Upon a Star: Karyana's Journey: Chapter 28

A gathering of allies requires will, strength and wit... the Chosen's own are tested.

Chapter 28

Korgan didn't like the idea, but he had no choice. As he and Karyana trudged through the snow, blisteringly-cold winds blowing in their faces �" making their cloaks blow back and the snow chill their bones �", the two of them had to follow the half-buried road that led to the serpentine wisps of smoke that were barely visible in the blizzard.

The high priest had a very important reason for this: Bolestra was a fortified city, but its fortifications couldn't support both an attack on its own walls and one against the Shrine. The number of casualties, in such a situation, would be too great. The city had to defend itself in case of attack, but so did the Shrine.

However, it was the latter that needed the most support. Although it was perched high, with the cliff-side as a natural defense, the weather could both help and hinder the battle, as it made the use of catapults impossible, as the snow-logged wood would be too rigid and could snap if overtaxed. Also, it would make aiming arrows and spells especially difficult, as any miscast could lead to the death of the caster or that of any friendly troops.

The Shrine needed help, and the closest aid the high priest could find was from the Web of Heroes, a tightly-woven community of barbarians that were able to live off the land thanks to a potent mana leyline that snaked under their lands. It was also the birthplace of Baratus, and it would probably be for the best to have a friend-of-arms leading the counter-charge, should the enemy strike.

Still, Korgan couldn't help but wonder why such a force had been massing. Bolestran troops had reported their graves had been pillaged and coffins had been found empty. Couriers had been paid to remain silent, but tales of fallen men and women, raising from their graves and joining the growing ranks of an unholy army that was slowly forming around Snowbreak Coast, one of the few areas where ice-breaker ships would sail, were heard among the criers, causing the morale of the people to plummet. Already, funeral pyres had started to take the place of burials, and the guards had thrown torches into coffins. Ossuaries had been cleaned out, the skulls smashed to avoid skeletal servants from rising, and guards spent more time reciting prayers and building protections than anything else.

Karyana shivered as her pelt cloak almost blew away from the cold. She understood that they had to hurry, but had hoped for at least a pair of snow-shoes. Though her mana-weave of her boots were protecting her from the cold, she was still forced to wear a bear-hide overcoat, a wide collar of fur being the only distinctive trait that the person underneath was not a man �" the almost-too-big robe leaving a wide amount of cleavage, even so much as showing the robes that were underneath.

"How much farther?" she asked the priest, trying to keep steady as the wind-blown snow was pelting her.

"About one hour, two if the weather grows worse…" Korgan replied, giving a rough estimate. "It's not like we can fly over all this snow! Even my snowshoes are having a hard time."

The young woman brushed off a layer of snow from her cowl, then smiled as she came up with a solution. "Why fly when we can float?" she answered back.

Korgan wasn't sure if she was jesting, but when he saw the black-haired mageling draw something in the snow, he put two and two together. Walking over to the girl, he smiled as a large, snowflake-shaped mana disk, appeared three feet above ground.

Karyana tilted the disk lightly before putting one foot on it, the object reacting by lowering itself by a few inches as the weight distribution changed its axis. For the young woman, it was like climbing into a bath tub. Kneeling down in the middle of the disk, she motioned the priest forward.

Unsure of his own footing, the high priest jumped onto the disk, making it swivel on itself at the drastic balance shift, which forced the spell-caster to channel her own mana to balance the object in mid-air, now hanging less than two feet from the thick snow.

"Have you done this before?" Korgan asked, kneeling down on the disk as Karyana moved to the left, so that the two would be centered.

"Not really." She answered, which caused the high priest's eyes to widen out of worry. "Master Rauz used to do it. Just point where you want to go, and hold on!"

Though Karyana loved the feel of gliding over the snow, Korgan was trying not to show how petrified he was at the idea of having little to no control of his direction. The high priest finally relaxed after figuring out how to navigate the unwieldy-looking object, raising his pointing figured up and down to skim along peaks and dives, the mana-created vehicle moving almost as quickly as a horse would on a stone-cobbled road.

------

Alban waited for the doors to close as he welcomed two of his old comrades. "It's great to see you, Yurix!" he said, giving the elven ranger a warrior's handshake.

The silver-haired elf had to steady his arm and posture as his old comrade-of-arms' shake almost toppled him. "By the Wildbearer! I remember you being strong, but not THAT strong!" he said, checking his arm and fingers for any damage. "Have you been blessed by Raemu?"

The taller ranger smirked. "Not quite, but I have had my share of battles since Bejem." He replied with a hint of jest. "How was the trip?"

A woman's voice came from behind the two. "Not as good as I hoped." She answered in a flustered tone.

Alban looked to the side and noticed Meilin, dressed in thick robes that still showed her delicate figure, even under a cloak of beaver fur. Still, time seemed to have been fair to her, in more ways than one, as she looked much healthier than last he remembered her, when she was still under the influence of one of Xelnos' cultists.

"You don't look worse for wear, Meilin." The ranger spoke, making a proper gentleman's salute. "In fact, you look positively glowing."

The black-haired illusionist smirked, stifling a giggle. "You do have changed. Last I remember, you weren't so… polite." She commented as she removed her padded gloves.

The silver-haired elf shook his head lightly, his spiky hair and short ponytail barely moving, as if the snow had frozen them in place. "Enough with the how-do-you-doe's." he said, his tone growing serious. "We heard of the approaching army. There were criers and couriers all the way to Xenethil Keep that spoke of these… grim news."

Alban shook his head. "I wish this was nothing but rumors, but there has been many a report speaking of an approaching force of living cadavers and dark-skinned elves led by a small contingent of demons." The ranger explained. "Some rumors have also spread that Iron-Chain Pison leads the troops... if that's the case..."

"Looks like we arrived at the right time." Meilin commented, staring at the ranger with her mismatched-colored eyes �" one green, one hazel. "I'm sure we can help in one way or another."

Yurix rubbed the back of his neck. "Dearest, I think you should be careful. This isn't the time for lectures or hasty decisions."

The ranger cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean? Though the enemy may not be completely immune to illusions, her skills can still-" Alban's words were shut out when he noticed Meilin removing her cloak, showing a prominent belly.

Yurix let out a sigh. "I wanted her to stay behind, but she just wouldn't." the purple-eyed elf replied.

Alban placed a hand on the elf's shoulder and laughed. "So you finally made a man of yourself!" he said with a wide grin.

"I suppose so… but you know how impulsive women can be." He concluded, removing his own cloak. "Speaking of woman, I did receive a courier about a strange young human that has been traveling with you. A potential Chosen, from what I heard. Is she here? I would surely like to see-"

Meilin's slap cut the elf's words. "What he meant is that he wants to know if the rumors of this young sorceress are true. Supposedly, she stave off Iron-Chain Pison all by herself."

Alban folded his arms. "Errr... not quite. And she's not here right now." He answered in an embarrassed tone. "Korgan took her to find Baratus... I highly doubt she will be enough to influence his tribe into joining our cause, but I do hope it does."

------

The Strongmaul clan, of which Baratus was the chieftain's son, was known as one of the most difficult clans to negotiate with, and its men and women were known to be incredible warriors, showing feats of arms that rivaled trained warriors of Ravenhold.

The clan's hunting grounds were massive and spread wide, but their campgrounds were much smaller, as only a dozen tents and huts served as their domain. Still, the area was well-protected from the elements, as the territory was flanked by an ice-covered river, which served as a source of food in the winter and water in the summer. The local delicacy was known as "Ice-Breaker Stew", a particularly hearty fish stew, mixed with fresh or pickled vegetables. It was said that this meal would warm a person through the coldest of nights, and Karyana was actually glad that Baratus had offered them shelter and a bowl of the chunky meal.

"This smells delicious." The young woman spoke before swallowing a spoonful of the mixture. "Mmm! Oh, it tastes better than I thought!"

Korgan was used to the smoky taste of charred fish and the pickled vegetables used for the winter stew, but was surprised at how Karyana seemed to enjoy every bite like a child would.

Baratus, on his end, could only smile as he spooned himself another helping of the thick stew, the iron ladle quickly thrown back in the pewter pot. "I am glad to see you brought a comrade, old friend..." He said to the priest. "...especially one so charming."

Karyana almost dropped her spoon at the barely-concealed flattery. "Ah, don't worry, she of fair eyes." The rugged man spoke. "The Strongmaul clan are not just known for being powerful; we also have our charms. Perhaps you would like to partake in our tribe's competition, hmm? Surely the "Words of Power" are not stranger to you."

The young woman cocked an eyebrow. "The what?"

The high priest let out a sigh. "It's a custom they have. For the tribe to accept an outsider as a friend, they have to convince them. By word or by sword." He explained, swirling a reddish liquid in a emptied horn that Baratus handed him. "They just tend to boast their power and skill, and taunt themselves until one of them had enough."

The barbarian frowned. "Not quite." He retorted gruffly. "We challenge one another until the winner of this battle of wits stands alone. Some are less witty than others, and rather pull their swords out. I, myself, prefer the steel of battle than the battle of words. Far more energetic and refreshing."

Taking a moment to think, the black-haired young woman's smile widened. "Alright, then. I accept."

The high priest looked startled. "Are you serious?" he shouted. "Do you even know how to defend yourself in such a contest?"

Baratus clapped his hands together, not noticing the glint of emerald appearing in the girl's eyes. "Ah, splendid! Nothing like a friendly battle to cement relationships and make new allies."

"What do you mean by that?" the young woman asked, looking a bit curiously at the barbarian as he adjusted his studded hide armor.

"We have heard of what was happening around the Shrine you have constructed for the Great Ones." The barbarian replied as he cracked his knuckles. "The shamans have spoken of a coming war, and the chieftain has told us to be ready. What I find surprising is that the rune-readers have foretold you two would come. I still remember what the old crone said: 'A man-of-arms, bearing the gift of friendship, will arrive as a storm-crow, followed by the incarnation of the skies in flesh and blood.'"

Baratus turned his head towards Karyana. "This must mean that you are the Chosen of the Lady of the Starry Night." He concluded. "If so, then I suppose your tongue will be as silver as the lights that safeguard the dusk."

Karyana ignored the barbarian's words for a moment. "If this means you will join us to protect the Shrine, than I will accept any challenge."

-----

The tents were empty as night fell, the tribe fires lighting the sky like stars on earth. Drums, horns and flutes were played as tribesmen and women feasted and danced. Prayers were sung to the Planar of the Moon and the Childlord as children played about.

Korgan was hardly surprised by all the activity, as he had seen these celebrations in the past. However, he was in admiration at the child-like admiration Karyana had for the people and their traditions. She actually enjoyed herself quite well, as the children seemed to befriend her quickly, though the adults seemed to take more time to open up to her.

Before the great feast began, Baratus' father, an aging man that showed signs of wisdom along with strength that most people of Medierth would find impressive for an elder, rose from the middle of the circular alignment of stone-carved tables.

"My fellow kin! Tonight, the Chosen of the Night Sky has appeared before us." He began, immediately followed by a quick series of war-cries from his people. "As all of us know, the Lady of Alabaster shares her grace and wit with all she blesses, so tonight, we will test this new arrival… with the Words of Power!"

Loud applause and drum-rolls were heard in approval. "Let us meet the one who was chosen by the Night Sky." The chieftain added before looking at Baratus. "Son, call forth the Chosen."

The young barbarian nodded, bowing low, before looking back at the gathering crowd. "The rune-readers have spoken… of a child born in the night, blessed by the stars, sundered and reborn, lost and found." He spoke with a mildly nervous tone. "I first believed that this child would be a mighty warrior, a man of power, born as our forefathers have. But today, I learned the truth. Not a man, but a courageous woman who dutifully came to us, asking for aid against the coming evil. I bring you... she of fair eyes!"

Karyana rose from the seat where she was ordered to stay, just next to Korgan, to the crowd's startled uproar. Walking around the table towards the center of the half-circle, she looked about with some discomfort and nervousness as the tribe examined her. Having discarded her cloak, her sword was showing at her side, and her temples' clothes were of little protection against the cold breeze �" the snow having died down an hour ago.

The chieftain frowned as he looked at the black-haired young woman. "Hmmm... so, this "Fair Eyes"..." he said before examining her, taking a moment to leer at her face. "I see the Lady of Alabaster had made her fair of face, but is she the one?" The crowd started murmuring, finding the sight of a young maiden as a Chosen to be hard to accept.

Turning back towards the young woman after calming the crowd, the chieftain frowned at his son, then folded his arms. "So, child, do you come as the rune-readers have spoken? Are you the Chosen of the Night Sky?"

Karyana took a long breath before examining the elderly warrior. Though his skin was covered in battle scars, his stern expression was enough to tell her how much power this man had. "I will accept any challenge, as long as you aid us."

"So be it!" the chieftain bellowed to the applause of his people and the roll of the drums. "She of fair eyes will undertake the Words of Power."

Korgan walked over to Karyana. "Just listen to me for a second." He hastily whispered. "You must beat them without shedding blood. This would be a sacrilege!"

Baratius looked back at the crowd as the first opponent, a burly warrior dressed in tightly-packed hides etched together with chains, walked towards the young woman, unsheathing his claymore before stabbing it into the ground. "Ior will begin!" he shouted.

The dark-haired barbarian made a smug face as he looked at the young woman. "You, the Chosen? A wench like you? Don't make me laugh! I'll cleave you through!"

Karyana closed her eyes for a moment, not quite understanding the challenge. How do you defeat someone without shedding blood? Even weaving mana could incapacitate a warrior, and this was not the time or place.

The chieftain looked at the black-haired woman with a stone-cold stare. "Unsheathe and present your weapon, then stand your ground!" he shouted.

It finally dawned on her when she remembered what Baratus said: a silver tongue. Words of Power. "That's it!" she thought to herself. Rather than unsheathe her sword, she rose her arms, drawing a series of runes in the air. Though the crowd was becoming restless, the mood changed to shock as the young woman's sword rose out of her scabbard, spun in a half-circle before stabbing itself into the snow-layered earth, inches from where the claymore stood.

"Hold your breath, you boastful shrew, or my burning wrath will pierce you through!" she replied, adding a good amount of bravado to match the burly warrior.

Ior looked back at his claymore, let out a sigh, then smiled as he pulled the weapon out of the ground. "I will be interested in seeing your wrath in battle." He said before placing his hands together in a gesture Karyana didn't recognize.

"Ior has yielded!" Baratus spoke, which surprised the crowd. "Trod will be the next opponent!"

The second warrior to arrive made Ior and Baratus look like men, as his immense muscled form was a sight to behold. However, rather than place a weapon down on the ground, he picked up what looked like a steel rod the size of a small tree and slammed it into the snow next to the startled young woman. "My strength is bound to none! Too small! You'll never run, my strength, your fall!"

Karyana didn't like how this one was talking. If the men were all immense, muscle-bound brawlers, she hoped she wouldn't have to come to arms. But his clumsy words did tell her than the immense man, who could probably kill a person with a broken tin cup, was not that smart. "Your arms feel like stone, your eyes to fall…" she ordered, forcing a mana-weave into her words to calm the mind of the giant into blissful reprieve. "…So sleep as you atone, for my words are your call."

Trod could barely focus as he felt his mind feel boggy, as if he had drunk a keg of mead. Letting out a heavy yawn, he left the steel rod on the ground and walked off. "Trod too tired... time to sleep." He muttered before collapsing in a nearby pile of snow. Though the crowd was startled, the sound of loud snoring made most of them burst into a fit of laughter.

Baratius whistled as he looked back at her. "So golden her tongue that she can make a giant fall asleep!" he shouted, egging the crowd on. "Okrid is next!"

The next competitor was much smaller than the other two, and seemed even smaller than Korgan. However, he still showed some muscle, especially his legs. The man jumped from one leg to the other constantly before pulling out his daggers and throwing them in the ground, almost stabbing Karyana's boots. "Try no attack, I am far too quick! I'll stab you in the back before my mighty kick!"

The young woman folded her arms, smirking. "The fastest of the pack, your naught but a stick. In half you will crack with just a well-placed prick."

Okrid didn't look impressed. "Go ahead and try!" he shouted, quickly picking up his daggers.

Before Karyana could make a move for her sword, the speedy warrior was already holding his daggers against her, one in her back, the other around her throat. The drums switched to a single note beat as the crowd egged Okrid on.

"I warned you." the hasty fighter spoke.

"So did I." the young woman replied as she lurched her head back, knocking the back of her head against Okrid's nose. The hit forced the barbarian to drop the dagger that was against his throat, but the second one still left a cut on her back as she spun on her feet, thrusting her palms against his chest, chanting a rapid weave. In a matter of seconds, the quick-footed barbarian was knocked off his feet by the force she expelled from her palms, knocking him back several feet into the same mount of snow Trod was still sleeping in.

Korgan walked over to the young woman. "Are you alright? Let me treat that-" he said, attempting to lay his hands on the wound.

Karyana refused. "Not yet. I can still do this!" she answered, pushing the priest of Raemu away. "If I can't handle a little pain, I'll just be a laughing stock to them."

Baratus scratched his head as he looked at the next warrior to arrive. The man in question was actually one of the rune-readers, and his less muscular form was not quite the most welcome. "Very well, then. Since 'She of Fair Eyes' has bested Okrid even wounded, perhaps a stronger mind will be her undoing. Urdo will challenge next!"

The man who walked over to Karyana didn't look like a barbarian. Rather than being muscular or wearing hides, he was about as old as the chieftain and dressed in a fur tunic that was covered in baubles. She could feel a strong magical aura around him, but wasn't sure if it meant he was simply a collector of magical nick-knacks or a true mana-weaver.

"You bested the burly, so I know you're brave." Urdo began. "You bested the giant, so I know you're cunning. You bested the thief, so I know you're quick. So can you best me, if you know I'm wise?"

Karyana cocked an eyebrow, even as the scholarly man set her staff on the ground. 'That makes no sense. There's no rhymes in... wait.' She thought. 'He's not speaking them at the end, but at the beginning.'

It took her a few moments to come up with a proper response. "You tested my bravery and I fed your crave. You tested an ant that overcame your longing. You tested me brief, and lost your one trick. So try to best me, without saying lies."

Urdo's eyes widened. "Heh. So you figured it out, and even added rhymes to all of mine." He spoke, picking up his walking stick. "You must be the cleverest girl I have ever met."

Baratus looked back at the crowd. "It seems we have one last contestant in the crowd!" he shouted. "I present you Mili!"

Most of the men were cheering as a young woman with golden hair, tied in a thick braid, walked in the circle. She wore a leather headband, fox-fur covered armor, and wore breaches that let her legs and high leather boots show. She seemed to beam with confidence and it showed in her dark-brown eyes.

"I'm not here to fight, or talk about "Words of Power"..." Mili spoke, looking completely uninterested. "Let's just stop, alright, and call you the winner."

Karyana shook her head. "Nice try, but no." she flatly answered.

Baratus looked back at the two women. "What? Did she just give up?" he wondered out loud, causing the crowd to murmur.

The black-haired woman turned back towards the crowd. "That girl didn't participate properly. Look." She said, pointing to the dagger that the girl had on her side. "All the others put their weapons down before speaking, and she didn't. If I had answered, no matter if I had won, it would have been for nothing."

The barbarian woman nodded and smirked. "Smart girl." Was all she said before leaving. "I think you're clever enough to know when to fight and when not to. You passed."

Karyana let out a sigh of relief as she pulled her sword out of the ground, the crowd cheering one last time before the weapon was sheathed.

Baratus walked over to the high priest. "She did far better than you ever did."

The high priest let out a sigh. "Don't remind me… let's just wait for the celebrations to be over so we can go back to the Shrine…"

Author's Note

Any and all comments are welcome.