Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or any of the places mentioned, all belong to the wonderful Tamora Pierce.
Here she stood once again staring down the large pair of grand ancient doors. There was no rational reason for why she should be here yet again. She had received no further instructions from the enigmatic god who was housed behind the iron entrance. She wasn't particularly fond of it either; quite frankly she had considered their relationship to be rather brusque. Still, something continually brought her here.
Hesitantly, she placed her hands upon the cold iron and felt a jolt of icy tremors down her spine.
You make an odd habit of visiting me.
She shrugged, "I have to see it again."
Dear protector, why is it that you give commands to me?
"I just figure that after all you have asked of me, I can ask a few things of you."
She of course could not see the god's face, but she could almost sense a smirk in response.
As you wish.
Her vision shifted and focused on a scene in front of her. Instantly she could taste the soot and the smoke that was choking the air around her. The ground beneath her feet was quivering from the exhaustion of supporting this horrific scene. The ground was littered with the bodies, some dead some still searching for an ounce of hope to stay alive. Stormwings were circling the area watching with the lust of hunger towards those who would not make it through the day.
A horse without its rider galloped frantically towards her with tangible fear. She leapt away from it quickly only to notice that it had a deep wound on the side of its back left leg. Kel moved to try to take control of the desperate animal but was forced to the ground as it reared up in agitation. She swiftly rolled away so to avoid being crushed by its hooves.
She hastily stood up and tried to find clarity through the chaos around her. Her natural calm was trying to stifle the tension she felt, but the uncertainty of the situation was distressing. Of course, there was no reason to feel any real fear since none of what she was seeing was actually happening. It was merely a set of images the Chamber pushed into her mind. While rational thought reminded her of this, there was still a great unsettling sensation coursing through her stomach.
Her eyes suddenly caught sight of a group of children wielding weapons far too large for their youthful size. They were in the midst of the fighting and were actively participating in grueling combat. Despite being without any weapon to defend herself with, she ran to assist the poor children from the attacks of veteran soldiers. Yet suddenly she felt herself unable to move. Regardless of her efforts to step forward, her feet would not move.
The tall malicious men used their every force to bring down the young children, allowing for no remorse to course through their hearts, only the satisfaction of taking lives. As each child fell Kel felt a tear in her chest, a sensation that felt as though something within her was being torn apart and ripped away. The only movement that was allowed was the tears falling down her cheeks. What kind of world did they live in that allowed for children to be slain without compunction?
Slowly, the scene before her began to shift and her ability to move returned. The soot in the air dissipated and a stale chill engulfed her. Whereas the prior scene is filled with chaos, this felt stagnant; there was no breeze among the trees, so whistles from birds, no shifting in the grass. Nothing. She turned around and came face to face with a series of statuesque stones standing together united by their commonality of preserving the dead.
She peered down at the first tomb's inscription to find that it contained the remains of Nealan of Queenscove, beloved friend, husband and father; a man who to could heal all wounds except for the one that kidnapped his own existence. She began to read the names of the stones down the morbid row. Domitan of Masbolle, Raoul of Goldenlake, Buiriram Tourakom, Wyldon of Cavall, Merric of Hollyrose, Seaver of Tasride, Owen of Jesslaw, Lerant of Eldorne, Tobeis Boone. The names went on, causing the despair in her chest to drown out any hopes of optimism.
"Oh Keladry, didn't you know that this would be your fate?"
That voice.
"I did try to warn you, did I not?" he goaded, "Oh but I did. And you were adamant in your refusal to listen. Isn't that true?"
That blond hair, those malign blue eyes.
He smiled mockingly, "I told you that you would find yourself all alone with no one to share a life with. Although, I do believe you interpreted my words and thought I spoke of your romantic life. Well, of course that too was never meant to amount to much. However, what I did mean was that one day, that day being today, you would find yourself surrounded not by the support of your friends, but by the tombs embracing their death."
He walked up to her and placed his cold, grey fingers upon her head and began to run his fingers through her hair and, almost tenderly, pushing a wandering strand behind her ear.
"You see Keladry, I knew that the progressives would make you a commander, I knew that they would foolishly give you the power of authority over armies. With that knowledge, I also knew that one by one, you would ultimately lead every one of your pitifully sanguine friends into the arms of a blunt sword, killing every last one of them."
Kel began to shake her head, trying to move away from him, trying to reach back into the reality she knew was not in this place. He stopped her by firmly grasping her shoulders between his hands.
"Look at their graves, Keladry, look at how you placed good, strong men into the hands of the Black God before they could become heroes."
When she refused to look at the tombs he grasped her chin and forced her to acknowledge the rows of tomb stones, holding the bodies of great soldiers. Melancholy pugnaciously punched its way into her gut, throwing all sensibility away.
It was not death that gripped her in fear, for as a knight death was an accepted possibility. At the age of ten she had been willing to sacrifice her life for the lives of her countrymen, that disposition held strong in heart now. However, there was the daunting realization that by gaining authority she would no longer be solely responsible for her life but for the lives of many others.
"Yes. You have done this. By refusing to accept your inferiority and subjecting others to your incompetence you are responsible for the deaths of each and every one of the corpses rotting beneath your feet."
He shook his head in mock-melancholy. "Oh Keladry, I tried to warn you. I did," He smiled at her sympathetically, "You just wouldn't listen."
Her vision was clouded by the mayhem of tears billowing from her eyes. The scene before her began to shift until she found herself back in front of the great iron doors.
Her body faltered backwards as her mind shifted back into reality and away from the turmoil shown through the visions of the Chamber. Strong hands grasped her form until she was steady on her feet and her eyes could see clearly.
When she looked up, her dejected eyes met with the concern of her Knight Master's black eyes.
"Kel, I find it worrisome that I still find you here even after the defeat of Blayce."
She quickly fitted her mask onto her face to conceal and unrest that remained in her mind. With a casual shrug she replied, "I just want to make sure that we're squared out. I don't want to be on the road only to get a surprise message sent by the Chamber."
The older knight tilted his head, "So you've come here to ensure that you will no longer be involved in any more of those trysts you like? The ones that just so happen to conflict with the King's authority?"
She smiled, "Exactly."
He smiled too, almost coyly, "Oh, Kel. I have known you long enough to know when you are telling the truth and when you are hiding behind that mask of yours."
She shook her head, "What do you mean sir-"
"I mean, ex-squire, that I have noticed that you have picked up a few odd habits since your disobedient rendezvous into enemy territory. One of which is coming down to this ghastly place. Tell me Kel, what are you doing here?"
She began to shrug.
"Do not give me any excuses about getting on top of your knightly duties. I have put too much time and too much work into you to just have you throw it away by allowing this place to consume you. You are a strong knight, and an even stronger commander. Those two skills do not just get handed out to people left and right. You are not allowed to throw that away." He stood up straighter, "As a matter of fact, I am ordering you reflect upon those skills and to forfeit your crusade in terrorizing your mind."
Kel stared down at her feet, trying to find an answer that would convince him to leave her alone. Her silence only caused his concern to amplify.
With a firm hand, he tilted her chin up so that they were eye to eye. "Kel, it is unlike you to wallow."
She shook her head, "I'm not wallowing."
"Then what are you doing?"
She frowned, "I'm trying to teach myself something."
He furrowed his brows, "What could the Chamber be teaching you? Certainly anything you want to learn you can find answers to somewhere else."
"No, this is the only way."
"What are you looking for?"
The words were difficult for her to find, "I'm trying to teach myself to stop fearing death."
Raoul looked baffled and sputtered for a few moments trying to find something to sooth the younger knight's worries. "Kel, while there are many good things that come with this job; however, great responsibility also means that there can be difficult repercussions. It is true that being a knight is dangerous and that we often put ourselves in scenarios that may bring us to our demise, but that is because we place our care for others above our own well-being."
Kel stared at him confused, "No- that isn't what I meant. I'm not afraid of my own death."
Raoul waited for her to continue.
She sighed, "From the age of ten, I have been trained to fight against any foe who may try to bring harm to this realm and I have dedicated myself to that cause. I have learned to wield weapons, how to navigate in unknown territories, I've become skilled in combat, and I was taught how to kill one enemy after the other. I know war, I understand war. But while I was climbing up trees, jousting, and defeating enemies I never thought about what comes after war. I never realized that survival means much more than have a pulse. I never realized that the death of others would make survival so wearisome."
Raoul's eyes began to focus into understanding. "But what do you think the Chamber can do for you?"
She frowned slightly, "When we train for knighthood we test ourselves through physical practice. I come to the Chamber to do the same, only I hope that through images I can become desensitized to losing the people I care about. If I can do that, then I can become more focused on the actual fighting and not my own personal emotions. This is the only solution I could think of to fix this."
Raoul sighed and pulled his ex-squire into his arms in a brief, yet suffocating embrace. Pulling away he looked Kel in the eye, "Kel, there is nothing in this world that can cure the grief of losing someone we care about. If there was, people would stop having a reason to fight against tyrannies and unjust governments. You fight because you care. If that was taken away from you, you would cease to be the knight that you are, the knight who is capable of great things. With your caring demeanor and excellent combat skills, I imagine that you will save many more lives than you would if you shut down that part of you that is emotionally driven."
Kel gave him a small smile but was not completely appeased . "Sir, how do you manage it? After all of these years?"
Raoul shook his head, "I wish I had an answer for you, Kel. The truth of the matter is that death is not something I have ever learned to truly come to terms with. It is a part of knighthood that I don't imagine I will ever completely understand or get over. There is no peace for the survivors of war for they know how easy it is to remove life from a person's being. To this day, I cannot understand why it is so easy. But that my dear, is the burden we have chosen to bear."
"Do you ever regret it?" she whispered.
His eyes glazed over for a moment, receding back into troubling memories, "There have been times, moments when my own errors have resulted in the loss of lives. I would be a hypocrite if I told you that regrets regress over time, because the truth is I have never been able to fully forgive myself for those errors. But, just as you learn to live with old scars and injuries, you will also learn to continue on despite the emotional chaos."
Kel nodded, complacent with his answer. Raoul grinned and tugged at a lock of her hair, "Now, enough of this forlorn chatter, I believe that you have been neglecting your jousting skills. I'd say that it was high time for me to remind you how to stay in that saddle."
She laughed, "I would not object to a few rounds. It was been quite some time since my last flying lesson."
Raoul chuckled in response. However, just as they were exiting the room he stopped her from proceeding with his hand on her shoulder, "One more thing Kel, the next time you feel the urge to come to this place I would be happy if you came to me instead. The Chamber may be able to provide you with images on the morose side, but it cannot give you the advice that can only be given through experience. You may no longer be my squire, but I am still betting on you and I have every intention of seeing you accomplish great things."
Kel felt a rush of affection flow over her. She smiled and hugged the giant man and whispered, "Thank you."
When they separated his mischievous smile returned, "I'll have you know, however, that while I'm betting on you I still expect to beat you at every round of jousting this afternoon."
As the two left, their laughter bounced off the walls and against the great iron doors. There will be loss and there will be sorrow, but so long as the company we keep remains resilient the potential for the return of happiness and laughter is more assured.