The Bond -Creation & Frelance-

The various kingdoms and nations were hardly ever at peace from each other or even from their own people. Strife riddled the lands between the Moon Sea and the Blighted March like rotten crops in a diseased farm where the owner ran off. There are a few multi-national organizations, however, that seem to cross boundaries. The White Oder of Swords, a group of holy knights that hunt down evil wherever they find it, is based in the southern nation of Torimor but has Forts of Swords in every nation except two. One of those, Eidany, is home to the Academy, the protectors of history and maps that holds the respect of every nation and governs every major library. The second where the White Swords are not accepted is the place of their claimed enemy, Amiland, the home of the Black Tower.

The mages, the men and women of the Black Tower, gather those from all nations that show promise to learn magic. There they are trained through a rigorous process that either seems them ascend from prospects to acolytes then finally to full brother or sister mages. Everyone from the poorest man to royalty are accepted, regarded all as equals and trained at least to the point where they are no longer a danger to others.

They are protected by the Knights of the Ward, also known as the Templar, that both keep the mages safe and keep the world safe from the mages. The warders, the Templar, are considered some of the best warriors in the world, imbued with the bond between them and their wards. This bond, the extra level of consciousness, and the empowered magical equipment that the Templar have access to make them truly the deadliest men in the world… aside from the mages themselves.

Parol and Lang were the two concepts of calling magic from the whisperer, or the orat, an entity that could be heard sometimes by those that had potential for calling. Lang was the concept of communicating physically with the orat by way of speaking, using signs of hand motion, scripts, dress colors, physical objects, dancing… anything and everything had some value as signs used in lang. Parol was the concept of using thoughts and mental imagery to communicate with the whisperer. Those that were good with parol needed less lang to call magic. Those that weren’t good with parol required great knowledge of the many signs.

Princess Ashelin Leann of Feraanland had perhaps the greatest potential for parol that the Black Tower had seen in generations. The progen listened to her calling often and was most of the time impressed with how much of a connection she made when calling on the orat for magic.

She’d spent little time as a prospect and was rushed through the test for the acolytes. The test involved opening herself up to magic as the progen flooded her with as much as she could handle… and even the progen had a difficult time doing that.

The first memories of calling upon the orat were all but a blur. A distant dream that seemed to have no reality to it. However, it was very much a reality. Ashe was born with the gift. The gift of great power to call upon the whisperer. The first time the Princess used magic was as a mere infant. It started as small incidents around the castle that could easily be contained. Allowing Cor leonine, King of Freaanland, to turn a blind eye to his daughter. However, it was soon realized that Ashe was much too young to control this power within her when the incidents became more frequent and difficult for him to explain.

Now that Ashe was of age, things are getting out of control. In a desperate attempt to stop the incidents before something disastrous happened, Cor sent her away to the black tower in hopes they could contain the power within his daughter.

At first, Ashe wanted no part in it. She resented her father for sending her to a place that did not respect her authority as princess. She refused to take part in her practices as well as associate with the others. That was until the day she realized just how powerful she could be. Just how dangerous she could be without their help. Things began to happen by simple thoughts and emotions without her desire.

Soon Ashe buried her nose in books to learn her lang, spent late nights practicing her concentration on parol and soon found herself excelling on her way to actually having potential to become a mage. And she had potential indeed. Before she knew it, Ashe had found the black tower her home. Soon she found It refreshing to be an equal among others. If one called her by her title, she would scold them, reassuring them she was no different them they were, here at least.

The test was surprisingly easy. Well, Ashe didn’t expect it to be terribly difficult but, shouldn’t it have been somewhat of a challenge? It seemed more of a challenge to the conductor than Ashe herself. It was no matter. If she passed, then she passed and now she was able to move on to the next step. To be bonded to a Templar.

Now Ashe stood before Jehanna who sat behind a book that could very well have stood taller than her tiny form would at full stance. The fact that she was even able to hold the book up was astounding. Ashe wasn’t one to be frightened by much, but the fact that the walls seemed to close in on them and there was nowhere to run. That was terrifying.

“Anna, when are you going to straighten this damned place up?” she asked while stepping over a fallen book. “It’s become a hazard to your health.”

She seemed to ignore her suggestion, “Ashe,” the mistress of initiates spoke from her chair on the other side of the room, her head buried in the large hardwood backed book she held in both hands. “Let’s see… Ashe… Ashe… ah, yes, here you are. You’ve been… no, that’s been annotated.”

She flipped through several pages.

“Assigned to be observed in raising by Sister Veran and Brother Rallius. Your bonded accepted of the ward is… Antrim Killough. Oh… well that’s peculiar.”

Her words that came out brought a smile to Ashe’s pretty face. This should be interesting. “Peculiar indeed. A perfect match if I may say so myself.”

The remark seemed to leave Jehanna in question. But to Ashe, there was no confusion. A chance to taunt her enemy, well that sounded spectacular. Challenge accepted.

Antrim had been watching the black tower grow larger by the hour for most of the day. It was just in the last hour that the skies had opened up and the rain started coming down in sheets. He had pulled his large hood on his cloak far enough forward that the water just rolled off the tip to then sheet off of the rest of the cloak. He had been tempted to take shelter when he saw an abandoned barn farm on the side of the road but his duty to the order kept him on his horse. It was not until he saw the third farm that he decided the rain was just another test.

His life had changed since the Knights of the Ward had arrived on one of the trading ships in the one of the eastern ports of Okenland. His father the ruler of the KIndgom of Okenland had taken Prince Antrim Bran Killough to the docks to meet the group of Templars. He had been expecting the group to be half templar and half mages since he had been told that templars were paired with mages to protect them. He had been only then at the time. He had taken pride in the way the youngest of the templars had gazed in aw at the citie that had been carved out of the stone cliffs that lined either side of the fertile valleys that had crops growing on every available space. He had explained to the boy who was only a few years older than him that the valleys protected them from the heat and the sand storms that frequently raged across the desert that made up most of the Okenland Kingdom.

The next day any pride he had taken from stunning the boy was beaten out of him as the templar boy had knocked to him to the ground whenever their blades met. While it was not the first time Antrim had been constantly beaten by an outsider. Normally when he was knocked to the ground this constantly it was by one of the children from a noble family. When they put their swords down and picked up bows it was Antrim's turn to show up the older boy. His first two arrows were only a finger widths apart. It was then that his father gave him the smallest of nods. Antrim loosed the rest of his quiver as fast as he could while keeping his closed. While the arrows were more spread out they were still grouped closer together than the older boys.

It had been that night that his father told him the Templars would be coming back in a few years to take him to join their order. While he wanted to devote all his time to his training from that point on his father had made sure to educate him in the politics of the kingdoms. The times when he was told to attended the balls and feasts that were held in the honor of the visiting dignitaries while fun in the beginning they became a chore when it became clear that the other kids who came to visit where his equal. Worst of all none of them would accept a challenge to spare with him. It was not until he arrived at the Knights of the Ward that he found out that most kingdoms did not train their nobles from childhood like Okenlands.

Snapping out of his thoughts as he realized the rain had stopped Antrim looked up and saw the tower was only a few hundred meters away. Pulling back his hood he waited until one of the Templars guarding the gate approached before he took his papers from a pocket in his cloak and handed them to the man. "I am here to be paired with my ward." Once he was giving him papers back he dismounted and handed the reins off to his horse to a stable boy who met them at the gates. As he was escorted into the Black Tower the templar spoke to him softly so only he would hear. "Relax this is what you have been trained to do. Remember your oath and be prepared to carry it out if needed. Protect your ward and protect the world. Remember those words." Antrim nodded as the older man spoke but he said nothing. He was more than prepared to uphold his oath. It was his ward that he was worried about. It had not seen Ashelin for years and that was for good reason. Their families had hated each other since before the desolation and it was only the fragile peace between all the kingdoms that had made it possible for him and Ashelin to meet in person. Not that it had ended well, they had started fighting almost instantly once they realized who the other was. When he was lead into an ornate chamber the gaurd left him.

Looking around Antrim only recognized a few of the symbols that were carved into the floor. But as soon as he slipped off his cloak and hung it up by the door he could feel the energy making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Even with that slight discomfort he waited at near attention with a short sword at his side and his scale armor on. The armor had once been the skin of one of the toughest demons from the desolation and his commander had assigned it to him just a few weeks before he was ordered to the Black Tower.

The trip across the quarters wasn’t terribly tedious. Admittedly, the journey was a long one. However, the miles traveled was easily forgotten by the elegance around her. The light of the sun accented the mixture of warm colors in the sky as it retired behind the mountains in the distance. The vibrant blues, purples, and reds of the various surrounding plants looked almost animated. The fields of green seemed to drag on worlds across. Ashe’s skin burned with anxiety at the sight of what she would now call partner that was only gallops away. Perhaps it was excitement that brought the natural dimples to her cheeks. At least he’s handsome, in some sense. From what she could tell these yards away.

When Honestly, she didn’t give a damn about the duty and responsibility to the kingdom. As far as Ashe was concerned, she lost that responsibility the moment they shipped her off. And she definitely didn’t care much for bonding a neighboring enemy. A man to boot! As far as Ashe was concerned, if he did his job and did it well, she didn’t give a damn who he was.

It was common knowledge that corruption ran vast with mages. Power was addictive, and the amount of power Ashe possessed was one even she didn’t quite understand fully. Even now, the potential disaster of her corruption could be catastrophic. If Antrim was able to put her at bay, even if that meant by death. If he is capable of doing what must be done in controlling her power so the innocent is not harmed, only then will he be worthy in her eyes.

Enemy or not.

No matter her own desires, it was becoming more and more clear how serious her situation was… And becoming more and more clear that Ashe should start taking this situation seriously. The sooner the better. That reality hit her harder than two dozen horses. They were no longer in the safety of the black tower any longer. No. If Ashe were to lose her mind to the whisperer she would have no one but her own will and self-discipline if he couldn’t pull through…

The girl halted her horse before hopping off the saddle, stepping forward within an arm’s length of the handsome man “How about we don’t make this any more difficult that is already is.”

Only moments later, Sister Veran and her ward, Brother Rallius, approached. “Ah, they have arrived already. Good.” Veran spoke “Let’s get straight to business then, shall we? Please take your places as I explain the process from here forward” She nodded to the magic circle on the floor.

Let’s get straight to business then

The statement caused her to have a desire to laugh. Instead Ashelin didn’t say a word, not one. Her intense stare shifted between the Antrim and the elders beside her. Still, no words.

Ah, yes. So, this is how it must be. But, was she ready to a part of her to be shackled down like some prisoner? After all, this power was a part of her very being. A part she both despised but couldn’t live without. Would anyone understand that? Well, he would if this happened…

Her weight shifted before crossing her arms under her chest then staring out the window. When Veran opened her mouth to explain the process, Ashe interrupted. “We need to bond, spirit and body. Do you understand what that means?” Ashe turned to the man who will soon know all of Ashe’s secrets and desires. “to put It plainly, we will become one whole in two separate forms. I will know your thoughts, secrets, desires and regrets. You, will be aware of mine. Are you prepare for something like this with me?”

“How did yo—“ Veran was interrupted.

“How did I know about that since no one was willing to tell the two of us until it was too late and we were stuck with each other? I’m more powerful than you realize I am. That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?” Ashe took a step forward, causing Rallius to step between the two protectively. “Am I wrong?”

Veran placed a hand on her Templar’s shoulder before taking a step forward, “No, you are not wrong. What do you plan on doing then, Ashe. If you wanted, we all know you are more than capable of escaping and never being found again. If you wish to run, then you should do it now.”

Ashe’s eyes met with hers in an intense stare. “I will never run. I shall prove to you, all of you, how wrong you are of me. If that means bonding to this man. Then so be it. I will prove to everyone.”

Veran smiled. “Very well. Then you know what must be done. Then, are you two ready for the bonding ritual?”

Antrim had stood a little straighter when he heard approaching footfalls. It was interesting to him to observe Sister Veran and Brother Rallius when they were not paying attention to him. He had noticed before that Templars and their Wards tended to fall into step with each other most than a none bonded pair would. It was something that had interested him but he had never asked as asking about the bonding process was frowned upon since it was seen as a sign of hesitation but also he had always had other things to keep his questions at bay. It only took him a few years to master most of the skills he needed since by that time his skill with a sword and bow were almost as good as the men and women who were supposed to be training him. They did everything to push him into harder classes but as he got older they turned their attention to preparing him to work with others by having him teach the younger trainees how to fight while he was taught the history of the world.

It was in one of those lessons that he learned where the rivalry between Okenland and Feraanland had started. There two families had never been allies but had not been at war for some time. This was because of the ore rich mountain range that formed the border between the two kingdoms. The mountain passes would make defending rather simple for both sides so they had shared the ore that was mined. This changed during the desolation a group of mages destroyed many of the tunnel riddled mountains which to this day still could not be mined for fear of instabilities in the mountain. It was near the end of the war though that a few mages from Okelend had pulled down two mountains into the desert of Okeland crushing a demonic army but it also diverted a major river from Feraanland so that it instead ran into Okeland making the many valleys perfect for farming.

From history lessons Antrim had been given in his youth he knew that life had mean much harder in his homeland before the river had been diverted and it had also given traders a shorter route into the interior from the Moon Sea which had increased his families power in the region as they controlled the faster route for vessels to get to their destination. It was only when Ashelin walked into the room that it truly hit him that he was going to be spending the rest of his life with one of the biggest enemies his family had.

Antrim was paying more attention to Veran so when Ashelin interrupted her he clenched his jaw and turned to face her to answer her. "Well neither of us will be surprised by our desires now will we? It is no secret that we have been raised to hate each other." While he kept his face from showing any emotion there was a hint of laughter in his words but even that disappeared as he continued to speak." As for the others I guess we will just have to trust the other too not spread those around." He doubted she had missed the not so subtle thread that if one of them spilled the others secrets there would be nothing left to stop the other from doing the same. Even though he did not tell anyone he had found a book of the mind in a dusty corner of the library at the academy that spoke of the bond very breifly but from the rituals that had been added in later by another author he had realized that the bond must include some sort of blending of minds. He had followed the exercises almost nightly from that time on knowing that he would want to make sure he kept his families secrets as secure as he could. Now he was very grateful to whoever had taken the time to add them to the book as it seemed he would need to keep those secrets safe if he wanted his family to stay safe. He just hoped Ashlen would not be able to tell that he was keeping a few things from her.

"Do not worry Princess, I will not hesitate to cut you down if you lose control of your power. Killough's never break their oaths." He let a slight smile cross his lips before he turned back to the bonded pair. The more Ahselin spoke the more he realized her time with the mages had not made her ego any smaller and seemed to have made it larger. When Veran asked Ashelin if she walked to run his hand was on the hilt of his sword before he knew it. It was only when Sister Veran made caught his eye and gave him a questioning look that he realized where his hand had been. To keep himself busy as Sister Veran dealt with the princess he took his time to undo the clips that held the two sections of chest armor tight against his body. Once he had opened the four on each side he lifted it up over his head and let it fall to the ground next to him. Under neither he wore a simple light shirt made from a strong silk from his home.

When he made quick work with the armor pieces and they soon joined the chest piece on the floor. It was only then that he looked up and saw that Brother Rallius was watching him curiously. "I feel that I do not need to wear armor here of all places. So I might as well be as comfortable as possible for this." He did not know how long the ritual would take but for someone as important as the ritual he expected it to take some time. He was waiting to see if Rallius would say something but gave his attention back to Veran as she asked if they were ready to go forward with the ritual. "I am Sister." To be honest he was curious to see what went into it. He had read everything he could about the mages but even the Templar's libraries did not seem to have very detailed knowledge.