Chosen of the One: Chapter 9, Part 2

14 January 2026

We return with more of Chosen of the One: Book 1 of The Redemption, as Thal wakes the following morning, going about the normal duties of the day, until something changes, and his parents, Hierarchs Kalamar and Nelle, send their apprentice and Sir Blakstar off to Shigmar. . . . (10 February 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 9, Part 2

Thal sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked around and suddenly realized the light in his room was much brighter than it should have been: he’d overslept. No surprise, since his rest had been disturbed by strange dreams and the arrival of Sir Blakstar. He jumped to his feet and dressed quickly, knowing that the animals would not wait. Pulling on his boots, he left his room and crossed the hall, tapping lightly on the door before opening it slightly, since he did not wish to disturb the kortexi if he were still sleeping. One glance told him what he needed to know; he closed the door softly, turned, and went down the stairs.

Nelle was in the kitchen, just putting bread into the oven.

“Good morning, Thal,” she said without turning, closing the oven door. Her long white hair was up in a bun at the back of her head, as was usual when working in the kitchen.

“Good morning, mother,” he replied, grabbing a basket and the milk bucket waiting next to the door. “You should have awakened me; I did not intend to oversleep.”

Nelle turned from the oven and smiled at Thal. “Well, son, your rest was disturbed, so I did not think that a little extra sleep would hurt.” She moved to her work table, beginning to clean and put away her bread making implements. Before she turned to the table, Thal noticed that her blue eyes did not twinkle with mischief the way they usually did, and there was a slight tightness at the corners of her eyes and mouth, signs that she was concerned about something.

Thal frowned. “Your sleep was also disturbed,” he said, “yet you’re up at the normal time.”

Nelle smiled at him over her shoulder. “I’m older than you; I no longer need as much sleep as you.” She placed her dirty things in the large mixing bowl, then carried them to the washtub. “Is our guest still sleeping?”

“Yes, and he will probably sleep for quite a while,” Thal replied. “He was very tired when I let him in, so tired, in fact, that I had to help the mighty kortexi climb the stairs. The odd part about it was that his horse looked well-rested. When I pointed that fact out to him, he said they came to the tower directly from the Mountain, which I reasoned must be why we heard no signal when he passed the teka fences.”

“But there was no teleport signal either; so how did he come directly?” Nelle asked as she was pouring hot water into the washtub from a large copper kettle that had been steaming on the stove, returning it to the stove before Thal spoke again.

“He told me that he opened an archway here with his sword,” Thal said. The bowl of bread making tools crashed into the washtub. “Mother, are you all right?”

Nelle stood leaning on the washtub, her back to Thal. “You better see to the animals, Thal: the cow was starting to complain.” Nelle started to wash her bread making tools. “When you’ve milked the cow and collected the eggs, hitch Plodder to the cart; I’m going to Artowgar as soon as you get her hitched. Your breakfast, and a tray for our guest, is in the dining room. Father has already broken his fast and is closeted in his study; he wants to speak with you, once you have finished the chores and eaten.”

“I’ll see to it,” Thal replied in a slight daze.

Thal left the room, descended the stairs, and entered the stable; the cow lowed at him. “I’m coming.” He grabbed the milking stool and dropped the basket near the doors, then moved next to the cow, sat on the three-legged stool, and began to milk. His mind ranged freely while he worked, mulling over his mother’s reaction to Blakstar’s name and the news that he had used his sword to come here. He wondered why these two things had upset her but set these questions aside, as they could not be answered without more information. The sword was another puzzle; it did not feel that powerful when he had taken it from the kortexi and placed it on the table, and yet, for it to do what Blakstar had claimed, since kortexem did not use teka, it would mean that it was an artifact of extraordinary power. Only one kortexi had ever borne those devices: Sir Karble, the first kortexi. The fact that Blakstar now carried them seemed to indicate that they were Karble’s devices, probably his very equipment, meaning that the sword probably was the legendary sword of Karble, reportedly lost after he died and rumored to have strange powers. Why would Blakstar be chosen now to carry it, along with the rest of Karble’s equipment? Thal thought he better stop by the tower’s library; he was sure there must be something there that would tell him more about the sword, the devices, and what they might mean.

Thal finished milking and carried the bucket to, and set it by, the door into the tower. He went to the outside doors and threw them open, picking up the basket and crossing the yard to the henhouse. His mind traveled a different path, recalling how he used to brag to the other street urchins that one day he would become a maghi, and simply cast an orthek, conjuring up his meals. When he first came to the tower, after Nelle had found him, he thought he would immediately begin to learn teka, but he was surprised when his first assignments were gathering eggs, weeding the garden, cleaning out the henhouse and stable, mending fences, and so forth, chores he thought beneath the dignity of a maghi. When he had completed these daily chores, he sat with Nelle learning history and grammar until noon. Following lunch, afternoons were spent with Kalamar learning math and the reading, writing, and speaking of the orthek language, or ancient. The evenings were spent discussing philosophy with his adopted parents, and stargazing from the tower’s roof after dark. One day a week was spent doing larger chores, like wood gathering in the fall, or preparing and planting their large garden in the spring. The first six years were spent in this manner, without learning a single orthek. Thal now realized that those years gave him the foundation for deeper study; without them, he could not have learned even the simplest of ortheks. He carried the now full basket of eggs across the yard and into the stable, stopping to throw several handfuls of dried corn into the yard, where the hens were now scratching. He checked the mangers before leading Plodder from her stall, hitching her to the cart, then leading her and the cart to the tower’s front door. Nelle stepped out before he stopped, beginning to load their excess farm goods into the cart.

Thal went back into the stable, then back into the tower, and met his mother in the kitchen. He emptied the bucket of milk into a clay pitcher, then placed the pitcher in the tengle. Nelle took the basket from him, removed four eggs, and added them to those already in the tengle. She took the rest to the cart, followed by Thal carrying the rest of the goods she would trade in the village’s market. Thal helped her cover the cart with a square of canvas, and was surprised when Nelle embraced him fiercely before climbing up.

“Thalamar,” Nelle said, holding him by his shoulders and looking directly into his eyes, “there is more in the world than you can perceive with your senses; there are things whose existence cannot be proven or disproven empirically or logically.”

Thal laughed. “Mother, we’ve had this argument before . . . ,” he began, but she cut him off.

“Remember what we have taught you, what you are and may become, and remember that this tower will always be your home.” She kissed him on both cheeks, then climbed onto the cart.

Thal handed her the reins and laughed again. “You speak as if I were about to leave; have the plans changed . . . ?”

“You are,” Nelle replied, “Sir Blakstar’s arrival is the signal.”

Thal looked puzzled. “But I thought I wasn’t going to leave until the fall, and then it changed to early this spring, but I haven’t left yet, why?”

“Plans change,” Nelle said. “Something delayed the kortexi’s arrival after it was moved to this spring, which is why we told you to be ready at a moment’s notice.” She sighed. “If anything should happen to us. . . .”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Thal said firmly.

“If it does,” Nelle continued, ignoring him, “remember what I have said and who you are; the enemy knows you and your potential, and your weaknesses. He will try to trip you up and prevent you from reaching that potential. Goodbye, my son.” She shook the reins and drove off.

Thal stepped out of the way and leaned on the door, stunned. Before he could consider what Nelle had told him, he heard a window swing open overhead and his master’s tired sounding voice.

“Son! Have you eaten yet?” Kalamar called and asked.

“No,” Thal replied.

“Wake the kortexi and eat,” Kalamar said brusquely, “there is very little time.”

Thal stumbled into the tower and up the stairs, still stunned by what was happening. He forgot to knock, entered the room, and found Blakstar buckling on his belt and sword.

“Good morning,” Blakstar said cheerily, then he turned and saw Thal, whose face was pale. “Is something wrong?”

“I . . . uh,” Thal stammered, “I’ve just been told that I’m leaving today, and my mother spoke as if I would not see her again.”

“This is unexpected?” Blakstar asked.

Thal shrugged, nodded, then shrugged again, feeling unsure.

Thal noticed Blakstar eyeing him before he spoke. “The keeper on the Mountain told me before I left that you were to be one of my companions and that we were to travel to the valley of the kailum where we will meet the others. He also said that our first task would be to retrieve another key, and that to be successful in this task, we must all be completely inexperienced when we enter the place where the key is; this may explain the sudden change of plan,” Blakstar said, one hand on the hilt of his sword, the other fingering one of the flasks at his belt.

Thal started to think, and the color returned to his face. “My mother said that the signal for my departure was your arrival, something we were not, at first, expecting until fall, but then the date was changed to earlier this spring.” He looked up at the kortexi. “Did something happen to delay your departure?”

Blakstar’s eyebrows wrinkled. “Yes, but I don’t know what. The Wesento called me to his study three weeks ago and told me to be ready to leave the following morning; he did not tell me why the plans had changed, only that urgency was required. Then things happened to delay my departure: problems with making armor and my horse going lame. I finally left eight days ago.”

Thal nodded and looked away. “You said ‘another key,’ which implies that you already have a key: what is it?”

The kortexi drew his sword. “This is the first key.”

“Am I right in guessing that your sword is the sword of Sir Karble, the first kortexi?”

Blakstar nodded.

“May I examine it?” Thal asked, holding out his hands.

The kortexi reversed the sword, holding it out for Thal. Thal started to accept it, when Kalamar’s voice shouted from above.

“Thal, have you two eaten yet?” Kalamar asked. “When I said there was little time, I meant that you needed to hurry,” he went on sounding impatient, “that there was no time for conversations or questions: hurry!” he repeated with more insistence.

Thal jumped, jerking his hands back. “Sorry, Blakstar, my desire for knowledge. . . .” He left it hanging.

Blakstar smiled, slipped his sword back into its scabbard, then tucked his gauntlets behind his belt. “Lead the way.”

Thal turned and ran out of the room and across the hall, then moved into the dining room. Blakstar followed him into the room in time to see him remove a purple aura, a ditistas, Thal noted, to keep the food fresh and hot, covering two trays, both heaped with food. Thal pulled out a chair for the kortexi, then made himself a sandwich with eggs, bacon, cheese, and some new lettuce.

“I’ll just grab this and go find out if there is anything else to be done before we go,” Thal said, and took a bite of his breakfast as he turned to go.

Blakstar nodded, then began to eat. Thal ran up the stairs to the fourth floor and tapped on the door to his father’s study, then entered.

Kalamar leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. “I dreamed last night of Melbarth; he came to me to bring me a message about you and your future companions. He told me that you are the chosen of the One, and that I should send you directly to Shigmar this morning. I asked why you should go by an orthek that uses much energy, and he told me that you, the chosen of the One, had to be inexperienced to complete your first task: if you travel by normal means to Shigmar, you will gain too much experience, and the more experience you gain before entering the place of the task, the greater your chances of failure. The teka was created to prevent Gar or his servants from retrieving what has been hidden there since the beginning.”

Thal sat down hard on his usual chair in front of the desk. “The kortexi was told exactly the same thing,” he said in a surprised whisper, “and also that we are going to retrieve a second key, his sword is the first key: how many keys are there?”

Kalamar pointed to the sandwich, forgotten in Thal’s hand. “That won’t give you any sustenance, if you don’t eat it. You’ll need to gather your things, along with a portable reagent pack,” he said, pointing to the worn leather case sitting on his desk.

Thal took another bite from his sandwich, chewed fast and swallowed. “But that is yours, if I take it, what will you use?”

“I have no need of a travel pack,” the old maghi replied, “you will need it far more than I. The time to gather your things and saddle your horses should be enough for me to finish my preparations.”

Thal took and swallowed another bite while his father spoke, struggling to digest more than just the food. “You haven’t answered my question,” he noted petulantly around another mouthful.

Kalamar sighed. “Three–three for the three original orders; the seklesem came later. Now gather your things, and do not forget your study books.” Thal thought his father looked grayer than normal as he turned his attention back to the scroll he studied.

Thal knew better than to question further, although many questions occurred to him, one rising to the surface of his thoughts: why so sudden? He closed the door quietly after picking up the leather case, then moved into his own study. He gathered his things while still biting from his sandwich, pondering the question, and descended to his bedroom. There, he washed his hands, having finished his breakfast, grabbed some spare clothes, his bedroll, and stuffed it all into his saddlebags, which he found sitting on his bed: trust his mother to think of everything, as he found the things he had forgotten already inside. She had even left a belt–her old traveling belt–with his rod already there. He buckled it on, then picked up his saddlebags and left his room. As he passed the dining room, he said that he was going to the stable to saddle the horses. He started to saddle his own horse, a white and chestnut mare named Marble, as he was more familiar with her harness. By the time he had finished, he heard Blakstar enter behind him, and turned to find him carrying another sandwich and a mug.

“I thought you might want something more to eat,” Blakstar said, “and I thought you could eat while I saddle Wingfoot.”

“Thanks,” Thal said, accepting the mug and sandwich, “although as host, I should be doing that for you.” He took a drink of milk and a bite of the sandwich.

Blakstar smiled and moved to his mount. “Since we are going to be traveling together for a long time, likely most of our lives, I did not think that I was really a guest and you my host.”

Thal laughed. “Sound reasoning, I should have thought of it.” He continued to eat and drink while Blakstar saddled his horse. “I did learn,” Thal said between bites, “that there are three keys–one for each order–and that my master is sending us to Shigmar with a teleport orthek.”

Blakstar was just buckling his saddle. “But aren’t there four orders?”

“I misspoke,” Thal answered, “I should have said, the three original orders, as the seklesem came later,” Thal replied. “Since the first key is your sword, and it is the sword of the original kortexi, I’d bet that we have to retrieve something of either Shigmar or Melbarth.” Thal finished his sandwich and milk before continuing. “Kailum of Shigmar carry staves, so I’d bet that one of the keys is the Staff of Shigmar, which would mean that the third would be Melbarth’s Rod.” Thal’s eyes went wide. “Do you suppose . . . ,” he began, but was cut-off by the voice of Kalamar as he stepped into the stable behind Thal.

“We don’t have time for your supposes, Thalamar,” Kalamar said. He turned to the kortexi, who had just finished saddling his mount. “Welcome, Sir Blakstar eli-kerdu-ghebi. I wish there were time to hear your tale; I’d love to know how you came to bear the devices and gear of Sir Karble.”

Blakstar looked surprised, but still managed to bow. “Greetings, Hierarch. I had no idea this was your home.”

Thal was stunned for the second time that morning. “You know each other?”

“Yes,” Kalamar replied, “we were introduced when the Great Council met last fall in Karble.” He turned from Thal to Blakstar. “We had an inkling that you might be the one, but we have not time to discuss this further. Lead your mounts around to the telepad.”

Come back next time for another Poet’s Corner, and the following day to see what happens at the tower after Thal and Blakstar leave. Chosen of the One: Book 1 of The Redemption is available as an ebook from Smashwords for free. Good reading!