A/n: Again I must grovel to the feet of the wonderful Tamora Pierce, for her characters are among the most entertaining I've ever read. They do belong to her, as my characters belong to me. Please remember this. Also, I can't get my italics to work, so everything in a is a thought by Torin. Thanks fore reading and please review
. . Chapter One . .
. Reality .
A pair of emerald eyes fixed longingly upon the bindings of the myriad of magic books placed behind the locked glass cabinet. The boy's father always denied the presence of the material, claiming that they were just a fantasy to his son's eyes. Even if they were just the lad's mind playing games with his feelings, it explained much of his inner self. The boy was different; this was something that no one could deny. Even the Lord of Kartok manor was in deep distress, the problems with his eleven-year-old son were bringing creases to the middle-aged man's eyes. The horrible reality that was the boy's life was becoming all to present. Fight as he did, his son was living the Prophecy told, one which could lead to a brutal war, one felt throughout every soul present on this world. The same telling, if fulfilled with well intensions, could heal the realms of chaos, for more than a thousand years.
Though the boy had no idea of his true life, for the vile reality was kept secret to avoid pain, the young Master was beginning to question. These present nightmares had happened more than once, and were too reoccurring to be considered 'normal'. He'd heard tales of wandering mages of visions often dreamt by those with a troubled mind, he only had to fuse two and two together. The lad had a sense, something that empowered these visions to become more vivid and painstaking each time they came to him. The same woman, crying to him, thanking him once she surrounded herself in jade tinted flames, was too familiar. He'd seen paintings; the locket his father cried into every night while he was convinced his young son was asleep contained a painting of a woman. Her face was soft, well shaped as if a brilliant sculptor had accomplished his masterpiece upon her features. Her eyes were dark in his dreams however, this was the only difference he could find between the painting from the locket; her eyes were a soft golden, rimmed with green. He'd stared at the locket painting for hours on night; his father had fallen asleep at his desk, crying once more. This was his mother it had to have been. However, there was one thing about the painting that had to have been wrong, not only were her eyes an odd golden, her pupils were not round; they were vertical.
- - - - - - - - -
"Father, what is the matter?" the young Torin's voice was so innocent that it took every ounce of strength to answer the question. The painstaking task was ripping the Lord's heart apart.
"Torin, we – we need to discuss something of great importance," the man's forehead has been creased for the past month; the talk was only making the pain worse. "You need to listen and respond with what you believe. Is this understood?"
His brown eyes were heavy from nights without sleep, the lad knew it was of him; his vision filled nights were hurting the entire manor. "Yes father, I understand." Inhaling deeply Torin had begun to prepare himself for the truth, these senses were screaming in his head for him to ready himself; the pain was ignored.
"Torin, you – you need to go away for awhile. I cannot help this anymore than you can," his eyes were clouding over with tears unshed, the task was too arduous for his body, but it must be done. "Don't think this is because of you Tor, you must follow the path you've been shown."
Thoughts were pounding in Torin's mind, crashing as mad tidal wave upon the rocks. It was unbearable for such a young mind; his head was throbbing with agonizing pain. "I. Father I don't want to leave you." Pain was making speech so demanding that his words were slurred. The furious beating of waves was turning into a mass of fists pounding inside. "I don't want to leave Carthak, I – I don't want to go to Tortall," his voice was shaking to a mere whisper.
"Torin please don't argue," the man's own eyes were closed; the horror upon his son's face was unbearable. He knew, the boy already knew that he would be leaving Carthak without him even saying. "How did you know?" there were pauses between his words; the boy was becoming too powerful to be here.
Voices were fading in and out of his hearing, his eyes were forced open; more visions. They weren't coming in his sleep; they were now invading the only semi-pleasant time of his day. The rooms were burning, but everyone was going among their business as if nothing had changed. Horror stricken, he attempted the ever-hardening task of speech, "Know what father?" His father's face was being licked with crimson fire; the feeling was enough to nauseate him to the core. "I don't want to leave."
Within the next minute the boy was limp in his father's arms, his words echoing throughout the dormant manor. "It's the only way Tor, I'm so sorry son," tears were falling from the older man's face; his own son was becoming something he couldn't handle. His only living family was going to be sent away from him, forever. "I'm so sorry son," the only words that would leave his lips, the boy's head was laying there in his lap, the helpless son who he could never see again.
- - - - - - - -
"He hates me. He – he made me leave," emerald eyes gazed slowly out of the massive ship's porthole; he was confined to the inner-levels of the ship for reasons unknown. The water lapping at the wooden planks was no comfort whatsoever; he was leaving his home, his family. That's the worst sound in the world. The noise of slapping sea would act as a painful reminder of this day. "I can't believe he made me leave."
"Now Master Torin," the husky voice was attempting comfort in its words, "you know he did it for your sake. You haven't had any nightmares since our departure." The elder nurse was ordered to take her young master overseas to the kingdom dubbed Tortall. This was unfamiliar to both, and thus the boy's father found it suitable for her to accompany the lad. Truth being told the woman was working herself into a fright, the land had been on the bad side of the Carthak empire for the past while, only with the recent destruction of the once Emperor Orzone, was peace promised between the two. "I'm sure this land will suit you better."
"Randih please stop making me feel better, it's not working the least bit." Those jade hued eyes turned to stare briefly at the woman before turning to gaze outside of the small window. I won't like it. This place hated us; I might as well say the feeling is mutual The vile taste the name 'Tortall' left within his mouth was one to draw up his breakfast earlier that morning; he hated that place. No question.
"Nearing Port Legann." The booming voice was from above was that of the ship's captain. The man briefly nodded his head to the young master before closing the door and returning into the light above.
"Good, the faster I can get off the blasted ship the better." The female nurse was cursing beneath her breath as her hands began the task of putting away her books and quilt. "The Hag only knows what's died in here."
It was true, the below decks smelt of some assortment of potatoes and flesh, Torin knew however that the rats had found the discarded carcass that Cook had left in the kitchen. How he knew his however, remained a mystery to him. "I'd rather be sailing back to Carthak." The view outside was plain, except for the sudden horizon drawing closer, it was sea as far as the eye could see. A sudden flash made Torin blink rapidly, his head whipped about to see is Randih had seen the same; the made sat, snoozing silently in her chair. Turning about to better view the scenes outside, greens focus in a way he'd never experienced; the small mirror beside him showed his pupils thinning to a mere vertical slit. "Whoa.." his tone was one of surprise and wonder, glancing back towards the porthole, the whole horizon seemed to be beside the boat; but a second glance showed it still loomed of in the distance. What is happening?
- - - - - - -
"The ship is late Kale – where's the ship?" the impatient tone from the younger man was growing on his partner. "We need to get a hold of that boy. Do you not understand the importance this young lad plays in our plans?"
" Ye – yes I understand your Grace. I understand completely." The shorter man was shirking closer to his horse's withers' completely in fear for his life. His master was one never to be questioned; one to be obeyed at all costs. The invisible chain about his neck tightened, making the man said to be Kale gasp for air.
"Do not tempt me Kale. I feel that are useless to me, and therefore I could kill you now. You know that right?" atop the large bay stallion, the Grace continued staring into the distance, his golden eyes unwavering as they watch the Emerald Ocean. "So do not play like an idiot any longer. My patience for you is growing thinner than a Stormwing's feather edge." The boy was definitely the key to everything. He was in dire need of the lad; if he failed in his task, worlds would collide.
- - - - - -
The door was opened to the deck bellow, the boy gently pushing the sleeping nurse who awoke with a start, "I'm sorry Lord Kartok, I didn't hear his screams.." her eyes opened wide, realizing that she was being started at by three men and her young master; crimson racing to hold her cheeks.
"May I be the first to welcome you to Tortall young Master Torin!" the voice of the man was cheerful and full of energy, something lacking in Torin at the moment being. "May I introduce myself and my companion; I am Lord Hannle of Gander, my partner is Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak. He's the commander of the Kings Own!" the bubbly man was growing on the very last of Torin's nerves; however he continued a blank stare as the man introduced himself and his traveling partner. Looking rather disappointed Lord Hannle continued, "Well then! Shall we head for Corus?" clapping his hands together the man ushered the travelers outside of the ship, the pair covering their eyes from the sudden blast of light; Torin's pupils threatened to change towards vertical lines, but the passage over had allowed time for him to master the art of remaining 'normal'.
The Port was a large on indeed, much grander than that of Carthak's ports, but not as luxurious. It was said that a great deal of the Immortal War was fought at and around this port; many repairs were still being made as the pair arrived. "This way, this way." Lord Hannle was pushing Torin along as Raoul stood back to examine the lad. Randih was not far behind carrying her bag as if it was her own child; she was frightened.
Beyond the port was a wide spreading land, hilly in areas but all together rather lovely. This Torin could not deny, and he heard a sudden intake of breath from his nurse-maid. She'll fit in just fine A few vendors were packing their items into large carts as the four passed; quills, necklaces, and exotic books were just a few of the items viewed during their walk out of the town. "We have brought extra horses for you and your servant woman, assuming you know how to ride that is." Lord Hannle stumbled for words before giving a glance to the young Torin; who remained rather set on staring at the ground instead of answering questions. "Right then," seeming to loose confidence in the conversation led the way towards a large group of riders and horses. "May I introduce the fourth company of the Kings Own!" a wave of his hand meant the large group of men all were under the command of Lord Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak. Interesting.
- - - - - -
The ride from Port Legann to the capital city of Corus was at least three days at the pace the company chose. Though few complained at the slow pace, Torin himself wished to ride quicker and find out more about this Tortall. This place was utterly confusing to him as the rode through. On the Third and final day, the large band crested a large bluff, and there at the bottom lay Corus; a magnificent city, gleaming with all its glory as it beamed in the fading sunlight.
"Simply stunning," was commented, more to himself than to the crowd.
" Welcome to Tortall." The burly knight commander had rode up beside, his dark gelding prancing briefly at the sight of home, and food no doubt. His face was set in a friendly smile, his head offered a bent in greeting. "I should have talked to you before hand, I promise I'm not as intimidating as I look." The man winked clearly at the younger green-eyed boy; then rode off before Torin had any word of say.
I could get to like him "Thanks." Was muttered in a soft reply. The knight turned as if to say something in return, but thought better and continued his ride forward. Welcome indeed.