Chapter One

Tumultuous was what his mother had called the high court. She quickly added several other word, not so kind in nature, whenever the topic came about. Now that he stood in the same halls decades since her visit, he could only agree. He would add pompous, cruel and stuffy as well, however such words would have to be kept to themselves.

His trip had taken the better part of a month, yet a summons could not be ignored. It was never a matter of time, simply a matter of drop everything and come. When the Ministry’s High Priest issues a summons, it is against the law for anyone to impede your journey. It struck him odd that even thieves honored this, when no other law even gave them pause. How his mother cried when she saw it, even before it was opened. His father dropped his head as it was opened. They had all known it was only a matter of time before such a summons would arrive.

When Joile had passed his eighth year, he set fire to a tree by merely touching it. No one else was around to see it as it happened, but everyone saw the charred tree. Mother had made father cut it down, but the word was already out. Family friends, neighbors and even members of their family quickly distanced themselves. What few friends he had no longer met him in the orchards to play and tease the workers. When they walked through the market, a clear path was always before him, causing Joile only to wish he could be invisible. Each time his magic manifested itself beyond control, he would curl up and cry until he was asleep.

After the first few months of it, Joile began to grow tired of himself and his retreating. He spent hours at the lakes edge trying to focus and understand what was happening. It was then, at the peace of sunset, he first raised his head to the sky and began to sing. Joile’s voice boomed and began to intertwine with the very air, then the water and finally everything around him.

Clarity filled his mind and for several moments he felt peace. It was the faint heartbeat that drew his attention across the water where a fox, hidden by the overgrowth dipped its snout into the water and began to drink Joile felt the fox’s refreshment and alertness as the water spilled over its tongue into its throat. The fox had been leary of several other creatures it sniffed in the air. In shock, Joile stopped his song with his eyes wide and surprised. The air around him condensed and thunderstruck him to the ground. Joile had not been sure just how long he was left along the lake, but when he awakened the moon was high above him.

In panic he ran all the way home, humming to himself. As he approached the house, he could feel his mother and his father. They were both sad, but yet releaved, he could sense it about them. Joile did not announce his arrival, but rather stayed outside their home and hummed louder as he focused on their thoughts. They had thought he was dead or taken. Even though this saddened them terribly, they were relieved. Relieved his curse would no longer alter their lives. Tears poured down his face as the impact of the thoughts began to wear him down. Everything immediately felt heavy and foreign. Joile wanted to run, to be free of all of what he felt. But deeper there was a want to know more, to see more and explore what he could do. He realized now it was his humming or singing that opened up and gave life to his magic. Joile knew he was humming loud enough they should have heard him, but yet they never responded.

The orchard. He could find peace there as the lake didn’t offer him enough cover for the night. Entering the grove, he plucked a pear from the first tree, which was his favorite. Biting in deeply, he felt some of the juice dribble onto his chin. The fruit had the taste of sweetness that only caused his stomach to gumble lightly. Walking further in, the emotions of his parents began to swim through his mind. While the hurt was still there, anger began to well. He did not ask for this. He did not do it to anyone. Joile was content with his life to be an orchard keeper like his father and family had always been. He loved the open spaces that felt so inviting to him over the bustling of city. Each time they visited the market in Tabath he only wanted to return to the grove and be among the trees. So why would his parents feel this way about him. Was it not their fault, did he not somehow get this from them? How dare they wish for his death!

His anger continued to swell and began to cloud his vision. Standing in the center of the grove, his hands outstretched and clenched, eyes wide and blind in fury, Joile screamed. His humming stopped abruptly. The compression in the air lifted him from the ground only a inch or so, but he felt the world drop beneath him. He saw once again, but it was from above his own body, looking down onto himself and the orchard. The pain and anger rushed through him as he suddenly screamed into the night. As he did, he felt his feet back on the ground and realized the earth was trembling. In horror he looked around him and saw the blackness of the grass and the trees. The entire orchard was charred and destroyed. Joile didn’t wan’t to believe it was him, but he knew it was.

Losing one of the orchards caused his father to beat him terribly the next day. Joile had said nothing when he arrived home, nothing when the orchard was discovered and nothing while he was being beaten. Within a week the summons had arrived, and still Joile said nothing as his father handed it to him in silence and his mother began to cry.

Let them morn and let them suffer, Joile thought as he gathered his things. They had wanted to be rid of him, he had felt it, and now they would be. He would past Tabath to Val Dorin, to the High Court and answer the summons of the High Priest. Everyone knew it was a death sentence; and he now welcomed it. No one ever returned from a summons and there was little doubt he would either. There was no point in running, the Ministry always found those that did and hung them or gutted them in public. No it was an old law to not disobey the Ministry under such penalties. But again he welcomed death to end the burning pit in his heart he felt since that moment outside his home. Joile knew it was that pit that destroyed the orchard. It was the reasons and many more he couldn’t voice that he didn’t hum or sing on his journey. It was the reason he would not run.

When he arrived, he simply showed his summons and was escorted quietly and quickly to an inn. But unlike regular inn’s like the ones they stayed in at Tabath, this was made or solid stone buffed smooth. The rooms were larger, yet devoid of comfort completely. Even the bed was of solid stone. Two meals were delivered, without conversation or eye contact. There was no light for him as evening approached. It was then he realized, he was in a cell. It was the way all the stones were placed together. He could hear no sounds beyond the room and highly doubted they could hear him.

They came for him the next day, three guards he still spoke nothing. Joile found he really had nothing to say anyway and was still appreciative of the silence. Across the walkway the massive front doors of the high court was decorated in intricate symbols and styles. He could feel something radiating from it and it almost felt familiar. As the doors opened, the wash of sound caused him to stagger backwards. The heavy hands of the guards gripped him tightly and continued their escort. The disposed of him in a stone chair, like the bed at the inn, and simply told him to remain until called. Joile didn’t care. After taking a few moments looking around him, he simply dropped his head and tried to listen to all that was happening. His mother had been correct. The hundreds of sounds meshing in chaos were best described in that simple word; tumultuous.

“Joile summoned from the village of Noj outside Tabath!” A woman’s voice called out. It pierced through the clammering and discussions like an arrow. Immediately his eyes found hers and he stood.

As Joile walked to her, the crowd did not move and did not even seem to notice him. He was suddenly comfortable and he was bumped to and fro amongst the crowd, ignorant of everything else around him, except the woman who called his name. Once he had cleared the main crowd, he saw the long table that held the Ministry Priests. Now Joile felt the discomfort of scrutiny as each of their eyes locked to his. Each step became heavier and almost a struggle. He wanted to release his voice as the fear inside him continued to well. A part of him screamed, another cried and then another gave way to anger. It was the anger that pushed Joile through and gave strength to his steps. It was the anger that made him focus in on the eyes of the High Priest.

“Joile you are charged with the use of magic not authorized by the Ministry. Of this action you are guilty.” The woman announced partially facing Joile and the panel of priests. “Do you deny any of this?”

Joile simply shook his head no, yet kept his eyes on the High Priest who returned the stare.

“We know you have a voice boy, is there a reason you do not use it?” The High Priest questioned. “You will find we are quite safe from your voice.” The man almost had a chuckle as he spoke.

Joile tried to answer only to find his voice didn’t come. Almost in a panic, he cleared his throat. Hearing only a squeak of his voice, he addressed the High Priest. “I do not deny what I have done. I am prepared to accept death for it.” He stated quickly.

“Death is something that comes to all of us, there is no need to rush it.” The High Priest began, “Today you will learn the lesson you should have already been taught. Not everything you hear is fact, listen more to what they don’t say. If death finds you, it will not be upon our shoulders of responsibility. As you have proven, you cannot be left to your own. You must be trained. Training however requires commitment. That is the question that is put to you. Are you willing to be tested and trained?”

“Will you let me be stronger?” Joile questioned.

“You will be as strong as you allow yourself to be and how much power your magic has.” The reply was curt.

“But magic isn’t allowed?” Joile answered, but he already knew what he wanted. To learn more of his magic and become more powerful so they would never be set aside again. He could be important and he would never have to be alone and ashamed.

“Yes, magic that has not been trained or used in the service of the Ministry is indeed illegal. But what you are allowed to do in our halls and in our service is a completely different matter.” The High Priest explained. “You will be taken into our Ministry. But you must abide by our laws. Can you this Joile? Can you make this commitment?”

“I can!” Joile smiled broadly.

“You are dismissed.” The High Priest announced and then rose to leave. With a simple guesture, he commanded the others to follow. Many would not notice it, but Joile did and he knew it was about him. He saw it in the eyes of the High Priest as well as he saw a bit of shock in the eyes of the others. This was were he belonged, Joile felt with all of him as he realized his anger was gone.

***

“Did you all not see it? That child is a Kunelli. Could you not see the fire in his eyes!” The High Priest exclaimed. “To see one after all this time.”

“Lord Seom, please forgive me, but can you be so sure?” One of the other priests asked him almost timidly.

“This is why I am the High Priest. I am of the direct blood. I know my kin of every sect. The brown hair, the silvery blue eyes, the attractive nose and slender features all of them scream his heritage. And he was born of magic. Not just any magic, but the art of song, the art of Jolo! When was the last one recorded? Two hundred years ago? Wisked away by the Timewalker for training.”

“My lord forgive me, but he should be destroyed.” Another priest added. This child Joile was not born within one of the great houses, but rather an outside of a house long gone from our ways. The Goddess would not approve.”

“To the shadows with you! Rhiya herself is who granted such magic to my families, what would you know of it beyond your books? This is a gift to us. The ability to restore a great line of our Goddesses children. By training him, we could re-establish the Kunelli and broaden Rhiya’s great realm.” High Priest Seom began to look off.

“As only you would now Lord Seom.” The priest retreated his previous statement. “Shall I send summons of the families?”

“Tread not on a thin ice priest. You attempt to remind me of duties you are only partially aware of and shall never obtain.” Seom looked to the priest with a calm yet sinister gaze that could melt any man. “Shall I ever find you attempt to usurp my authority, I will destroy you and all your kin myself. You will watch me destroy them and then beg me to destroy you.”

The priest grimaced and then stood tall. “You would doubt my loyalty?”

Fire seemed to flex in the eyes of Seom as the air in the room compressed. As a lightning strike he reached out and grabbed the priest by the neck, Seom’s hand glowing an eerie blue. The smell of burning flesh began to ooze throughout the room. The priest struggled in his grasp, his eyes bugging forward in obvious pain. While his mouth opened, nothing escaped but a gurgle.

“I don’t count on and thus don’t worry about your loyalty. It is your ambition I give you a final warning on. Act such again and it is not only your neck you shall feel anguish. I will make good my promise and your sister will be the first to die in agony.” He released the priest with horrid disregard, watching as the priest fell to the floor in a heap, weaping lightly. None of the other priests moved to help him, all keeping their eyes on the High Priest.

“Have my page prepare my things, I will be leaving with this child the morrows first light. Whatever he has, destroy it. See to it he is bathed and then dress him in Kunelli colors yet say nothing to him.” Seom ordered.

“My lord, do you wish him to remain in the wizards cell?” Another priest inquired.

High Priest Seom looked thoughtful. “No. Have him stay in one of my rooms for the evening. Assign him a page.”

“Shall I have him announced?” The priest questioned again.

“By the Goddess no!” Seom glared to the man. “He is to be known as my guest only. He does not have free reign to wonder. Simply let him be comfortable. We do not wish for him to let lose his power, so see to his comfort.”

“Yes m’lord.” The priest bowed his head. “What of the others?”

“We have no use of them, the broke the law. Kill them all and post they have been sent for training. We cannot have magic running wild. The Goddess does not wish it so. You are all dismissed, leave me.”

As they scurried out of the room, Seom smiled from ear to ear. The other families would see the value of this child. A restoration of the Kunelli would bolster their family and cause some of the lesser houses to end petty squabbles and rejoin the brood. For this Rhiya would reward him and he would be as great as the first Seom.

***

“I am going with the High Priest?” Joile questioned excitedly.

“Yes child. This is your page Grevin. He will get you what you require. For now, you must come with me to the High Priests house bath and wear the proper clothing. Nothing you have will you need to bring, just yourself. You are not a farmers child. You are a student of the High Priest and to be an anointed student of Rhiya.”

“The Goddess is real?” His eyes widened with wonderment. “I thought it was just a story?”

“Goddess Rhiya is the mother of all of us. If she did not exist neither would we. But unlike her brother Xhuri, she is an active part of our lives and we commune with her daily.” Come now, you must be prepared for your evening meal and there is much about you to wash.”

“I can wash myself!” Joile cried out.

“As your current smell would sugguest.” The priest laughed. “You must keep yourself clean and allow those that will never know the grace of your power to at least touch you. That is as close as they will ever be. No more questions child, do as I say, we do not have much time. After your meal, you must immediately retire for you leave on tomorrows first light.”

“My schooling will begin that quickly?” The boy questioned.

“Joile, your training has already begun.” The priest stated with a smile and hurried the boy out of the door. “Not in hundreds of years have we had a student like you. May the Goddess grant you peace.”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Joile questioned.

“Because all those with power, very few are chosen. Those that aren’t chosen die as they are consumed by their magic.”

“Death will find no fear in me.”

“You have yet to see the power of magic, tho it has been all around you. His grace the High Priest contained your gift the entire time you were in that building, yet you did not know. There were no people beyond we priests and you in that room. And yet your saw dozens upon dozens of people and the noise must have been deafening.”

The priest laughed again as Joile turned to look at him, his eyes huge in their sockets. “Yes Joile that was magic. You were being tested the moment you entered the room. Already the High Priest knows what you want, what you love and what you fear. If could not, he could not be the High Priest Seom.”

Joile said nothing. He was frightened now. The High Priest would know he wanted to strike out against him. That he thought of destroying the room as he did the orchard. But still he was going with the High Priest for training, that had to be something. Joile once again desided to say nothing. Not even when it was time to leave with the High Priest, he would remain silent until such time as he was at his school. Quickly Joile was learning your thoughts could betray you and it was not something he was happy about.