made a sign of blessing with his staff. He heard footsteps behind him.
"Well, well, well. What a surprise!" Haurek said with menace in his voice.
A dagger was drawn.
"Haurek, please. I'm not here to take anything from you. I only wished to make amends for the grief I caused my father."
"No matter. Let's finish this. Pelan Elmerintas, I do challenge thee by the ancient laws for your life and allegiance. Do you accept this challenge?"
Pelan felt a sudden epiphany.
<
Pelan stared at Haurek with a glint in his eye. Then he said,
"No. I do not accept your challenge."
Haurek was dumbstruck.
"What?! No one just refuses a challenge."
"The old ways are dead, Haurek. My father was their last champion. He used them with justice, but now his time has ended. And the power of the ancient laws are broken."
Haurek's surprise blossomed into rage as Pelan spoke. Then he said,
"Curse you, cousin! You should not have returned. You have no right to speak against our authority."
Haurek blew a horn, and riders came into view. One was Lord Arrana, with several of his warriors. The other, cloaked in a robe that bore the symbol of Lojarin, a scarred eye, was Lord Shakal.
"Kill him. He is the last of those we seek to destroy," Haurek said.
"Very well. If it will appease your desire for my family's death, then kill me. I once would have wept for fear, but now I only weep for the divide between us, who were once kin," Pelan said. He knelt in the earth, head bowed, listening for guidance from Ya.
Pelan, it is said, remained there for 100 days and nights. Haurek and his warriors attacked constantly, yet not a single blow met its mark. Finally, they gave up in disgust.
"Thank you, divine one, for your grace. I will use your providence to the betterment of all," Pelan said, opening his eyes.
****
4th Tablet: Winter Solstice
Pelan sent a message to Haurek, asking for a peaceful meeting with Shakal and him on the ancient cairn of the first Shepherd King. Haurek reluctantly, and Shakal even more reluctantly, agreed.
When all were gathered, Pelan explained his compromise.
"You know you will not gain the full support of your people until no relative of the Shepherd Kings remains, Haurek. While I find this regrettable, I am willing to help you, if you will help me."
"I'm listening."
"Here and now, we will devise a new code of law. One that will keep people sound as well as safe. Contented and peaceful as well as provided for. In short, it shall be a new government that will respect its people. Do this for me, and I shall disappear from all knowledge, never to be heard from again. This will be enough for your people. Agreed?"
Haurek nodded with a grunt.
"All right. My first demand is for Shakal. Lojarin will no longer be worshipped. I have spoken with your deity. He is the cause of all the misery that has come to pass. All his temples must be burned or rededicated and consecrated to Ya."
"You ask much, Pelan Elmerintas," Shakal snarled. "But I will honor your request. I only ask that we be allowed to hold a death ceremony for him."
"A what?"
"To consign him to a respectful place among the Faded Ones. Those who were once great, but now no longer command followers."
"Very well. Secondly, each citizen must be provided for sufficiently."
And surprisingly, the code began to take shape. When it was done, it was far greater than the old ones had ever been.
Pelan left. There were only two more places to go now. One would be a short visit. One would be his home for the remainder of his years.
****
Haurek sat in the archives, pondering. He saw the chair that he and Pelan had once imagined as the Throne in their childhood games. He remembered long hours playing in the archives, poring over ancient maps of far off places. Most of all, he remembered Pelan's smile and his eyes that always seemed to be filled with wonder.
It had been 3 years since Pelan had left forever. A long and terrifying three years. Things were improving, without a doubt. The temples of Ya were helping the sick and poor more than the Shepherd Kings ever had, and the Codes ensured that Lojarin's followers were kept under control. Shakal, however, had placed himself firmly in the seat of power. Haurek was the ceremonial king, but it was only Pelan's code that kept Shakal from plunging the land into its doom.
<
That night, Haurek opened a cabinet in the archives. It had not been opened in many years, since that fateful day that Haurek had challenged his cousin. The king drew a ceremonial dagger. The same one. Moving through the castle as silent as the gentle breeze, he crept into Shakal's chamber. Unfortunately, the priest was awake. Haurek quickly pressed the point of the dagger into Shakal's neck, preventing him from escape.
"Lojarin's reign has ended, and you cannot bring it back. I was deceived, but now I see the truth. I will give you a ship. Sail far away, to the Eastern Continent. My sentinels will watch the shores. Do not return if you value your life," Haurek said through gritted teeth.
Shakal spat in Haurek's face.
"So be it."
Haurek called for his personal guards to take the old man to the ship. They obeyed.
<
****
Pelan knocked on the wooden gate of a place that was very familiar to him.
"Pelan! You've returned! It's been so long. Welcome, my former student, " Brother Feloris said with a grin.
"Thank you, Feloris. I have not come to stay. Still, it's good to be back."
"Come with me. I have ill news. Abbot Namar has taken ill. His last request is to see you. I am fortunate to be able to grant it. Come, come!"
The two friends walked up the stairs Pelan knew so well, and into the Abbot's room.
"Pelan? You're here! Thank heaven. I wish to thank you for saving the Misty Isles."
Pelan smiled.
"It wasn't my own doing. Many have aided me."
"I know. I wish to give you something. There is a book on the desk."
It was blank.
"I wish you to chronicle your life, so that a record may be preserved for the ages. And I also wish to commemorate your deeds. Pelan, I now name thee within the ranks of the Benevolent Ones, and bestow upon thee the title of saint."
Pelan said nothing, but bowed in respect to Namar. Namar smiled a joyful smile, then closed his eyes.
Feloris and Pelan remained silent for awhile. Then Feloris said,
"I'm glad you came to see him. I also congratulate you. I had no idea that sainthood was what Namar had in mind, but you of all people deserve it."
"Thank you, Feloris. It was not the way I expected to go down in history when I was a boy, but it is a very good way to be remembered. Is Namar..."
"Dead? No. I believe he will not live much longer, but he is asleep. I can see him breathing. Do you wish to stay with us awhile? We still recognize you as a monk of the order."
"That is a most generous offer, but I'm afraid I can't stay. I have been called to go and live my life on the Isle of Providence."
"The Isle of Providence? Really?"
Pelan nodded.
"The last time someone was called to Ya's island was before the Shepherd Kings. You have been given a great honor."
"I believe it. Still, I hope to visit again. I will send letters to the monastery."
"We shall be honored to receive them, Saint."
"None of that. We are both servants of a far greater master than any title could convey."
"Then, as one servant to another, I pray you will be blessed, Pelan."
"And also unto you, Feloris."
The two embraced, then Pelan made his way to the harbor. As he did, he saw a procession of guards carrying Shakal to a boat. The former warlord went in. Pelan stepped onto the pier where it lay tethered.
"It seems we are both on a journey," he said quietly.
Shakal looked up.
"Pelan? You are bold to return here, last of the Shepherd Kings."
"I carry that honor no longer. I have chosen to serve as a wanderer, not to rule as a king. And where does your journey take you?"
"The Eastern Continent, as if it matters to you. I've been banished."
"Amusing. I suppose the same could be said of me. I think the difference is that I await guidance for the future in the lands I am called to. You await what you believe to be punishment. Perhaps you should see how your life may change from this day."
"Leave me, Pelan."
"Of course. Only a suggestion."
****
Pelan set sail. After many days, he reached the shore of his destination. Breathing in the cool air, he smiled.
He built a home on the isle, and lived in peace to the end of his days.
