Part 5
Cython returned a short time later with some stout branches and set about building a fire. Once the blaze started, he built a framework of branches around Hchahn and draped his cloak over it. It directed fire’s heat around her and warmed her far better than a blanket would have.
That accomplished, he tended the fire and waited.
As feeling slowly returned to Hchahn’s fingers and toes and the warmth reanimated her body, Hchahn observed this man who had so impressed her on their last meeting.
Brianna had sent her to recruit Cython to join their cause. His magic transforms him into an unstoppable mass of darkness and destruction which could have been a great weapon against the Vrikts who oppress this country. But Master Cython declined the invitation because he was afraid he would lose his humanity if he indulged the darkness that was part of him.
His words resonated with Hchahn. They intrigued her and unnerved her. She has spent so much of her life trying to find out what she truly is. The hermit seems to know himself so well. Hchahn had longed for another occasion to speak with him. Perhaps she could benefit from his wisdom.
She also noted that, although Cython glanced frequently at the durwood box that lay between Hchahn’s hands, he made no move to take it.
‘That is in keeping with his resolve.’ Hchahn thought. ‘At this point, even touching the box would involve him in the revolution. Choosing whether to keep or return it would ally him with one side or the other.’
“Who are you?” Cython startled Hchahn out of her reverie.
“You are not from this fiefdom yet you urge us to depose our ruler. Why? Why would a stranger care who sits on the Vrikt throne?” Cython’s voice was not accusatory, just puzzled.
Hchahn was about to answer when Cython changed the subject.
“Do you know what an Urloc is?”
“No, Sir.” Hchahn admitted. She struggled to sit up and move closer to the fire.
“An Urloc is a powerful magical being.” the hermit explained. “That is what they are and that is what they care about: being magical and powerful.
“They increase their power by creating magical offspring. Because they don’t actually have to be with a female to impregnate her, there seems no limit to how many children they can spawn. Fortunately only females who display genuine magical prowess draw their attention.
“When Lord Vrikt built his castle here, this valley was already home to many magical beings and practitioners of magic. He arranged competitions and other enticements to attract more magic users from neighboring areas. Soon there was a population explosion of magical babies.
“A few years later, rumors spread that Lord Vrikt would choose his strongest, most magical child to be his heir. Many parents became competitive. Many ambitious women sought Lord Vrikt’s attention so that they might bear him a child and future ruler. Ambition pretty much became the prevailing social attitude here.
“There were magical showdowns, intrigues, assassinations. Political machinations of every type and depravity long before Lord Vrikt got tired of watching it and moved on. He left the fiefdom in the care of a steward and never came back.
“Now his children battle it out for the throne. Tarlik, Bishop, Ytriam, now Brianna too. Who knows who will make a play for it next. To them the throne is a symbol of power. Nothing more. They have not governed this people nor sought to enrich the land. They have only fought to get the throne and to prevent their half brothers and sisters from getting it.
That accomplished, he tended the fire and waited.
As feeling slowly returned to Hchahn’s fingers and toes and the warmth reanimated her body, Hchahn observed this man who had so impressed her on their last meeting.
Brianna had sent her to recruit Cython to join their cause. His magic transforms him into an unstoppable mass of darkness and destruction which could have been a great weapon against the Vrikts who oppress this country. But Master Cython declined the invitation because he was afraid he would lose his humanity if he indulged the darkness that was part of him.
His words resonated with Hchahn. They intrigued her and unnerved her. She has spent so much of her life trying to find out what she truly is. The hermit seems to know himself so well. Hchahn had longed for another occasion to speak with him. Perhaps she could benefit from his wisdom.
She also noted that, although Cython glanced frequently at the durwood box that lay between Hchahn’s hands, he made no move to take it.
‘That is in keeping with his resolve.’ Hchahn thought. ‘At this point, even touching the box would involve him in the revolution. Choosing whether to keep or return it would ally him with one side or the other.’
“Who are you?” Cython startled Hchahn out of her reverie.
“You are not from this fiefdom yet you urge us to depose our ruler. Why? Why would a stranger care who sits on the Vrikt throne?” Cython’s voice was not accusatory, just puzzled.
Hchahn was about to answer when Cython changed the subject.
“Do you know what an Urloc is?”
“No, Sir.” Hchahn admitted. She struggled to sit up and move closer to the fire.
“An Urloc is a powerful magical being.” the hermit explained. “That is what they are and that is what they care about: being magical and powerful.
“They increase their power by creating magical offspring. Because they don’t actually have to be with a female to impregnate her, there seems no limit to how many children they can spawn. Fortunately only females who display genuine magical prowess draw their attention.
“When Lord Vrikt built his castle here, this valley was already home to many magical beings and practitioners of magic. He arranged competitions and other enticements to attract more magic users from neighboring areas. Soon there was a population explosion of magical babies.
“A few years later, rumors spread that Lord Vrikt would choose his strongest, most magical child to be his heir. Many parents became competitive. Many ambitious women sought Lord Vrikt’s attention so that they might bear him a child and future ruler. Ambition pretty much became the prevailing social attitude here.
“There were magical showdowns, intrigues, assassinations. Political machinations of every type and depravity long before Lord Vrikt got tired of watching it and moved on. He left the fiefdom in the care of a steward and never came back.
“Now his children battle it out for the throne. Tarlik, Bishop, Ytriam, now Brianna too. Who knows who will make a play for it next. To them the throne is a symbol of power. Nothing more. They have not governed this people nor sought to enrich the land. They have only fought to get the throne and to prevent their half brothers and sisters from getting it.