Chapter 8: Majik

Maleki:

Kallen didn’t seem to understand my question and responded with disbelief. “Come on, be serious now. You just tussled with a kaliber two maji like it was a normal day’s work. There’s no way you don’t know about majik.” He laughed at himself and took a drink of water that was brought over to us. “I could believe you didn’t know who that was; living under a rock would be enough to explain that. There’s not a rock you could live under that would be enough of a reason to have never seen or heard of majik.”

Miko and I had dead expressions with lifeless eyes. My brother spoke this time, “I have two questions as well. What’s a kaliber, and who and what is this prophecy about?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Kallen laughed, waiting for a reply. “Wait….You’re both completely serious, aren’t you?” Kallen said with an exhausted tone.

“Completely serious,” We said simultaneously. We were raised on a farm with only four consistent people in our lives, so it’s possible something well-known could have been hidden from us. I had seen other people, but our interactions were always limited.

“Fine, but you better not be playing with me, though! I don’t mind fighting a no-armed little brat.”

“Try it, Kal,” Miko said with squinted eyes.

“Fine! I’ll try and keep it simple and leave the more complex stuff out. There are two types of blood in the body; the red kind you see after a cut and the majikal kind. Majikal blood allows you to manipulate elements, but only if you have an affinity towards them.” Kallen placed his forearm on the table, then took his left hand and pulled his sleeve to above his elbow; one thick black line wrapped around his arm right below the wrist and at the start of his forearm.

Miko noticed this and babbled, “You have the same marking as our family!”

Kallen laughed. “No, this marking denotes the Kaliber of the individual. I am an upper first Kaliber, and my father is a lower third. The thickness of the line shows how capable you are at materializing your majik.”

This new information aggravated me. Miko was right about our Grandparents ignoring the difficult conversations. “Why didn’t our family explain this to us?” I demanded in frustration.

“The real question is, why did they hide all of this from us?” Miko said.

Kallen’s tone lost its humour. “Neither of you have the kaliber lines, right?”

We both shook our heads and looked down at our wrists.

“Then — if I had to guess — your parents are most likely unnatural majis.”

“Unnatural? What’s that supposed to mean?” My brother asked before correcting himself. “Sorry, it’s not your fault; this is all just a little confusing.”

“Do you want me to continue?” Kallen said as he scratched his head.

Miko nodded his head eagerly like he was diving into a new book.

“Well, there are four natural elements; Areos, Aerth, Aqua, and Agni. Those represent physical elements, Agni being fire, Aqua — water, Aerth or the ground, and Aeros — the air.”

“So, how many elements are there? You mentioned unnatural ones as well.” Miko asked, his eyes wide.

“Six base elements. Four natural and two unnatural. The unnatural elements are called end and life. Your parents were most likely majis of one of both of these elements.”

Miko seemed to be taking the information much quicker than I was, as he was already prepped with a response. “You’re saying our parents had elements that opposed each other, and that’s why we don’t have the black lines?”

“It’s difficult to know for sure, but that has always been the consensus. End and life majis are rare as it is, so them having a kid, especially two, is incredibly rare. However, you two don’t have the black lines because you don’t have any majikal blood.” Kallen responded.

I’m pretty sure I understood what he was saying, but I still need time to process all this. We surely had lived long enough to witness some use of majik, but nothing immediately caught my mind before today. “You’re saying they cancel each other out? Wouldn’t that be the case for any opposing element?”

“Yes, that would be the expected outcome, but the natural elements seem to enhance each other. On rare occasions, the opposite happens when a child is born with an aberrant element. You two are rare! Just on the unlucky side of rare….”

“Tell us more about the prophecy!” Miko demanded eagerly.

“Ah, that. Most people are aware of it to some extent. Some story passed down by our grandparent’s generation, maybe well before that, but I don’t know it off the top of my head. Something about untold power and the prevention of another war. You know — the usual. I can tell you that if there was a prophecy, though, it was meant for those two you saw earlier; if you believe in that stuff, that is.”

“Two?” Miko asked.

“The dude your brother squared off against was Kaelum, a renowned child of a royal family in Korvast who has a direct connection to the throne. He is hot-headed apparently, or well, I guess not apparently, since we witnessed it firsthand. Based on his heritage, he’s next in line to be one of strongest aeros maji on this whole continent.” He paused and took another sip of water, clearly not used to this much discussion. “However, the other one you saw, his name is Valour. No royalty ties. Not even an ancestor to cling to for recognition. There’s no doubt there, in a few years, he’ll be able to give even the strongest Aerth maji alive a run for their money. Kaelum and Valour are from two separate kingdoms who have opposed each other for who knows how long, but for some reason, they’re always spotted together. Pursuing the prophecy or on a new quest altogether. Who knows? Count yourself lucky you didn’t piss off Valour and that he didn’t seem interested in participating for the fun of it.”

I laughed a little after taking a drink of my water, “To be fair, it was Miko who bumped into him.”

Miko’s eyes darted to the side, almost nonchalant in fashion. “Thanks for stepping in…” he muttered.

Kallen laughed to himself before speaking again. “Have either of you heard about the castle of Glimfell?”

We both shook our heads again.

“You haven’t, huh? There’s a castle there, or a door, rather. I’ve never seen it, but apparently, they opened it for the first time in hundreds of years. Anyway! Story for another time; you’ve got enough to digest already, and for now, I only want to open my jaw again if food is going in it.”

We didn’t want to waste much more daylight after our discussion, so we returned to our journey through the city. This place is so big it feels like it would take days to walk across. Visiting the museum was still on our list, but we decided to go to the northern part of the city so we could safely browse around, and Miko promised to watch where he was going. Plus, causing a ruckus near an important area and sticking around is an excellent way to catch unwanted eyes, like those of the guards we saw at the front of the city.

We walked against the edge of the city so that we could see the coastline for the entire duration of our walk. It was blurry from here, but the water out there carried dark blue tints underneath the smokey gray clouds that stormed amid the seas. Even though I had felt what happened when those storms traveled inward, there was still beauty to it all, at least from this safe vantage point.

Our walk around this side of the city was pretty uneventful. We passed many people who didn’t second-guess three boys walking around aimlessly. I’m surprised we didn’t look more out of place than we did since we were gawking at every building as if we were discovering a new animal every time.

Miko was in charge of pointing out anything that caught his eye, but I was trying my best to keep my eye out as well. I didn’t even know where to start, to be honest, and it was a little discouraging since the first thing you think isn’t going to be correct, considering this should be hidden and not accidentally discovered. I wanted to point out interesting buildings that could be important, but what would we be looking for even if we decided to look in them? We didn’t even know majik existed until today, so there’s a good chance we are operating without a lot of valuable info. This is like playing hide and seek, except you don’t set the bounds of play. Although, I guess the riddle did say “between the kings and sound,” so there’s kind of a boundary. That’s assuming we are even in the right place. I trust Miko, though; he is much better at thinking and figuring things out.

Up ahead was a statue of a man holding a large bowl three or four times my height. As we got closer to it, I could see the bowl was holding a small fire that blazed a soft bronze colour that was a similar hue to the bowl. A boy sat at the foot of the pedestal, playing softly and slowly on a bent-up instrument. He looked around our age, older than Miko but younger than me. Dirty and torn clothes covered him, although he did not look thin in the face. It was to be expected in big cities like this; those with and those without is how Father always split it up. After watching a few people pass by him without noticing, someone tossed a coin at the ground before him and walked away without much more consideration. Feeling sorry for the boy, I followed in their stead and placed a coin at his feet. He took no notice of my action and continued to pluck away at his instrument. Blindness did not seem to affect him, but he could be deaf, mute, or just without energy from not eating, so I didn’t take offense to his lack of observation.

We walked to the north corner of the wall and found some buildings that Miko inspected while Kallen and I rested on a bench.

“Where do you think this journey will take you?” He asked while fiddling with a small but multicolored rock.

“That’s up to Miko; if he can figure out the path, I’ll forge ahead.”

“Forgive me for prying, but what will you do if he can’t get better?” Kallen asked with concern.

“I don’t know — I try not to think like that, Kallen. You’re a son, and I’m a brother. Your father needs you, and Miko needs me. We play the roles given to us.”

There was barely a second before he responded, “…and when my father passes? Maybe not today, but on some solemn afternoon years from now. Will I still be just a son? Or, can I change — become something more.”

I watched Miko as he read strange runes on buildings and paced around, talking to himself out loud. “Our roles don’t change so easily. Just because a fruit withers doesn’t mean it’s any less a fruit.”

“You misunderstand my point, Maleki. What about a farmer who doesn’t yield a single crop for several seasons? When does he reconsider his role or decide his role is no longer that of a farmer?”

“Then he will die a farmer. What are you getting at?” What he was attempting was more than I was ready to dissect today; I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that majik exists.

“What do you want? Have you ever thought of that?” He asked.

“Well, I want Miko to get better.”

“No, that’s what you want for Miko. What do you want for you?”

“I don’t know, Kallen. If I think like that, for even a second, I’m afraid of what it will do to me.”

“Well, what if he does get better? Then what?”

“I’ve never thought that far ahead, Kallen. This thing with Miko, his sickness, it’s been affecting him for so long that I’m not sure I can even imagine what it would be like if it was gone.”

“If you want to keep up the facade of being an optimist, you should at least have some optimistic goals for your future.” He punched me in the side of the bicep and walked a laugh off with his hands behind his head and elbows pointed to the sky. I was left to think of what he wanted out of this conversation. Not an answer, since I didn’t provide one, but he seemed content with his questions — signaling to me his true intentions were for me to dissolve this information all on my own.

Miko muttered the riddle repeatedly in different tones, pronouncing certain parts with more emphasis to meet his theories. He tossed a book on the ground with some intricate mechanism of movements in his limited state and then flipped through the pages with his boot. My brother can be quite innovative in this state; I guess he has to be to make living more livable. After watching him for a little while, Kallen went over and closed the book and kept pulling it further and further away to knock him out of his trance.

“Come on, Kallen! I lost my train of thought. I was this close to figuring it out!” Miko groaned.

“The only thing you were close to was a stroke. Even geniuses need to rest like us thin brains.” Kallen winked with a soft smile.

Miko grumbled, leaning forward as if to put his hands on his stomach. “Fine, you’re right. I am getting pretty hungry, too.”

We returned to the tavern and bought some apples and pears from a fruit stand run by a family who looked like they needed the coin. When we got back, I fell asleep almost immediately, but Miko and Kallen sat on the inside of our door frames, listening to the chatter of the lively folk enjoying their drink a little too much. I needed to rest after all of today’s walking, life-shattering realizations, and altercations with random strangers, so I left them to their own devices.

When we awoke, we brought the wagon, and I tugged Miko to the northwest part of the city to inspect more architecture and spots of interest that Kallen thought might be worth visiting. We would be looking at these objects and places through the lens of mystery that most people wouldn’t, so there might be something that others had missed out on when just enjoying the visual aspect. Writing and statues could have more meaning than the base layer of what they appear if there is some grand design to point us in the right direction. I was leaving all that to Miko, of course, but I can pull a wagon pretty well, so I just let him point and inspect, and then I would drag him over to his intended destination. Maybe that is why Kallen and I get along; we are both chauffeurs — at least he gets paid.

Amid a busy plaza, a creak flowed through the purposefully set stone, and through the loud murmuring of the crowd, I could again hear that familiar sound of the boy plucking the strings of his harp. He was in a daze, his head bobbing with a slight movement of his shoulder as if he was hypnotized by his playing. Miko pointed out the boy and asked if we should give him some food. Despite the busy crowd, almost no one paid attention to him or his playing. For a moment, I was frustrated. When Miko and I arrived here, we were in awe at the depth and height of the city and the walls. There were buildings that rose much higher than our house and barn, even taller than the tree’s on our property. All these people lived here with so much to their name and possession, but here sat a boy who looked unwanted and ill-treated by his kingdom. What is the purpose of excess wealth and property if not to share it with those who need more than you want? You can have walls to protect your borders, cities, or castles, but why do people shield themselves from their fellows? City life confuses me; maybe my parents were right to keep Miko and me out in the countryside.

We waited a minute for the traffic to clear up, and then I rolled Miko over to the boy, and he leaned over the cart to place some of the leftover fruit we had from last night. Again, not even a crack of a smile or facial expression could be recognized on the boy. We did not take offense and simply left him to his music since the leftover daylight was so slim after walking all this way to the corner. Miko, Kallen and I explored till even the sun had departed, and then we walked to the tavern in the dark. The light in the city from the torches and braziers was much different than we were used to out in the quiet of the fields and forests where the only light to guide you was that of the moons and the astral ring. Unfortunately, we hadn’t found much of anything yet that connected to the riddle or could even confirm that we were going in the right direction.

After some more days in the city and deliberation, we woke up, and Miko decided it would be in our best interest to finally go back to the museum and see if there was any information we could gather there. We had visited almost every pocket of the city from the corners inward to the center and had very little to go on. Every day, we would give out food to some of the people we passed by on our walks around the city and ask if they had any information that might help us. No one was very helpful.

Despite the previous incident, we arrived at the museum and entered without any fights or gates preventing our access. The whole place was as beautiful on the inside as on the outside. I was surprised people could even assemble a building of this size and keep it from crumbling down. We put everything together by hand on the farm, and even with tools, I couldn’t imagine this was possible. As we walked around the museum, paintings of armour-clad men and women surrounded in bold colours and textures were placed along the walls and exhibits. There were tools and weapons that had aged or rusted with time and were no longer useable in combat but had some historical or archaeological significance. Miko read every plaque and inspected all the museum’s artifacts while Kallen and I pretended to understand the importance of what we were looking at so we didn’t look out of place. This place also seemed to serve as a place of worship for these “Last Gods” that the temple had on display. I was hoping there would be a lot more information handed out or someone here to explain everything to us, but I guess that would be too easy, and we aren’t even sure this temple is where we need to be.

We spent three hours in the museum and repeatedly passed every painting, item, and statue until our brains could no longer process what we saw. Miko seemed in good spirits, but even he had concluded that although this place was important, it wasn’t to us. Kallen tried to settle the matter by stating, “This temple might be more important to Kaelum and Valor’s prophecy than yours.”

“Our prophecy?” Miko questioned.

“Well, yeah, all prophecies are riddles. Usually, prophecies are specific to a person or a couple of people.” Kallen responded.

“This riddle seems more like a call to action with a reward than a prophetic proclamation of events.”

“Well, where’d you find the riddle?”

“It was hidden on the back of a parchment that could only be exposed with a certain chemical.”

“Not exactly the typical mystical prophecy you hear of, but it is still mysterious. If it is a specific prophecy like all the ones I have heard in the stories from well before us, then there’s a good chance that it is generational. Sometimes, the prophecy calls to someone specifically, but they aren’t able to fill it, or they choose not to. In that case, the prophecy’s contents warp a little to fit the generation and time period of the next available person. There’s a good chance that none of the stuff in this building is useful to you.”

“I think you’re wrong, but I agree that this place doesn’t have anything that can help us right now. This riddle doesn’t feel specific; the contents seem so general and infer some specific path that has to be made. I don’t know. I’ve run through every word of the riddle, and without a hammer and fewer people around, I don’t think I can get much farther.” Miko slumped down against the wall with his arms limp and contained by his backpack.

“Not like a hammer would do you much good anyways.” I joked.

Kallen tried not to laugh, but his expression broke the seal of the moment and ended our frustrating day in the museum. This trip today meant we had exhausted every exterior and publically available interior that was available to us. If something were here in Quavoris, it would be much harder to find. We decided to leave the Temple of the Last Gods and get some much-needed food after the exhausting last couple of days. All this thinking and walking made me hungry for something more filling and meaty, so I suggested we return to the tavern we ate at after the first trip to the temple, and the others agreed. After the walk there, we found our table from the first visit and reviewed all the details that Miko had decided weren’t likely, and then Kallen labeled points of interest on our map that we could visit next. A woman approached our table asking what we would like to eat after explaining their available options. They were all meat-related foods, different sections of the same animal but with overly complex names. Kallen ordered very light, some sort of sausage from a mole pig. What intrigued me more was the King-Deer Miko spoke of before our journey here. I asked if they were on the menu and was assured that although they were rare, sharing them for first-time visitors was culturally significant.

The woman was middle-aged, with black hair tied behind her and an apron in front. I watched her eyes, and they seemed to show more care than a stranger would show. Perhaps it was Miko’s condition or our age, but she took extra care where otherwise we would not have seen it. After some explanation, she promised to return with a traditional and far less accessible part of the King Deer.

Some time passed as we continued our conversation, and the lady returned with a large plate. Her voice was soft, and she explained the process and importance of the particular food we had received. On the plate was a set of antlers that were unlike the antlers I had seen on the deer of our kingdom and instead were denser and more prominent. They didn’t poke out the side of the top of the head like usual but instead arose from the top of the head like a fan with alternating spikes at the top. The shape resembled a king’s crown, like in my father’s stories.

The base layer of the crown is a hardened bone that then leads to a thick layer of condensed keratin. The meat we would be eating was from the thin layer of marrow between the bone of the crown.

Miko and I had already ordered with Kallen, so we were full to begin with, but we didn’t want to be rude and decline. We both tried a bit of the tough meat, which was very different texturally from the sausage we had earlier. The lady spoke of the healing properties that the ground-up keratin is used for and that their ancestors used this meat for bedridden warriors. Miko had tried every family remedy, unique concoction, and animal byproduct that our family could find or had heard of, so we didn’t particularly have any high hopes for this.

There was enough leftover food on the table to feel wrong for wasting, which was the fault of the large serving sizes and our smaller stomachs. We weren’t exactly warriors or even adults, for that matter, but I did eat more than Kallen or Miko due to my expulsion of energy a few days earlier. Miko had been watching the boy across the street play on a tattered harp, which matched his light-colored clothes. Although the harp was not beautiful, the worn strings were plucked with an enchanting passion, filling the fountain and the courtyard. No one else seemed to notice the boy or his playing, which surprised me, considering the level of skill someone our age was showing.

I tapped Kallen on the side of his arm and pointed to the harp player. “Our traveling musical entertainment is back. I haven’t seen him do much of anything other than play the harp, not even get up or look up any of the days we have passed him.”

Miko felt terrible for not eating all of his share, and we still had a fair amount of the King-Deer meat left over. “Maybe he hasn’t liked any of the food we have brought him. Should I bring him our food from today? It’s special, so he’s bound to like it, right?” Miko asked as his eyes tracked from his plate to his arms.

He’s not exactly going to be bringing anything with his arms like that. I grabbed the plate, and we slid out of our chairs together. “I don’t think you get to be picky if all your food is given to you for free, but we aren’t going to eat anymore anyways, and it shouldn’t go to waste.” We walked towards the boy, his harp passionately being strummed, but with no recognition other than from us. Neither of us intended to interrupt his playing, so we waited for the right opportunity or for the player to hopefully recognize our position on his own. Yet, he continued to play; our presence was not even in his mind. Now that we were up close, I could see that his eyes were closed again. He was plucking the strings in a pattern but with no rhythm detectable to the ear.

Miko also noticed this and asked aloud, “Eh, excuse me…Would you like this plate of food? We’ve had all we can eat.”

I handed the plate to the boy, who immediately ate the King-Deer marrow whole. There was silence for a moment. After opening his eyes, the harp player spoke for the first time, with a venerable tone, soft but with each word picked carefully. “Finally, a decent meal.”

“…What?” I asked.

Miko was as stunned as I was. “What do you mean? Have you eaten any of the stuff we gave you this last week!”

His voice was still soft, but more enthused now, “Ahh, would you like to depart now?”

Miko laughed, “Depart?”

“Yes, you have the map?”

Maybe he was sick or mentally ill. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but we’ll be on our way now.” I put my hand on the crest of Miko’s back to nudge him the other way, but as I pressed, he resisted against me, dropping his shoulder to avoid it.

“The map? Yeah, yes! We do have it.” He looked over at me with wider eyes. “We, wait…how did you know?”

“Let me see the map. When would you like to leave?”

“Grab the map, Maleki! It’s in the big pocket.”

I grabbed the back of his pack, spinning him a little to the left. In his bag was the rolled-up parchment from the old healer’s house. Miko spun back around as the pack’s top flap fell back over. I handed the parchment to the boy, and he unrolled and inspected it intently. I’m unsure what he was looking for, as the letters were entirely invisible to the human eye.

“Do you wish to depart now or at a later date?” He asked firmly this time.

“Where are we going? How do you know what we need? We haven’t even told you what is wrong with him.” I asked.

“Your brother here is sick, isn’t he? Elsewise, you wouldn’t be here. Worry not though, The Garden provides.”

“The Garden?” Miko questioned.

“Yes, you heard the poem, didn’t you? ‘To The Garden, we are bound,’ The journey is quite enlightening as well. Although I must warn you, I can count on one of my hands the number of people who have attempted to travel there and met their destination. The conditions are unfair, the journey is rigorous, and who and what you find at the end may not be what you desire. Does this agreement suit you?”

“Suit us? What kind of pitch is that? Will this heal Miko or not?” I demanded.

The boy said in a monotone voice as if he was reading from a long text. “I make no promises of what The Garden provides. However, what it holds is otherworldly and incomparable to anything anyone could imagine or create. Does this explanation provide any solace?”

Miko nodded to signal his approval, which was enough for me. “Yes. We accept the terms, but isn’t this a little lucky? You weren’t difficult to find, and it all kind of happened by accident.”

“Oh, luck. Yes! You are quite lucky. You’re the only boy in this whole kingdom who can’t move his arms.”

“That’s not luck; it’s misfortune,” Miko said stiffly. “We just gave you some food, and coincidentally, you’re the guide, so it’s not like we solved the riddle. I just expected this would have been harder.

“Luck. Coincidence. Expectations. They’re all irrelevant to her.” The boy smiled and raised his white eyebrows; I had never seen a colour like that before on a person. Even Kaelum’s hair was only silvery, almost like smoke.

“I don’t underst-“

“You wouldn’t. Just know individual perception is different from others’ perspectives. You may not feel like you earned it, but you have more than you know. There is no such thing as luck — all things flow together — inevitably. You just have to be in the right place, at the right time.”

“Wait I-“

I interrupted, unable to listen to this madness any longer. “Do you want to keep arguing with the boy, or do you want to get healed?”

“Fine.” He muttered as I patted his head to signal my appreciation of his restraint.

“Great.” The white-haired boy said without enthusiasm. “We shall leave tomorrow, fifteen minutes after the first sunrise, outside of the city gates.” He closed his eyes, ignoring us again, and began plucking away at his harp, leaving Miko and me confused for the second time today.