Chosen of the One: Chapter 7, Part 2

6 January 2026

Welcome back for another installment of our epic, Chosen of the One, the first book in The Redemption series! We continue with the kortexi, Sir Blakstar, and his meeting with the Keeper on the Mountain of Vision; we learn a little more about the kortexi order. Blakstar receives the first of three keys, the sword of Sir Karble, and learns one of its unique powers. . . . (13 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 2

The keeper took a pair of tall, white boots, embossed with gold, and handed them to Blakstar, along with a pair of long, thick socks, who pulled on both socks and boots. They fit well and felt more comfortable than any boots he had ever worn. The keeper then lifted from the cabinet a mail shirt of fine, golden rings that shimmered in the light. Blakstar knelt and the keeper dropped it over his head and onto his shoulders, and he felt no weight. The golden rings reached from his neck to his knees, and from his shoulders to his wrists.

“It’s so light,” Blakstar said. “Is it enhanced by teka?” he asked, one eyebrow rising suspiciously.

“Yes,” the keeper replied, “all of your equipment is teka enhanced, but its elemental strength comes from you. As your faith, strength, will, skill, and experience grow, so will the elemental strength of your armor and weapons.”

“But I did not think we were allowed to use items powered by teka,” Blakstar protested.

The keeper sighed, shaking his head sadly. “That is a corruption of the original kortexi ideals,” he noted, “it was never part of the order as established by Karble. Also, your case is a special one, but you would be unwise, considering the current views, to broadcast the elementally powered nature of your armor and weaponry.”

Blakstar frowned but nodded. “Just how powerful are they?” he asked, feeling uncomfortable speaking about teka.

“At this point,” the keeper replied, “the armor will protect you against all mundane weapons and attacks, and the weapons are effective against all mundane armor and creatures. Your armor cannot be cut, but, as you have been taught, nothing can soften the blow of metal on metal. You might never be cut, but you will get many painful bruises if you use your body to stop the blow.”

Blakstar laughed, recognizing the humor in the keeper’s words, recalling the many bruises he had received under the expert hands of the kortexi weapons master.

From the cabinet the keeper took gauntlets of the same fine, golden mesh and white leather, a white cloak with a brooch shaped like a water vessel the symbol of Karble, and a golden belt with a buckle similar to the brooch. Attached to the belt was a white leather scabbard tooled with an elongated version of the same symbol, the symbol embossed in gold. There also hung from the belt two waterskins.

“Can you tell,” the keeper asked after buckling the belt around Blakstar’s waist, “which is the vessel for the Waters of Life?”

Blakstar touched each vessel with his hands; he felt the familiar tingle under his right hand. “This one,” he said, removing it from his belt.

“Go and fill it in the fountain,” the keeper said.

The kortexi did as instructed, hanging the vessel from his belt. The keeper took a shining, golden sword from the cabinet.

“Here is your sword,” the keeper said. “It is more than just a weapon. You might think of it as a key to many things, some of which I will show you now, others you will learn in time. First, it will open this cabinet should you need to replace any of your equipment.” The keeper closed the cabinet and pointed to a narrow slot high on the cabinet’s right side. “Slide your sword into this slot up to the hilt,” the keeper did so, and Blakstar notice a clear, yellow gem attached to the pommel of the sword, “and it will open the cabinet.” He opened the doors and removed the sword. “Only your sword and my hand will open this closet. Next, this sword will open a door that will allow you to return to this room. Place the point of the sword on the ground to your left, draw a circle on the ground from left to right as large as whatever you wish to pass through the door. When the sword returns to the beginning point, raise the sword overhead in an arc and touch the circle’s other side. A gray shimmering archway will form, opening a doorway to whatever place you have clearly in mind. Step through the arch and you will be there. In this way you can move instantly to anyplace of which you have a clear mental picture in mind. However, it can be quite draining to those who are unused to artifacts of elemental power.”

“Couldn’t I just drink the Waters?” Blakstar asked.

“In time, as you learn to use your weapon of power,” the keeper replied, “drinking the Waters will be unnecessary, nor should you: save the Waters you carry for your future companions and those in dire distress.”

The keeper’s answer puzzled Blakstar, as it did not seem to him to be an answer to his question. The keeper drew the circle and a line of golden fire flared to life on the floor, and as he did so, Blakstar saw the stone on the pommel flare with brilliant golden light, matching the golden line of fire; he also saw different colored gemstones glittering in the sword’s cross guard as the keeper drew the arch in the air, opening the gray door, and Wingfoot stepped into the room with a clatter of steel shod hooves on the stone. The horse whinnied and nuzzled his master. The keeper lifted the sword from the floor where he held it, and the archway winked out as did the golden light from the sword and its gemstones. He turned to Blakstar and held the sword with its hilt toward the kortexi.

“Accept now the sword that I give thee,” the keeper began, switching to formal address, “and receive also the inherent powers of the sword.”

Blakstar went down on one knee. “Gladly I accept this gift of thy hand, and the powers that go with it,” he replied in the same formal, oath-making language.

The keeper led Wingfoot with a clatter to the fountain and allowed him to drink of the Waters. The stallion began to tremble with excitement, pawing at the floor and neighing loudly. The keeper laid one hand on the horse’s head, calming him. “Now thou art like thy master: chosen of the One and his special servant. Thou wilt be sensitive to his needs as he is to thine, and wilt follow and support him in all that he does.”

The keeper led him back to the kortexi, who scratched him under his chin. The keeper smiled. “Put away your sword and help me saddle your good steed.”

Blakstar began to wonder about the true size of the cabinet when the keeper pulled an oversized, golden mail shirt, lined with wool and of the same material as the kortexi’s. As the keeper threw it onto Wingfoot’s back, the kortexi realized that it was not so much a mail shirt as an armored saddle blanket that covered his steed from neck to tail, wrapping loosely around the horse’s chest. On both sides were symbols like those on Blakstar’s brooch and belt buckle. A white leather saddle with gold trim appeared from the cabinet and was soon strapped onto his horse. The saddle was followed by the rest of the harness, also in white leather trimmed with gold.

As the keeper strapped the saddlebags in place, he pointed to one side. “This contains healing supplies that will never run out as long as you never use them completely.” He pointed to the other side. “This contains rations that will keep you going when all else fails, and like the healing supplies, the rations will not run out if not completely used.”

To the left front of the saddle, Blakstar hung his shield bearing the now familiar device. On the right side of the saddle were loops for his short lance. The front and back of his breastplate attached to the rear of the saddle; the white-plumed helm hung from the saddle horn. His equipment was complete once he had buckled on his leg and arm greaves.

“I must speak of your life’s mission,” the keeper began gravely, “you will fulfill the kortexi’s dream.”

“What is that?” Blakstar asked.

“Were I to tell you plainly,” the keeper replied, “you might die of fright; in time, you will know. You and your companions will be called the chosen of the One. Together, you will bring about the downfall of Lord Gar and his kingdom, but not without much sorrow and misery.”

Blakstar paled and nodded once. “How will I know them?” he asked.

“I will, in a moment, send you to one,” the keeper replied. “Together you will travel to the valley of the kailum to meet more.”

“But should I not return to Karble first and report back to the Wesento?”

“No, should you choose that path you will fail at the beginning of your quest,” the keeper shook his head. “Remember this: to complete your first task you and your companions must be completely inexperienced to enter the place where another key rests. The more experience you and the other chosen have, the greater the odds against your success. No more can I tell but that you should flee all encounters until you have entered the place where the second key rests. Do you understand?”

The kortexi’s dark eyebrows drew together. “I think so,” he answered.

The keeper clapped one hand on Blakstar’s shoulder and squeezed. “Good. One thing remains: I must give you your special endowment against the minions of Gar. Kneel before me.”

As the kortexi knelt, the keeper spread his arms before him raising both hands and face toward the heavens. “Nemfa-ghelwo-komtra-duswektem,” the keeper sang. In the air between his arms small, golden lights sparkled, whirling around each other. The keeper moved his arms slowly together, gathering the lights into a single, golden globe of light about a foot across. Holding this globe in his hands, the keeper slowly moved it to hover just above Blakstar’s bowed head. “Esuleuki-donu-bagso,” the keeper sang, and the globe of light began to expand and increase in brightness. When it was brighter than the sun, it surrounded Blakstar and sank into his skin. The kortexi’s person glowed brightly for a moment before the light winked out, although a faint aura of gold still surrounded him.

“Now you are protected from creatures of evil intent,” the keeper said, “particularly purem; your aura will cause them pain and only the strongest will be able to endure your presence. This aura, like the teka of your armor and weapons, will increase in power as your skill and faith increase. Now draw your sword and I will place in your mind where you are going.”

In his mind, he suddenly saw a stone tower on a hill against a background of starlight. The tower was round and squat with windows and a single door. He focused on the door and drew the circle with his sword as the keeper had done; golden light flared from the pommel of the sword, down the length of the blade, and caused golden sparks where the point slid across the floor; the gemstones in the cross guard glittered. When the circle was complete, a line of golden flame burst to life, and he lifted his sword overhead in a wide arc, opening the archway. The gray shimmering suddenly became the tower on the hill lit by starlight. He felt Wingfoot’s reins placed into his hand and stepped into the archway leading his mount.

“Good luck,” the keeper said, “may you faithfully fulfill your quest, Sir Blakstar eli kerdu-ghebi.”

After crossing the threshold and lifting the sword, which closed the gray, shimmering archway and extinguished the golden light emanating from his sword, Blakstar had just enough strength to bang on the door with one fist before collapsing against its frame. . . .

Come back again next week, and we will return to Shigmar and the kailum as Klare leads her spouse, Klaybear, to the school to meet with Headmaster Myron, trying to make sense of what happened in the kailu sacred glade. If you prefer not to wait, you can download the entire novel for free from Smashwords.