Chapter 15

“See that you treat each other with kindness, for I foresee many wars in your future, and those wars may be snuffed out if kindness resides within your hearts.”

The Guardian’s Instructions, penned by Rigel Knotsworth, year 1002

Presentation

"People of Magen City and of Salveria," Chief Justice Resin said. "I present to you, Oliver Kapur. The Guardian of Magic!"

The crowd outside burst into a cheer, much like a rock concert. It reminded Oliver more of the applause he often received as a Branch Leader. Recognizing this as his cue, he walked around the corner and emerged into the morning sunlight and onto the palace balcony, overlooking the city square. He smiled and waved at the people below, looking calm and confident on the outside, but cringing in discomfort on the inside.

Thousands of people below clapped and shouted for a long moment, truly elated to see their Guardian. It was a large crowd, but he'd addressed crowds this size before. Eventually, after he raised his palms toward them, they quieted down to hear him speak.

"Don't ash this up," Justice Resin whispered as he took a step back.

Oliver ignored him and the sick feeling in his gut, stepping fully into character, and took a deep breath. "My people!" He said in the boldest voice he could muster, his hands on the balcony's stone railings. "Long you have suffered the cruel years of war! Terrible has been the anguish placed upon you! And tragic is the undeserved loss you have had to face due to the tyrant, even Lennox Elmson."

He paused, taking his time to look at the people. He slowly scanned the crowd, picking a person one at a time, looking at them in the eyes, waiting until they nodded in response, and then moved on to the next. They were glued to his words, hungry for more. No matter the millennium, Oliver thought. People are like sheep, yearning for the voice of a true shepherd. Unfortunately for them... I am a fake shepherd but with a great voice.

"No longer!" Oliver finally said, making some of the women jump. "No longer will you have to suffer! No longer will there be anguish or pain! And no longer will we allow Lennox to torment this people!"

The crowd cheered again, louder than the last. Oliver scanned the people again, looking for those who weren't cheering or who cheered halfheartedly. There were a few. He gave each of them a piercing stare. Most of them shriveled under his gaze and joined the applause.

"In one week's time," Oliver said, giving a pause between each phrase to let his voice echo around the square. "The army of Magen City... and I... will march to Cambium... where we will put a stop to Lennox!"

Once again, the crowd erupted in applause, this one the loudest by far. Before the cheer died down, Oliver raised his hands above his head shouting thank you's, and then stepped away from the balcony. The noise of the crowd followed him as he reentered the palace and took half a minute to completely fade.

Oliver glanced at Resin and the other Justices in the room, who looked stunned. "What?" Oliver asked.

Resin took a moment to respond, too surprised to summon any words. "That was... magnificent."

Oliver shrugged. "Meh, probably one of my weaker performances, but it's a good crowd." With a smile, Oliver walked by them and out the wooden door to leave the room. As he turned the corner, Silas Jarrah stood in the palace hallway, and unlike the Justices, he did not look impressed.

"What?" Oliver asked. "I did as I was supposed to, didn't I?"

Silas scowled and pointed a finger at him. "This. Is not. A game." He said it slow and sternly, emphasizing each word with a tap of his finger on Oliver's chest.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, brushing the finger aside. "I know what's at stake. You don't have to remind me. But let me ask you this... when is the last time you received a cheer like that?"

Silas glared down at him. Oliver smirked as he walked around the Head General and snatched a wine glass off a platter being passed around.

"Head back to the School of magery," Silas ordered. "Ashley will be ready for your morning training."

Oliver froze in his tracks and let out a soft moan, bringing his thoughts back to his sore and achy muscles. This certainly doesn't feel like a game, he thought.

✽✽✽

Three days later, Silas had a lot on his mind as he walked down a magically lit street of Magen City. Large oak tree trunks held secure on the sides of the road Cast light for the few pedestrians still out. The light was crucial tonight because both moons were down. Only a few prestigious streets had oak logs to light them. Most still used candle-lit lamp posts because they were cheaper.

The general hadn’t slept much ever since Oliver had arrived. He couldn’t stop thinking about the war that was going on without him. He wished he could be in front of his army, bolstering their ranks and defenses. He wished he could protect the people of Cambium, the city Lennox marched on next. He wished he could be there, and not with Oliver.

Admittedly, Silas noticed dramatic progress in Oliver’s training over the past few days. He picked it up fast… remarkably fast. But, even then, Silas still felt like it was a waste of time. He knew Oliver wasn’t the Guardian of Magic. Why couldn’t the Justices and the Grand Arboler see that? Why wouldn’t they let him use the Guardian’s Wand again to search out the true Guardian?

He opened the door to his house and rested his staff upright in the entryway. “Daddy!” Before he managed five paces in the house, his nine-year-old daughter rushed around the corner, leapt into his arms, and squeezed his neck with all her might. “Daddy, I missed you!”

A smile crept onto his face as he squeezed her in return. “Hey princess, why are you still up? It’s late.”

“I let her stay up to see you.” The melodic voice belonged to Silas’ wife, Acaysha. “Alright Lily, you’ve had your fill, now let go of your father and get to bed.” Lily let go of Silas, said goodnight, and ran upstairs to her bedroom, her straight, golden hair bouncing behind her.

Silas gave his wife a warm embrace.

“You’re home early,” Acaysha said.

“Really?” Silas said. “When am I usually home?”

“Usually? Well, usually you’re not home at all. You’re usually miles from Magen City, months at a time, leading a war that could keep you from returning home to me forever.”

He sighed. “True.”

Acaysha embraced him more firmly. “That is why I love the unusual. Now, come eat. I made sure some food was prepared for you at this late hour.”

Silas followed her to the kitchen, passing by candles and a couple logs Casting light in the house. Her words conflicted his feelings. A part of him yearned to be home with his family, and another part of him longed to be out in the battlefield. Perhaps, when the war was over, he would feel more comfortable at home. But that would all depend on who won the war, which made Silas more anxious to be out there. And yet, even if the war did end in their favor, would he still crave the thrill of battle? Perhaps that was a question better left unanswered for now.

The Jarrah estate was one of the largest in the city. Servants bustled about their business, locking doors and putting out candles, preparing the house for the night. One maid laid a dish of heated food on the kitchen table. Silas sat down at the table, finally realizing how hungry he was, Acaysha at his side.

She was a beautiful woman who wore her age well. Tall with dark long hair, a natural celebrity among women in Magen City. Silas gazed at her before eating. She smiled back, holding his hand. For him, Acaysha could be described with one, powerful word: warmth.

She glanced behind him. “And here is our son.”

Silas turned to see his eighteen-year-old son walk into the ornate kitchen and take a seat at the table. They resembled each other so much. Both were tall and muscular, with large noses and prominent jaws. Ilan looked much older than he actually was. The difference was their hair. Silas had short, thin, graying hair with a full beard. Ilan was beardless with a head of curly brown locks.

“How has training gone with Oliver?” Silas asked.

Ilan smiled as he chewed on a tomato. “Pretty well, actually,” he said. “He’s catching on faster than most do. Still has a lot to learn though.”

“I’ve seen the same. He’s a quick learner, which was… unexpected.”

“Oh?” Acaysha asked. She didn’t have any food in front of her because she’d already eaten, but she sat at the table anyways just to be with her husband and son. “Why would that be unexpected?”

Silas didn’t answer, focusing on his salad.

“Father,” Ilan said, “doesn’t believe Oliver is the Guardian of Magic.”

Acaysha raised her eyebrows. “Really? Why not? He gave a great speech the other day.”

Silas rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t a speech; it was a show. He’s just a good actor, playing his part to get what he wants.”

Acaysha shifted in her seat. “And what does he want?”

“To go home.” Silas stabbed at his lettuce with a fork. “That’s all he wants, is to go home. He doesn’t care about any of us. He doesn’t care about Lennox. He’d fly back home at the first opportunity he got, leaving us to fend for ourselves.”

“But what about the Grand Arboler?” Ilan asked. “He believes Oliver is the Guardian-in-need-of-training. Don’t you trust his judgement?”

Silas hesitated to answer. Distrusting the Grand Arboler was on the verge of blasphemy. “I don’t know,” he said. “A part of me thinks it would be best to try the Guardian’s Wand again.”

“Don’t you think you ought to give him a chance?” Acaysha asked.

“I’ve already agreed to do that. Though I’m starting to think I might regret it.” He paused. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how things turn out.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “How about we turn the questions to you, Ilan. How are things between you and Ashley?”

Ilan choked on a carrot. “What… do you… mean?” he said between coughs.

Silas and Acaysha gave each other a knowing glance. “You know what I mean,” Silas said flatly.

Ilan looked at his parents, turning red. “Okay, we’ve been spending some time together, that’s all.”

“Quite a bit of time, if you ask me.”

Acaysha leaned over the table. “It’s okay to tell us how you feel, son.”

Ilan stared at his nearly-finished plate with flushed cheeks. “So… I think she’s pretty special. And that’s all there really is to it. It’s something that has just begun, so there’s not really much to say. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how things turn out.”

Acaysha smirked. “You and your father remind me of the new tulip bulbs I planted today; a lot of waiting and seeing how things turn out. Why can’t it all go faster? Silas can hurry and win the war in a single, decisive battle. Ilan can hurry and propose to Ashley. And my tulips can instantly sprout into fully-grown, blooming flowers. Can’t you two just hurry things along, so I don’t have to stay here, anxiously waiting to see how things turn out?”

“I’m trying to make this war as short as possible,” Silas said. “But Ilan, on the other hand, needs to pick up the pace. Your mother is desperately wanting a grandson.”

“And a granddaughter,” Acaysha corrected.

“Hold on, hold on!” Ilan said with both his palms facing his parents. “The lesson we all need to learn here is patience, right? Courtship is something you don’t want to rush.”

Silas and Acaysha’s faces were blank.

“Did our son just tell us to be patient?” Acaysha asked.

Silas nodded. “As if he thought he could order us about.”

“Where did we go wrong, love?”

“Perhaps it was that day he hit his head as a child?”

Ilan looked down at his food and smiled. “Okay, okay, I’ll invite Ashley over for dinner next double moon.”

Acaysha perked up. “Splendid! My tulips should be blooming by then and the war should be over. Can we expect an engagement announcement by then?”

“Mother.” Ilan leveled his gaze. “Even I know tulip bulbs don’t bloom until next year.”

Acaysha grinned and placed a loving hand on Ilan’s forearm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just can’t help but be excited for you. Ashley is a wonderful young woman, and I can’t wait for you to get married.”

“And have a grandson,” Silas added.

“And a granddaughter.”

Ilan snickered. “Need I deliver another sermon on patience?”

Acaysha laughed. “No, I’ll just watch my tulips grow.”

Ilan laughed with her. Silas laughed as well.

Which felt great.

It had been too long since Silas had laughed. He made a mental note to remember the feeling. This is what he fought for. Peace. This is why he needed to win the war… so everyone could have moments like these.