Black Heart, White Soul
"Steel!" The call rent the warm air of a summer twilight. Steel uth Matar sat with his chin on his arms, his arms on the bench which stood, hard cool marble, on the grounds of the Temple of Paladine, god of good.
Steel never went into the Temple. He was young, as immortal as the gods, it seemed, and therefore in no great need of any deities. Now, the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy got up, shoved his uncooperative hair out of his eyes, and jogged toward home and the sound of the voice. Sara, his foster-mother, stood in the doorway.
Foster-mother. He had always known it. In the small town, village was more the word that he was looking for, there was no such thing as a secret. Only when he was about seven had they moved to Panthalas, the capitol of Solamnia. He had grown up knowing that is mother was Kitiara uth Matar, a former DragonLord, one of the feared warlords trying to take control of Krynn. Was, because, he knew, she had been killed by her former lover, Dalamar the Dark, one of the most powerful mages on Krynn. Steel knew, that to preserve his honor, he must one day kill Dalamar to avenge his mother.
Steel had never known his father. In fact, he didn't know who his father was. Sometimes, when the other boys were especially angry with him, they would taunt him. 'Bastard' they called him. Never would he take this passively. He always struck out, lashing the word out of their mouths.
Why does it bother me? It shouldn't. In fact, I'll wager Kitiara didn't even know who my father was. This thought was accompanied by a bitter cynical smile.
Sara had seen the smile, and it seemed to her that an icy fist gripped her heart. Every day, she saw the darkness, the shadows grow within the boy she considered her beloved son. Even though he only seen twelve summers, every good quality in him was tainted with evil, every bad quality gilded with good. Contrary to Steel's thoughts, Kitiara had known who his father was. And she had told Sara, right before Steel's birth, when she had had a swamp fever, the kind very few survived. Sturm Brightblade, now a national hero, was the father. He was the brave young knight who had seen that the knighthood was falling apart, crumbling and being torn at the edges by greed and ambition. He was the only one who had seen this. Or if he was not, no-one else had had the courage to admit it, even to themselves. The thing that had set him apart was his nobility, courage, and the fact that he had seen the world through the eyes of his friends; slanted, half-elven eyes, eyes of a mage, small eyes of a dwarf…
Sturm had stood on the battlements, alone, to fight a battle with a dragon and his rider, a battle with only one possible outcome. He had only been armed with his father's sword, the sword that, according to legend, would only break if he did, and the Code of the Solamnic Knights. It stated 'Est Sularus oth Mithas'. Roughly translated, it meant 'My Honor is my Life'. He had died up there, finally opening the eyes of the other knights to the corruption and discord in their midst. But at what a bitter price. The DragonLord who killed him?
Kitiara.
Sara had almost fainted with shock when she heard of this. She could not look Steel in the face for days. To look at the boy and know that his mother had killed the man who was his father…
That night, after Steel was asleep, Sara went, for the first time in her life, to the Temple of Paladine. And every night after that, she returned there, praying for the boys soul. After Kitiara had been killed, she prayed even more feverently, for she knew that now the battle for boy's soul was to truly rage. Both Kitiara and Sturm wanted to claim the child who was brought into the world by accident, not design.
* * *
Steel padded into the room. He embraced Sara quickly, not liking displays of affection, thinking them to be embarrassing and unseemly. This was obviously inherited form his mother, or perhaps her half-brother, Raistlin. Raist was the most powerful mage on the face of Krynn. Now he was stuck inside the Abyss. Every time Sara thought of him, she thought, Here is more dark blood running in my child's veins. For Raistlin had been a black robed wizard, worshiping Nuitari, god of evil magic.
In any case, Steel slipped onto his stool near the hearth.
"What is bothering you, Steel?" Sara noted that the brown eyes were dark.
"We were playing."
"What?"
"'Knights and Dragons.'"
Sara recognized the game, popular among Solamnic boys, that required good military planning. She looked at her 'son' in puzzlement, for in games of war he almost always left the other boys in the dust.
"Actually, I didn't play. They wouldn't let me. I'm an outcast. And I always will be." Steel's eyes bored into Sara's. His precociousness was not borne of innocence, and it frightened her.
Suddenly, a thundering knock sounded at the door. It was now about 11 p.m.
" Whoever could that be?" Sara looked at the door in astonishment, and not a little fear. Steel turned and grabbed his dragon-headed dirk. It had been one of the gifts Kitiara had sent. She had promised to send money for Sara, and gifts for Steel, and she had kept her promise till the start of the war, when she had had more pressing matters on her mind. The gifts had all been warlike in nature. Steel adored them. As Kitiara had guessed, he was a born warrior.
As the door was flung open, all but torn off the hinges, Steel took up a fighting stance in front of Sara, still having the presence of mind to protect her when most other children his age would have gone screaming to their mommies, something Steel realized with a grim smile.
A dark figure stood framed in the doorway.
"You, boy, are you Steel uth Matar?" The scepter-like personage had a deep voice and the tone of one used to being obeyed.
"And if I am?"
"Meaning you are." The man replied curly. He had obviously dealt with defiant natures before and knew how to handle them. "I am Ariakan," the man continued. Sara gasped. This man was the son of Ariakas, a DragonLord, and Zeboim, goddess of the sea. He had been captured by the Solamnic knights during the war, but since they had been so impressed with his courage that they treated him with every respect. After the war ended, Paladine's knights had let him go, thinking that in these times of peace, he could do no harm.
They were wrong.
Not long after Ariakan was released, Takhisis, goddess of evil, came to him in the form of Dark Warrior, and ordered him to start a knighthood dedicated to her as the Solamnic knighthood was dedicated to Paladine.
"Those who are now boys will grow up in my service. You will raise them to worship me. I will own them, body and soul. When they are men they will prepared to give their lives in my cause."
Almost immediately, Ariakan had begun recruiting boys for the unholy army. It was kept an absolute secret. The only reason Sara knew of it was that her friend's son was taken. She had been sworn to secrecy.
Steel seemed drawn to Ariakan. "How did you know I was here?"
"That matter naught. What matters is that Takhisis commanded me to start a knighthood dedicated to her. You have been recommended."
Sara gave a muffled sound halfway between a sob and a gasp and stuffed her tightly clenched fist in her mouth.
"Listen to me, Steel." Araikan's blue eyes looked into the eyes of a young boy, a boy who had black, curling hair that tumbled over his shoulders and framed a face that was already handsome, a face that was strong and well proportioned, the brown yes large, dark and intense. He was dressed in a plain light gray tunic, with leggings of a darker shade underneath. Steel's favorite color was gray, Kitiara forbidding it be anything lighter and Sturm, his unknown father, pleading that it not be anything darker.
Araikan continued, "I offer you hard work, brutal toil, a harsh life with little ease, no comfort. You will gain no personal wealth. The most you can ever hope to earn will be the respect of your comrades-in-arms. You will forego the love of family and friends. Taking their place will be battle, glory, honor. Do you accept these terms, young Steel?"
"NO!!!" Sara struggled to get to the boy she loved more than life itself. Alas, the man who restrained her held her tightly, too tightly.
A battle raged within Steel uth Matar BrightBlade. Sara saw with horror the fight between haloed light and unholy darkness.
"I Do Accept, My Lord…"
Not the End*
*To see the fate of Steel BrightBlade and if he ever finds out whom his father is, read Dragons of Summer Flame, by Margaret Wies and Tracey Hickman.
"Steel!" The call rent the warm air of a summer twilight. Steel uth Matar sat with his chin on his arms, his arms on the bench which stood, hard cool marble, on the grounds of the Temple of Paladine, god of good.
Steel never went into the Temple. He was young, as immortal as the gods, it seemed, and therefore in no great need of any deities. Now, the dark-haired, dark-eyed boy got up, shoved his uncooperative hair out of his eyes, and jogged toward home and the sound of the voice. Sara, his foster-mother, stood in the doorway.
Foster-mother. He had always known it. In the small town, village was more the word that he was looking for, there was no such thing as a secret. Only when he was about seven had they moved to Panthalas, the capitol of Solamnia. He had grown up knowing that is mother was Kitiara uth Matar, a former DragonLord, one of the feared warlords trying to take control of Krynn. Was, because, he knew, she had been killed by her former lover, Dalamar the Dark, one of the most powerful mages on Krynn. Steel knew, that to preserve his honor, he must one day kill Dalamar to avenge his mother.
Steel had never known his father. In fact, he didn't know who his father was. Sometimes, when the other boys were especially angry with him, they would taunt him. 'Bastard' they called him. Never would he take this passively. He always struck out, lashing the word out of their mouths.
Why does it bother me? It shouldn't. In fact, I'll wager Kitiara didn't even know who my father was. This thought was accompanied by a bitter cynical smile.
Sara had seen the smile, and it seemed to her that an icy fist gripped her heart. Every day, she saw the darkness, the shadows grow within the boy she considered her beloved son. Even though he only seen twelve summers, every good quality in him was tainted with evil, every bad quality gilded with good. Contrary to Steel's thoughts, Kitiara had known who his father was. And she had told Sara, right before Steel's birth, when she had had a swamp fever, the kind very few survived. Sturm Brightblade, now a national hero, was the father. He was the brave young knight who had seen that the knighthood was falling apart, crumbling and being torn at the edges by greed and ambition. He was the only one who had seen this. Or if he was not, no-one else had had the courage to admit it, even to themselves. The thing that had set him apart was his nobility, courage, and the fact that he had seen the world through the eyes of his friends; slanted, half-elven eyes, eyes of a mage, small eyes of a dwarf…
Sturm had stood on the battlements, alone, to fight a battle with a dragon and his rider, a battle with only one possible outcome. He had only been armed with his father's sword, the sword that, according to legend, would only break if he did, and the Code of the Solamnic Knights. It stated 'Est Sularus oth Mithas'. Roughly translated, it meant 'My Honor is my Life'. He had died up there, finally opening the eyes of the other knights to the corruption and discord in their midst. But at what a bitter price. The DragonLord who killed him?
Kitiara.
Sara had almost fainted with shock when she heard of this. She could not look Steel in the face for days. To look at the boy and know that his mother had killed the man who was his father…
That night, after Steel was asleep, Sara went, for the first time in her life, to the Temple of Paladine. And every night after that, she returned there, praying for the boys soul. After Kitiara had been killed, she prayed even more feverently, for she knew that now the battle for boy's soul was to truly rage. Both Kitiara and Sturm wanted to claim the child who was brought into the world by accident, not design.
* * *
Steel padded into the room. He embraced Sara quickly, not liking displays of affection, thinking them to be embarrassing and unseemly. This was obviously inherited form his mother, or perhaps her half-brother, Raistlin. Raist was the most powerful mage on the face of Krynn. Now he was stuck inside the Abyss. Every time Sara thought of him, she thought, Here is more dark blood running in my child's veins. For Raistlin had been a black robed wizard, worshiping Nuitari, god of evil magic.
In any case, Steel slipped onto his stool near the hearth.
"What is bothering you, Steel?" Sara noted that the brown eyes were dark.
"We were playing."
"What?"
"'Knights and Dragons.'"
Sara recognized the game, popular among Solamnic boys, that required good military planning. She looked at her 'son' in puzzlement, for in games of war he almost always left the other boys in the dust.
"Actually, I didn't play. They wouldn't let me. I'm an outcast. And I always will be." Steel's eyes bored into Sara's. His precociousness was not borne of innocence, and it frightened her.
Suddenly, a thundering knock sounded at the door. It was now about 11 p.m.
" Whoever could that be?" Sara looked at the door in astonishment, and not a little fear. Steel turned and grabbed his dragon-headed dirk. It had been one of the gifts Kitiara had sent. She had promised to send money for Sara, and gifts for Steel, and she had kept her promise till the start of the war, when she had had more pressing matters on her mind. The gifts had all been warlike in nature. Steel adored them. As Kitiara had guessed, he was a born warrior.
As the door was flung open, all but torn off the hinges, Steel took up a fighting stance in front of Sara, still having the presence of mind to protect her when most other children his age would have gone screaming to their mommies, something Steel realized with a grim smile.
A dark figure stood framed in the doorway.
"You, boy, are you Steel uth Matar?" The scepter-like personage had a deep voice and the tone of one used to being obeyed.
"And if I am?"
"Meaning you are." The man replied curly. He had obviously dealt with defiant natures before and knew how to handle them. "I am Ariakan," the man continued. Sara gasped. This man was the son of Ariakas, a DragonLord, and Zeboim, goddess of the sea. He had been captured by the Solamnic knights during the war, but since they had been so impressed with his courage that they treated him with every respect. After the war ended, Paladine's knights had let him go, thinking that in these times of peace, he could do no harm.
They were wrong.
Not long after Ariakan was released, Takhisis, goddess of evil, came to him in the form of Dark Warrior, and ordered him to start a knighthood dedicated to her as the Solamnic knighthood was dedicated to Paladine.
"Those who are now boys will grow up in my service. You will raise them to worship me. I will own them, body and soul. When they are men they will prepared to give their lives in my cause."
Almost immediately, Ariakan had begun recruiting boys for the unholy army. It was kept an absolute secret. The only reason Sara knew of it was that her friend's son was taken. She had been sworn to secrecy.
Steel seemed drawn to Ariakan. "How did you know I was here?"
"That matter naught. What matters is that Takhisis commanded me to start a knighthood dedicated to her. You have been recommended."
Sara gave a muffled sound halfway between a sob and a gasp and stuffed her tightly clenched fist in her mouth.
"Listen to me, Steel." Araikan's blue eyes looked into the eyes of a young boy, a boy who had black, curling hair that tumbled over his shoulders and framed a face that was already handsome, a face that was strong and well proportioned, the brown yes large, dark and intense. He was dressed in a plain light gray tunic, with leggings of a darker shade underneath. Steel's favorite color was gray, Kitiara forbidding it be anything lighter and Sturm, his unknown father, pleading that it not be anything darker.
Araikan continued, "I offer you hard work, brutal toil, a harsh life with little ease, no comfort. You will gain no personal wealth. The most you can ever hope to earn will be the respect of your comrades-in-arms. You will forego the love of family and friends. Taking their place will be battle, glory, honor. Do you accept these terms, young Steel?"
"NO!!!" Sara struggled to get to the boy she loved more than life itself. Alas, the man who restrained her held her tightly, too tightly.
A battle raged within Steel uth Matar BrightBlade. Sara saw with horror the fight between haloed light and unholy darkness.
"I Do Accept, My Lord…"
Not the End*
*To see the fate of Steel BrightBlade and if he ever finds out whom his father is, read Dragons of Summer Flame, by Margaret Wies and Tracey Hickman.