<Though I remember writing this a few years ago, I can't remember if I have ever posted it here (I couldn't find it on the boards), so I took it out, dusted it off, picked at it a little, and here it is, another snippet of Radeeks life experiences. This event happened after the war with Talador and soon after the healing of Phever by the Tehir bloodmage Teuriz. My apologies if it was posted before and I missed it, I hate re-runs.
I traveled for what seemed an eternity, though it was nowhere close to that; I suppose my excitement contributed to the feeling, that and my fear of what was to come. It was a much more difficult journey this time around, perhaps because I'm older than I was the first time.
I have to admit though, I missed it; the heat, the sun, the Singing Sands… all of it. To me there will never be anything to compare to The Sea of Fire, and it was worth the trip for that alone. But I did not go there for only those reasons. I went there to learn; once again, I put my faith in my people, and once again, I am indebted to them.
Travelling in the Sea of Fire poses risks to life and limb for even those born to it and trained to survive there. I am grateful for the training I received as a young man, even though much of it was difficult and sometimes even quite painful; it allows me to call the Sea of Fire home, rather than Hell, as those fearful of it or unfamiliar with it tend to do.
As I stated, I did not go to see the sights; I went to learn, from the best that I knew of. I searched for a Mir'Sheq clan for one purpose…I wanted to learn how to see, how to understand what I saw, and to learn to hear the wind, as Teuriz told me to do.
One evening, shortly before sundown, I found what I was looking for, a sizable clan of Mir'Sheq Tehir. I announced my presence and waited for their Raiders to respond. My hands were empty, palms facing them so they knew I concealed no weapons. I was also in my black ridgeweaver silk Raider clothing, knowing full well what Tehir thought of Black Raiders.
The Raiders approached, and they surrounded me, with caution of course; after all, I was a stranger and had been gone for many years. Their leader, a man of small stature but regal bearing, approached me; I neither spoke nor moved, knowing that my life depended on my actions and his interpretation of them.
The Raider leader spoke to me, in Tehir of course, asking my name and my reason for being there. I looked straight into his eyes and said "I am Radeek Andoran, chosen as Black Raider, adopted son and only child of the Raider Leader G'Arrone and his wife, the healer and herb mistress K'miza, of the Mir’Sheq of the Scarlet Selshis Clan, and only son of Q'atild Andoran, my birth-mother, she who was Tasig-heqi and First Seer among the Mir’Sheq of the Spirit Qahzumar Clan and who, like the rest of my people, died at the hands of Knights of the Empire many years ago."
"And I am here because of this," I state, as I slowly reach up with my right hand and remove my veil, exposing my scars, earned long ago through my Trials of Manhood.
"I bear the scars, numbering twenty and two," I announce. The Raider Leader studies my face and I see the recognition in his eyes, and the look of disbelief at what my scars mean to him. I am Tehir.
The other Raiders also know what my scars mean, I am one who has completed all twenty-two of the Trials, and I bear the scars to prove it. I can sense their growing interest in me, as can their leader. The Raider leader offers me a skin of water, which I accept and drink from, sparingly, in true Tehir fashion, and I return it to him. The offering of water is a traditional sign of peaceful greeting and, if not acceptance, then at least tolerance. It appears I will live to see another dawn.
I am escorted into their camp and shown to one of the larger tents. This is to be expected, unknown visitors are always brought before some sort of council, for formal introductions and questions. I am offered food and water, which I avail myself of. It's been a long while since I had good Tehir food. Pasha's in Solhaven could be called passable, in a pinch, but not nearly as delectable as what is available among the Tehir.
Soon the leaders enter the tent. I nod to each in greeting, waiting for them to speak; I do not have long to wait. I am once again asked my name, which I give along with my ties and titles. My scars are also once again inspected; this comes as no surprise, for it is very rare for anyone to complete all twenty-two of the trials.
The Seer of the Clan, an ancient woman clad in crimson named B'vaz, walks up to me and inspects my scars very closely. She runs her fingers over each, her touch light, and gentle, her eyes closed.
When she finishes tracing the line of each scar, she opens her eyes and it is then I realize she is quite blind; her eyes are milky white orbs, the pupils nearly invisible. However, even with her disability, this woman exudes power from her very core and she obviously is very well respected.
B'vaz turns her sightless gaze upon me and, in a voice much stronger than one would expect from her advanced years, states to me, "Radeek Andoran, son of the Seer Q'atild Andoran, you are welcome here. I have been expecting you for many years, Black Raider. I know what you seek and why you seek it, child of sand, blood, death, and shadow. What took you so long?"
I was surprised by her words. I was…expected? What took me so long? I had no answer to the Seer's words; she chuckles at my obvious confusion and says, "Son of Q'atild, you have spent too many years hiding in darkness from your calling and denying your birthright. It is time, now, to set the scales in balance." With that, she beckons to me and, turning, walks from the tent.
The others in the tent bow deeply and respectfully to me as they motion me to follow the aged Seer. I exit the tent and follow B'vaz to a small pool of water that is off to the side, away from the main pool of the oasis, all the Tehir who cross our paths stop and bow respectfully to me. I am exceedingly uncomfortable with this; I do not like to be bowed to… as I tell others who have bowed to me in the past, I am no knight of the Empire, expecting to be bowed to due to some self-perceived station in life.
Upon reaching the small pool B'vaz instructs me to disrobe and bathe in the pool, cleansing myself. She gives me directions to her tent and bids me to come there once I finish; she then leaves me to my cleansing ritual.
Darkness falls as I sit in the water, which is still quite warm from the day's sun, and I reflect for a moment on what has just happened to me. I have been welcomed by a strange clan of Tehir, a welcome that comes from a blind Seer who has evidently been expecting me for quite some time. So, what happens now? I suppose I'll find out soon enough.
I cleanse my body, using the root of a plant that the Tehir pound between two stones to extract the juices, which make a light lather and cleanses the skin rather well, leaving one feeling fresh and invigorated. I un-do my braid and wash my hair along with the rest of my body. After rinsing myself, I exit the pool, drying my body with some buttery soft skins that have evidently been placed close by for just such a purpose. I also re-braid my hair and bind it with the old bowstring I use for just this purpose.
I dress and make my way to the tent of the old Seer and once again, I am the object of much attention and bowing, which only adds to my discomfort and uneasiness. I try and ignore it as best as I can, but my heart is pounding in my chest and I have a queasy feeling in the depths of my stomach; I believe that very soon I will find out whether or not my quest has been in vain.
B'vaz is sitting cross-legged upon a woven mat on the floor of her tent as I announce myself and peer into the opening. She bids me to enter and sit across from her on another mat. As I do, she offers me tea, which I accept. I've never been a real fancier of tea, but I never minded some of the many herbal varieties found in Tehir encampments. However, I prefer their coffee, as it is second to none.
As we drink our tea in silence for a few minutes, I study the inside of her tent. There are a few low tables, each bearing different items, a bowl of dates and a traditional Tehir tea set on one, a worn old satchel heavily decorated with beads of bone and ivory is upon another. A third, near where she is seated is empty now.
A sleeping mat is laid out in one corner; numerous censures hang about the tent and the air is heavy with incense. Many herbs have been placed on drying racks specifically designed for the purpose.
Various objects, which I assume are used when she practices her art, are here and there; the skull of a rather large selshis, complete with fangs, various teeth and claws, some of which I recognize as belonging to the local fauna, others of which must have been traded for, and various stones and gems. There are numerous vessels, mostly made of hammered copper, in orderly groups on low shelves along one wall of the tent.
As I sip my tea, I find this particular blend has a familiar taste to it, but I can't seem to place it. I take another sip and contemplate this. Suddenly, as if a bolt of lightning from the sky, it dawns upon me…this is the same tea my mother used to drink! How could this be?
B'vaz begins chuckling, "How do you like the tea, Son of Q'atild?" she asks. I look at her, and her sightless eyes, eyes that are obviously not her only way of seeing, stare back at me. "How?" is my only reply. The old Seer places her cup down upon the low table nearest her and folds her hands in her lap, gazing at me with her sightless eyes. "I am going to tell you a tale Black Raider. Perhaps it will explain some things to you."
'Your mother," B'vaz begins, "was at one time my acolyte; she wore the azure veils under my tutelage. She came to me during her seventh summer, the youngest I have ever heard of to answer The Calling. Never before, and not since, had I accepted a female acolyte who had not yet become a woman, but the power flowing in her veins was evident from the moment I first met her."
I am fascinated and anxious for her to continue but I try hard to remain patient; she will tell me in her own time. "Q'atild was a remarkable child," B'vaz continues. "Her sight was already well established within her when she arrived, as is yours, and her blood held power that even I could not begin to appreciate at the time, as I believe yours may. She was a truly gifted girl; but, as with powerful gifts, there was a heavy price."
"Radeek, I trained your mother for nearly a decade, though in the end I was more student than teacher. Not long before her departure a caravan arrived, bearing goods from the Empire, the province of Hendor." B'vaz stops for a moment, retrieves her cup, and takes a sip of tea, collecting her thoughts.
"Among the people of this caravan was an Imperial knight. A tall, stately man, remarkably well built, strong and powerful, yet his eyes held a gentleness I had never before seen in a knight. Your mother noticed this as well; behind the azure veils her eyes never left the knight."
B'vaz then closes her blind eyes and takes a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out with an audible sigh. "Black Raider," she says to me, "you must be willing to accept truth before your journey can continue. Your days of denial are at an end. Can you accept this?"
I do not hesitate as I say to her, "Yes, I accept this, the truth is all there is for me. It is all I have left of my past life, and all I now want for this one." She chuckles at this and mutters under her breath, "So very much like your mother, stubborn, strong-willed and obstinate. Her price was also heavy."
"Son of Q'atild," B'vaz says to me, "your mother became enamored with this knight. Her every waking thought was of him and he haunted her dreams. I believe she was given a vision of him, or something to do with him, but she would never tell me and by this time in her training she was far too powerful for me to ascertain her visions through any means I possessed of doing so."
"Radeek, this knight of the Empire, this warrior who so consumed your mothers thoughts, this man born of battle, he is your father. I know this because when your mother left here, her training complete, she was with child. That child, Radeek Andoran, Black Raider of the Mir'Sheq, bearer of the twenty-two scars, is you."
I am stunned, to say the least. This cannot be true, it can't! All these long years I've hated the Empire, with all my heart and soul, all that I am, my entire being. I relished in killing them, I bathed in their blood, fed on their agony, and let their suffering at my hands assuage my anguish. My mind screams in silent denial. No! Not this! Anything but this! This…THIS CANNOT BE!
I can't breath! There isn't enough air here! I am suffocating! My thoughts are confused and incoherent. I stagger to my feet and stumble from the tent into the cool of the night. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry, scream my anguish into the night or fall to my knees in silent defeat.
B'vaz follows me into the night; she has a way of clicking her tongue that allows her to "see" through the sounds she makes. When the old woman reaches me, she puts a hand gnarled with arthritis on my shoulder and gently applies pressure, indicating she wants me to sit in the sand. My legs betray me and I end up falling to my knees, the old Seer kneels beside me.
"There is always a price Radeek Andoran, son of Q'atild," she says to me. "Yours has been paid, many times over." She reaches over, takes my hand in hers, and, drawing a dagger, drags the edge over my palm, making a shallow cut; I feel nothing. She then licks the blade, her eyes closed in concentration, as my blood drips into the sand.
"Black Raider," she says, "Child of the Sands, much has happened to you; cast out from your people, murderer of an alliance bound in darkness, you turned your back to the Light, betrayed by your closest friends, touched by the Maw of the Void, Shadow has burdened and darkened your soul, your mind has been bent, and loss has stained your honor."
"You have walked alone for years and your pain runs deep, but I see the touch of a blood mage upon you, a Tehir blood mage, and one who is very powerful. This blood mage did you a service, for which you paid a price."
Once more, she tastes of the blade, and, after a moment of contemplation, continues, "Your love for the raven-haired woman is exceedingly strong, it consumes you, but I see you have no fear of this, you even welcome it with all your heart. Very, very good, Black Raider."
A look of surprise crosses her features and she states, in a voice filled with incredulity, "Well now, this is certainly interesting. You have shared your blood with this woman, and she with you... that is indeed a surprise. The power of the bond of blood is second only to that of love, and I see you share both with this woman. You each carry a part of the other everywhere you go and that makes you very strong, son of Q'atild. Your birth-mother would be proud."
"You have your mothers blood, Desert Strider, you are Tehir, through and through. Tomorrow you will have answers to your questions. You will soon hear the wind speak and know and understand what you see, and why. Your mothers' legacy to you will be revealed, but you must find your own way. You have been touched by Shadow and a powerful Blood Mage; the power of the Seer was opened to you then… you do not need me to show you the way, only the why."
"Sleep now son of Q'atild," she says to me. "There is a guest tent for your use. Tomorrow is another day, and all will be as it should. You are Tehir." I proceed to the guest tent but sleep eludes me, too many thoughts are spinning through my head. This cannot be true; I cannot be the son of an Imperial knight. I can't…not me.
Finally, through sheer exhaustion, I fall into a restless sleep; my dreams are of that one fateful night. It is as it was, over thirty years ago; I hear the sounds of warfare, the cries of victory and defeat, the breaking lance, and that weight upon me. I hear her words whispered in my ear once more, the last living words she ever uttered…
Dawn in the Sea of Fire is nearly always a spectacular event, one that I never truly appreciated until I left my home. My restless sleep last night has left me with many more questions than answers. I was up early, as has always been my custom, and I climbed the highest dune in the area and sat atop it, watching the sun begin to lighten the eastern sky with hues of scarlet and violet, my thoughts a jumbled mess in my head.
The encampment below me is beginning to come to life; I smell the fires and the morning meals being prepared. People are moving about, mostly younger Tehir doing their morning chores, but there is the old Seer, clad in crimson, and I can see her looking in my direction. Somehow, she knows where I am and probably knows what I am thinking.
As the sun rises higher the sky takes on tinges of orange and yellow, and the winds begin. I rise to my feet and make the trek back down to the encampment. The young Tehir stop what they are doing and watch as I pass, a stranger in a familiar land, and I head to the Seers tent. She is waiting for me with a cup of hot coffee and a light meal of porridge and some sweet cakes; we eat in silence.
After we finished breaking our fast, an acolyte, clad in azure veils, removes the remains of the food and brings in more coffee; it is a dark, rich brew, strong and bitter. It is only then that the Seer speaks to me.
"Son of Q'atild," she says, "you slept little last night, and what sleep you did get was plagued with visions and dreams. Tell me of them, tell me of your mothers death, and tell me of her legacy to you."
This I do, telling her all I know about that night; she listens in silence, nodding occasionally. I tell her of the morning after, of the death of Vamek, the burned girl that I released from her agony, of being found by G'Arrone and his raiders and my subsequent adoption, and of my fear and pain. It all comes pouring out of me; there is no stopping it.
The tears begin as I tell her of my birth-mothers last words to me, whispered into the ear of a seven year old man-child, as her life's blood poured into the sand, a life given to save another… her life, sacrificed, so that a young boy, me, might live. I cannot describe the agony I was feeling at that moment; it was as if my entire life was spread out before me, all the details, all the faults, all the mistakes, and it was found to be lacking, wanting, and needless. The killing, the hate, the sacrifice, the loneliness… was for naught.
She watches me, her face showing no emotion, no feeling, giving no hint to what she is thinking. Then, a smile spreads across her face, and suddenly she begins to laugh, an uproarious, cackling laugh. At that moment, all I want to do is to take her scrawny neck into my hands and squeeze with all my might.
In the midst of her laughter she says to me, "Son of the most powerful Seer I have ever known, child born to the sands, forged in war, haunted by Shadow… surely you are no fool; your scars bear solemn testament to that fact, Black Raider. You, whose path is so narrow that you walk upon the edge of a blade, yet you allow yourself to be swayed by my words, you have doubts about who and what you are… yet again."
"Nothing I have told you changes anything," she says. "You are who you were, who you are, and you will be who you will be. The knowledge you have gained changes NOTHING, except to you, and that, Radeek, is the mark of a fool."
The old Seer chuckles once again. "You think that you are different now because you now know that you are the son of a knight of the Empire; you fear that all you did was wrong, a mistake. Or perhaps you believe that what she did was a mistake…"
The old woman reaches out and takes my shaking hand into hers, her grip like iron. "The blood in your veins is Tehir, Black Raider," she says. "The Calling you have answered makes you nothing else." B'vaz releases my hand and lies back on the cushions surrounding her. "You blame her, don't you?" she asks.
I close my eyes and take a shuddering breath, the anguish within me trying to get out. "Yes," I reply, in a voice barely above a whisper. The Seer pours herself another cup of coffee and turns her gaze to me, the vehemence evident in her voice. "Then you truly are a fool, Desert Strider. You cloud what you know to be the truth with prejudice, avarice, and ignorance. Surely you are not so stupid as that, are you?"
Her voice and her countenance soften and she says to me, "You are a child of love, Radeek; your mother loved the knight, and he loved her, if only for a brief time. You have that same, all-encompassing love in your own life, son of Q'atild, surely you know from your own experiences with the raven-haired lass that love takes on a life of its own and the power of it cannot be denied nor overcome. Your mother knew what she was doing, and I think I know why."
This piques my interest even more; even a hint of what my mother may have been thinking when she chose a knight, some reason for what she did, and why. But then I think to myself, does any of this really matter? The old woman says I can change nothing, and nothing has changed for me; I suppose that means it is for purely selfish reasons that I need to know why.
B'vaz sips her coffee as she considers her next words, words that are so very important to me. "Radeek," she says, "your mother was a very powerful woman, especially so for one so young. She knew she would never be welcome in the land of the knight and that he would never be accepted among our people. So she chose instead to have a child by him, one who would be raised and trained as Tehir, but could walk in both worlds, if he so chose, as you now do."
"I also believe," she continues, "that she knew of everything that would happen on that fateful night from your childhood; as I said, she was very powerful, her blood magic was strong as was her gift of foresight. I am convinced she knew all and was ready for it; and all that happened since, she was prepared for, including all things pertaining to you."
I begin to see the reasoning behind my mother's choices; it begins to dawn on me just how powerful and wise she must have been, to see so much, to have understood what she saw, and to be able to react and plan accordingly.
B'vaz says to me, "Enough of this talk of the past, it cannot be changed, only learned from. Besides, you are here about your future and what is to become of you, are you not? Since we cannot change the past it would seem wise to dwell on the present and the future, wouldn't you agree?" I nod in assent; anticipation and a sense of lingering dread are in my mind. The questions I've had for years are about to be addressed…I wonder if I'll like those answers.
I hold the blade of the dagger in the flame, allowing the heat to purify the instrument of my self-inflicted pain and suffering; just one of the tools I use to enhance my own ability to see and to understand. The methods used by the Tehir for blood magic and scrying are ancient beyond belief, passed down from generation to generation by the elders, those with the knowledge and the power to control it, to bend it to their will.
I gain in knowledge and power each day, the sight comes easier, and lasts longer each time, more vivid and easier to understand and interpret. My mentor seems pleased with my progress; lately she seems to be gently reminding me of things rather than screaming at me when I do something that is not quite right. Her knowledge is profound, in the extreme.
I've been away from home for nearly two months now. I miss Phever so much I can't even begin to put it into words; once again, she sacrifices for me. Thoughts of her are a distraction at times, and B'vaz constantly berates me, reminding me to concentrate, allowing nothing to keep me from my goal, but I don't care. She tells me "the raven-haired one will still be there when I go back."
She has been teaching me the history of the Tehir as well, passing down the knowledge accumulated over centuries of life in the Sea of Fire. She tells me that to have a partial understanding of anything is more dangerous than having no knowledge at all and is determined that I will be well rounded in the lore's and histories of my people. B'vaz has told me that I must pass this gift on to those Tehir who would listen. She is bound and determined that I know the histories forward, backward and inside out.
B'vaz takes great pains to remind me that, even blind, she sees things more clearly than I. She says that to see one must close their eyes and look only deep into oneself. When you get deep enough to see your own baser emotions like pain, anger, hatred, and sorrow, and you can lay them aside, only then are you ready to see the beyond. I have a lot to lay aside.
I have been using my mothers scrying bowl more than any other item, which pleases B'vaz immensely, she had it made for my mother when she showed an affinity for scrying in that fashion. My teacher has taught me how to use my own blood to achieve a focus that is not normally achieved when scrying with water alone and it has made it much easier for me to be successful in my attempts to see.
B'vaz introduced me to blood magic, the Tehir style of it anyway, on the third day I was here. She says there is limitless power in blood; the limits are placed on it by our own will, or lack of it. I can understand now why the Empire and the Hall of Mages fear it so very much, anyone can have this power at their disposal, and the potential for great evil cannot be over-stated.
My dabbling into the realm of Blood Magic is not something I am proud of; I remember all too well the way Elithain Cross and the Maw of the Void used the power of blood against us. I do not know if I possess the strength of will to keep from using the blood magic for ill gains and this troubles me greatly; hence I have been afraid to let go of my emotions and allow my will to dominate. This is something I must overcome if I wish to have anything resembling my mothers power.
B'vaz has taken a keen interest in the visions that were given to me by the Shadows; she says they are what released the Seer in me, what brought forth the Tehir blood legacy and the desire to seek out and learn from one who knows. Or perhaps Teuriz had something to do with it, by performing the blood ritual that restored Phever's physical scarring and my mental and emotional scars. I don't know; I only know my need and desire began at that time.
Today I joined the Raiders of this encampment on a hunt; B'vaz said I needed a break and to make myself useful. Eclipse joined us and I believe the other Tehir were very impressed with her intelligence and her abilities. Wolves are uncommon to the Tehir, even in the borderlands. Tales and stories are told of them from long ago, quite possibly from a time before the Tehir inhabited the Sea of Fire, when we inhabited the green wood, known today as Wyrdeep Forest .
Fresh Morduska meat, I have not had that in a very long time, and it was delicious, though the hunt was tainted due to a death. Sometimes a large Morduska lays claim to a raider before it gives up and this happened today. The Morduska killed a young Raider; he was barely sixteen summers. Impatience and inexperience contributed to the death I am sure and the desert is a cruel mistress at the best of times.
My training at the hand of B'vaz is nearly complete; she says time and experience are now my best teachers. Blood Magic is now a part of me, for defense as well as offense and the gathering of information. I have grown fond of the old Seer in my time here and I believe that, through her association with my mother all those years ago, she has taken me as a sort of surrogate grandson. I remember the first time I used my mothers scrying bowl in her presence, I heard her sharp intake of breath when she saw it so I handed it to her. She cradled the bowl to her breast and I swear I saw a tear on her cheek. She loved my mother, of that I have no doubt.
I will miss the old woman who taught me so much in such a short time; I owe her more than I can ever re-pay, though she says she did it for the memory of Q'atild, my birth mother. Her last words to me upon our parting were, "Walk with the sun, Radeek Andoran, Black Raider and son of Q'atild Andoran. She would be so proud of you, child of the desert, grown to a man."
I left B'vaz and the rest of the Tehir clan and made my way home; it was good to see the Sea of Fire again and to be with my own people, but I wanted to go home, to Phever, the Landing, and our friends. I had what I had come for: knowledge and a sense of peace and accomplishment. Though I am still troubled over the matter of my parentage, I can do little about it. You can always pick your friends, but you have no choice about your relatives.
General Radeek Andoran
Drakes Vanguard
Defender of Wehnimer's Landing
Black Raider of the Mir'Sheq
Walkar says, "Taladorian soldiers cursed only one name more than my own."
Walkar says, "...you more than proved your love for this town and its people Radeek, time and again."
Walkar nods to you.
Only the dead have seen the end of war - Plato
http://radeekandoran.blogspot.ca/
http://thetehirchronicles.blogspot.ca/
