Chosen of the One: Chapter 7, Part 1

5 January 2026

We continue with our epic, Chosen of the One, by returning to Sir Blakstar at the summit of the Mountain of Vision where he meets the Keeper and receives the gear of Sir Karble, founder of the kortexi order. . . . (6 January 2014) We again remind our readers to right-click on the Glossary link, open in a new tab or window, thus enabling the reader to learn what each of these new terms mean.

Chapter 7, Part 1

Little is known concerning the Keeper who resides at the summit of the Mountain. . . . Rumor says he is the brother of Sir Karble, still living, but nothing in the surviving records and none among the kortexi order will confirm or deny this rumor. . . . All inquiries are met with stony silence. . . .

from The Higher Orders, written by order of the Fereghen in atno 1739

“Come, Sir Blakstar,” the keeper said, “I have waited many long ages for your arrival.” The keeper was a head shorter than Blakstar, well-built but not heavy, face and head covered with long, silver hair. He took the kortexi by the elbow and led him to a circular, stone platform, six feet across and raised about a foot above the mountain’s flat summit. The surface of the platform was covered with runes that glowed golden as soon as the keeper’s foot touched it. When both stood near the center of the stone and the keeper waved his right hand, Blakstar saw a flash of golden light and felt his stomach lurch even as his surroundings blurred. The runes on the stone flared even more brightly, filling his vision completely with the bright, golden light. When the sensation of movement, along with the golden glow, faded, he stood next to the keeper on another circle covered with softly glowing runes in a square chamber without a visible exit, the ceiling also glowing with golden light. This room contained two comfortable chairs and a couch, and a slightly larger than wethi-size stone cabinet with ornately carved pearl handles. In one corner of the room he saw a fountain of clear running water. The fountain was a simple affair: a small, round pipe protruded from the wall, the water falling steadily into a square stone catch basin set into the floor. A simple metal dipper hung from an iron pin driven into the wall. The keeper steered Blakstar toward the fountain, indicating that he should drink by taking and dipping water from the fountain with the iron ladle. The kortexi took and drank the cool water and felt as refreshed as if he had just risen from a night of undisturbed rest. This feeling began at the center of his body, cool strength surging outward until his whole being coursed with excitement.

“Oh Great God!” he shouted suddenly, “with the strength of thy holy arm, how can we fail!”

In his mind’s eye he suddenly saw himself enter the red kailu fortress and rescue the golden-haired wetha, dealing out death to all the red kailum who opposed him; he saw the adoring look on her elfin face as he carried her to freedom. He entered Kolu itself, slaying all who opposed him until he reached Kolu’s champion, a giant figure swathed in shadow swiftly killed by a single massive stroke from his flaming sword. He finally stood before Gar himself, easily destroying him with a single thrust of his golden sword. He jerked as a firm hand touched his shoulder, and the pleasant daydream vanished like mist before the wind.

“Thus he who drinks the Waters of Life for the first time alone,” the keeper interrupted, one hand on his shoulder restraining him, “swiftly finds death.”

Blakstar looked up at the keeper surprised. “How could something so good bring about death?”

“Throughout the earth,” the keeper continued, appearing to ignore his question, “fountains of the Waters of Life may be found. They are the earth’s gift to its inhabitants. Although one has gone without food and rest many days, a sip of these waters will instantly restore one, but they are perilous to one who is unaccustomed to them. They enhance whatever inherent strengths the individual has to the point of breaking all other restraints and discipline. Then the person does something foolhardy, as you thought to do, which in nearly all cases, causes the loss of that person’s life. Part of your life’s mission is to be the bearer and finder of the Waters of Life. In the equipment I will soon give you is the only container ever created to carry the Waters, for Waters taken in any other vessel become their opposite. They bring melancholy and depression, and the one who drinks them becomes so dispirited that he takes his own life. Trust only your own inherent sense for finding true fountains of the Waters of Life. Close your eyes and turn slowly away from and then back to this fountain.”

The kortexi did as commanded and felt a tickling sensation between his eyes at the bridge of his nose, like a fly or some other small insect. As he turned away, eyes still closed, the sensation moved around his head, tickling the top of one ear, then at the back of his skull, and he knew he had turned completely away. Continuing to turn, the feeling left the back of his head, tickled the other ear, moved over his temple and forehead until he stopped when the fountain was directly before him; he opened his eyes.

“Remember that sensation,” the keeper said, “for the day will come when it just might save your life and the lives of your companions.”

The keeper moved to the stone cabinet, opening it with the touch of one finger and the word, “Karble.” Inside, Blakstar saw armor and weapons emblazoned with a symbol he immediately recognized: a tall vase with a narrow neck and an eye with its lashes stretched from top to bottom of the front of the vase.

“Those are the devices of Sir Karble, first and foremost of all kortexem!” Blakstar exclaimed in awe.

The keeper smiled and nodded once. “This is the equipment of Sir Karble eli kerdu-ghebi, which means the One’s chosen life-bearer. He was the first and until now, the only bearer of the Waters of Life. As you travel the land bearing his devices, a legend come to life, you will bring hope to the hopeless and life to the dying. Evil will mock and persecute you, for daring to wear the devices of a hero long dead. Yet in their hearts they will fear you and what you represent. Hear now the prophecy of Karble, given on his deathbed as he delivered this equipment into the hands of the keeper of the Mountain: On a day far from now, when good suffers under the oppression of evil, one will come bearing my devices and the Waters of Life, marked by evil, but chosen by the One to become like me and restore life and good to the world. As long as you remain true to the promises made as a kortexi, your life will be preserved until you fulfill the mission reserved for you. Now, gird yourself with the raiment, armor, weapons, and equipment of Sir Karble and become Sir Blakstar eli kerdu-ghebi, the One’s chosen life-bearer.”

The keeper took a strange suit from the cabinet of some light material that shimmered golden as it moved; it opened from neck to waist and would cover him from head to toe, leaving only his face exposed. The gloves and hood were removable and there were flaps convenient for natural functions.

“Remove your robe and sandals,” the keeper said. While the kortexi did as instructed, the keeper continued. “This suit will only open at the touch of your hand; slip it on and I will show you how.”

Blakstar untied the robe’s sash and started to slip it off; he noticed a tightness and slight pain across his chest that he had not felt before, not when he put the robe on. He let the robe slide onto the floor and touched his chest, feeling the lines in his skin inscribed by fire.

He looked up at the keeper, who was watching him closely, still holding the golden suit. “Why?” he asked, thinking the keeper might give him more of an answer than had the figure in white of his dream.

“You have been marked by Gar,” the keeper replied in a soft voice, “who fears and hates you and all the chosen–he has marked all of you with his sign, marked you for his particular attention: he will do all in his power to destroy you chosen, and he believes this sign will cause all to turn against you. You must keep this hidden; the damage will be repaired in time, but for now, think not on it. Instead, put on this suit,” he finished, holding the suit out for Blakstar to take.

He took it automatically, but he did not put it on. “But . . . how?” he stammered. “How did I get this mark–I have no memory of it–I saw lines of fire in a strange dream, but did not know dreams could affect the waking world like this.”

“The One has given you a gift,” the keeper replied, “a great gift. For now, it is enough for you to know that you have been marked with Gar’s sign, and you must keep it hidden from all eyes, except your fellow chosen,” he added, holding up his hand to stop Blakstar’s questions. “I will explain more about being chosen in a moment, after you get dressed.”

Blakstar nodded once and slipped into the golden suit and felt the garment cling to him like a second skin. The material was light and airy, covering him completely but without restricting his movement; it was lined with a soft cotton material that could be removed for washing.

“There are very few weapons that can penetrate this material,” the keeper noted. “Now, run your right hand along the front opening, from waist to neck.” The front of the garment closed with no sign of a seam. The keeper grabbed the front of the suit with both hands on either side of where the opening had been and pulled, failing to open it. “Now you try.”

The kortexi grabbed the front of the suit, as the keeper had, and pulled with all his might. The fabric stretched but did not open, as if it were a single piece without opening or seam.

“Now run your right hand from neck to waist where the opening was.”

The fabric opened; Blakstar smiled. “This is . . . incredible!” he exclaimed, searching a moment for a word.
T
he keeper nodded. “The equipment of Karble will give you the power to banish creatures of Gar from your presence,” he went on, pointing at the golden mesh, “at least temporarily. This material can be cut by certain weapons, but it will seal itself closed as quickly as it is cut. It is not completely proof against all attacks, but it will protect you from heat and cold and all sorts of unwanted intrusions.”. . .

Come back tomorrow for more of our epic story, and if you cannot wait until tomorrow, download the entire novel for free from Smashwords!