A Court Of Night and Fire

Chapter Three

Articus tried to enjoy the countryside, but he was tormented by unanswered questions and found it difficult to admire the scenery. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to Celia.

"If mages created us and we can't have children..." he asked worriedly, leaving the obvious question hanging in the air.

"Don't worry," Celia said, giving him a rueful smile. "A man didn't sneak into your room and 'make' you. In the beginning we could reproduce and our powers were transferred to our offspring. There were thousands of us, once," she said, a sadness entering her voice. "But then, something happened. The older texts talk of it, but they're all written in the Old Tongue and are difficult to translate. From what we could gather, some type of plague attacked us. Many died and the few who survived couldn't reproduce."

"There was one exception, however. The families who had been 'mixed,' meaning Reapers who had married into families that weren't like us, who weren't Reapers themselves, could somehow skip generations. Because of this, they were still passed on. At first, every other child came to be a Reaper, as strong as her parent had been. But, over time, our blood thinned and fewer of those born were potential Reapers. Now it skips many generations at a time before one could be found. At the moment, everyone fears that soon our blood will thin out too far and..."

She let her hands drop to either side, her voice carrying a heartfelt sadness. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Articus tried to change the subject.

"How did you find me?"

Celia pulled her eyes away from where she had been staring at the road and started to rub her neck.

"We have a much larger and more sensitive version of the Talent Stone, called the Finder's Stone. Very creative on the name, I know," she said with a small smile. "It hangs over a giant map of all four lands. When a Novice starts to mature in their powers, the stone lights up and points to the general location of the individual. It took longer to track you down, since you were moving about so much these past two moons. After a time though, we reasoned out that you were in the Legion."

Articus shuddered at the idea of a giant stone blaring to life one day and pointing at him on a map, hundreds of leagues away. As if just remembering something, Celia clicked her tongue and turned to dig through her saddle bags, finally removing something and handing him an object wrapped in red silk. He lifted the silk folds and uncovered a long beautiful dagger, the scabbard exquisitely carved. Articus noted that it was an exact replica of the dagger that hung from Celia's right thigh. He grasped the hilt and pulled, baring the steel and finding a double-edged blade.

On a closer examination of the weapon, Articus was surprised to find that it was crafted by a true master of weaponry. Silver accents dotted the hilt, accentuating the design but in a tasteful manner. The balance of the weapon was superb, the steel of the finest grade. Removing the blade entirely from its sheath, Articus found an inscription in an odd text etched into the blade and running its length.

As he studied the piece, Celia said, "It is called a da'kka. Forged by mages, the steel is unbreakable and it won't ever need sharpening. All Novices are given one on the day they begin their journey to Tekal and you will find that every Reaper and Devoted still carries theirs. It is not only a badge of honor, but a tool for magnifying your spirit. But you'll learn more about that later. One thing you should know, though, is this," she pointed at the base of the hilt were three triangles were etched into the pommel. Backed up against each other, the triangles made an odd-looking star. "It's the sign of the Reaper; mind, body and spirit," She said, pointing to each glyph in turn.

Nodding absently, he sheathed the dagger and tried to strap the weapon to his waist. To his annoyance, two leather cords had been attached to the sides of the small scabbard and hung free. With a small chuckle, Celia directed him to wear the blade as she did. Loosening the leather bindings that held the dagger to his belt, Articus dropped it further down his left thigh before tightening it once again. He then tied the two extra leather thongs around his thigh. It held the blade firmly against his leg and the hilt brushed his fingertips when his hands were at his sides.