Chosen of the One: Chapter 11, Part 1

23 January 2026

In today’s installment of the first book of our epic fantasy, Chosen of the One, we witness the first meeting of the three keyholders: Klaybear, Thal, and Blakstar; the kortexi heals a pair of their fellows, one of them Klaybear’s long-lost older brother. . . . (10 March 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 11, Part 1

The kailu order is governed by the mekala, an assemblage of all kailum that can be gathered to the school within three days of being summoned. Full initiates into the order can only be tried and punished for crimes against the order by the mekala, while matters of school discipline are decided by the council only, consisting of the Headmaster, who chairs the council, along with the five masters. . . .

from Laws of the Kailum

The door opened, and the white-robed novice stepped out of the way, allowing the two young wethem to enter the room. The first was tall and gangly, wild red hair framing his long face; the second was nearly as tall but better built, garbed in white and gold, bearing devices Myron recognized at once as the symbols of Sir Karble, the first kortexi. To Myron’s eyes, the kortexi glowed golden, but there was a hint of darkness at his chest and loins. When Klaybear turned and saw the newcomers, he was hurled back into his chair by some unseen hand, eyes wide, staring, and blank. The wounds on his hand and forehead pulsed with angry red light; a low groan rumbled from deep within the fallen kailu’s chest.

Myron, followed closely by the kortexi, Sir Blakstar, rushed to Klaybear’s side.

“What’s happened?” Blakstar asked.

“Seeing your two faces,” Myron replied, “has thrown him into his vision, where he re-sees your parts in it.”

“Those wounds?” the kortexi asked.

“Given to him by Gar, himself,” the Headmaster replied, “and we have been unable to heal them.”

Without pausing to think, Blakstar removed the special flask from his belt, pulled out the stopper, and poured some of the contents into Klaybear’s open right palm. Klaybear went rigid, and the liquid in his hand started to steam and glow brilliant gold. In seconds the liquid evaporated, and the wound had closed, leaving only a thin red line in the shape of the mark. Myron took Klaybear’s head and tilted it back; Blakstar poured some of the liquid over the wound on his forehead. Again, Klaybear went rigid, and the liquid began to steam and glow. When it evaporated, the wound was closed and only a thin red line in the shape of the mark remained.

“Open his mouth,” Blakstar said.

Myron did, and the kortexi poured some of the liquid in; Klaybear swallowed eagerly, and Blakstar put a hand on his shoulder when the fallen kailu tried to leap to his feet.

“Peace, my friend,” Blakstar said, “the Waters of Life are potent to those who drink them for the first time.”

“Of course!” Myron exclaimed. “The Waters of Life, carried by Sir Karble and the answer to the riddle.”

“What happened?” Klaybear asked, looking around in surprise.

“No time for that now,” Myron replied and took the kortexi by the arm and led him to the two who lay sick. “Her first,” he said, pointing to the seklesa, “she has been infected longer.”

“Where is the wound?” Blakstar asked.

“She was forced to drink it, so her mouth.”

Blakstar nodded, and Myron opened her mouth, allowing the kortexi the space to pour some of the Waters in. Like Klaybear, she swallowed eagerly. Thalamar and Klaybear came and stood at the other side of her bed, watching. The seklesa went rigid, then started to thrash violently.

“Hold her!” Myron barked, grabbing her arm to keep her still, then added, “don’t use your right hand, Klaybear.”

Her convulsions lasted for a minute and then she went limp; steam and brilliant golden light emanated from her, and as the steam rose from her skin, her skin was whole and healed, but as the steam cleared, the blackness reasserted itself, and the right half of her face, although healed, deformed. The hair on the right half of her head fell out, the right side of her face wrinkled and shrunk. Blakstar tried the Waters again, pouring a little on her face. The liquid hissed and steamed, but a scream ripped from the twisted grin the right half of her mouth had become.

“No more!” she squealed, a high, tearing sound that was painful to hear. “It’s killing me!” She went suddenly limp and silent.

The four wethem stood stunned, not sure what had happened. Then Klaybear broke the silence.

“It is as I have seen,” Klaybear whispered.

Myron shook himself out of his momentary stupor. “We must help Delgart.”

“Is that wise,” Klaybear protested, “seeing what effect it has had on her?”

“He’ll die if we do nothing,” Myron replied.

Klaybear sighed and nodded. Blakstar and Myron turned to the other bed; Thal and Klaybear walked around the beds to the other side.

“At least we know not to apply any Waters after they have finished,” Thal said softly.

“Where is the wound?” the kortexi asked.

“Left side,” Myron replied, pulling the blanket off to reveal his bandaged side.

Blakstar waited until the Headmaster pulled up the bandage, then poured some of the Water over the wound. The Waters steamed and glowed, but before the wound closed, a thin finger-length rod of red metal slid out of the wound.

“What is that?” Blakstar asked. Thal leaned over the bed, then reached across to pick it up.

“No!” Myron exclaimed, and the white maghi’s hand jerked back. Myron knocked the red sliver off with the heel of his staff, and the sliver burst into flames when it struck the stone floor. Klaybear took the pitcher of water from the stand next to Delgart’s bed and poured it over the flaming metal sliver. The water hissed and bubbled, but the metal continued to burn.

“We cannot stop for that,” Myron said and turned back to Delgart. “Give him a drink, Sir Blakstar.”

Myron opened Delgart’s mouth, and Blakstar poured the Waters in, Delgart drinking eagerly. Delgart went into convulsions, the four wethem held him down, and after a minute, he went limp, steam with brilliant, golden light rising from the skin, healing Delgart’s flesh. Again, the darkness re-asserted itself. This time, however, the left side of Delgart’s face deformed, his hair falling out, mouth twisting, face wrinkling and shrinking. Delgart went limp. The metal sliver burned itself out, leaving only a black spot on the floor.

“At least we know one thing,” Thal remarked and pointed to the dark spot on the stone floor, “we know how this wethi was infected.”

Myron walked over to the spot and prodded it with his staff. “Not even any ash to examine,” he said to himself.

“Who would do this,” Klaybear began, responding to Thal, “and why?”

“Well ‘who’ is easy,” Thal said, “Gar through his agents. The ‘why’ is a bit more difficult, although if pressed, I would say to prevent us,” he pointed to all in the room but Myron, “from doing whatever it is we need to do.”

Myron looked up from the floor. “I think we know something else,” he said, then his voice grew cold and hard, “we have a traitor among us.”

Blakstar’s hand, having just finished replacing the special flask on his belt, went to his sword; Thal and Klaybear looked at Myron.

“How do you know that?” Thal asked.

“Did Delgart look like he did this morning, in this room, yesterday when you rescued him?” Myron asked Thal.

“No . . . ah, yes, I see,” Thal replied, “there must be a traitor in Shigmar, in this very place.”

“How do you figure that?” Klaybear asked, eyebrow rising.

“When I rescued this wethi–Delgart–from the ghelem, yesterday, and Myron brought him here, he was only wounded in the side, from the shipwreck, which means that he was given the disease by means of that metal sliver after arriving here in the school, so someone inside must have given it to him, during the night.”

“As I told Klaybear and his wife, earlier, he was fine when I left him in the sixteenth hour last night and found with the disease this morning in the 1st hour,” Myron said. “I sent Klare to inquire who had been in here during the night.”

Klaybear looked toward the door, an action that caused Myron to grin, but he covered it with one hand.

Thal noticed Klaybear’s action and looked at him. “Did you hear something?”

“No,” Klaybear replied.

“Then why did you look at the door?” Thal asked, eyebrows rising.

“My wife has perfect timing,” Klaybear replied, “she always shows up just when you need her, so when my master mentioned her, I expected her to walk through that door,” he finished, pointing to the door.

The door opened, but Klare did not enter. Master Healer Avril slipped in and softly closed the door. He looked at Myron. “I’m surprised you don’t have this room warded,” he said quietly.

Myron tapped his staff on the floor, whispered, and a gray shimmering globe expanded to cover the room. “We were healing, and I forgot to re-establish the ward.”

Avril winked at Klaybear. “That’s it then,” the Master Healer noted, a grin twitching on his lips, “first sign he’s slipping into dotage.”

Myron smiled. “I’ve had a few shocks this morning,” he said, “we all have. First Klaybear, then Delgart contracting the malady, these two showing up with the Waters of Life, and the Waters failing to heal them completely,” he pointed at each in turn and finished by pointing at the beds.

Avril moved to the beds, his hands now glowing with bright green light. As Klare had done earlier, Avril’s hands lifted the darkness for a moment from each body, but then the darkness slipped back. Avril’s brow wrinkled, then he moved to Klaybear, hands still glowing. A similar darkness peeked out of the younger kailu’s hand and forehead, then slipped back. He turned to the kortexi, hands going over his body and stopping over his chest. The same darkness rose from his chest for a moment before slipping back. Without comment, he moved to Thal, hands moving over him and hovering above his head, darkness slipping out and back. He turned to Myron.

“They’ve all been afflicted,” he said, “although in different ways.”
Myron nodded in agreement.

“The kortexi has the mark,” Avril continued, “written on his chest, and a different mark above his loins.” He turned to Thal. “With him it is much more subtle,” he went on, “it is part of the patterns of his mind, hidden within the matrix and nearly impossible to detect. With the two in the beds, their faces together have been twisted into half the shape of the mark. Who else is supposed to be part of this group?”

“Klaybear’s twin brother, Rokwolf,” Myron said, “and Meekor and Varla’s son, who Klaybear found wounded outside of town last night.”

“That must be where Klare went,” Avril said, “I mentioned my suspicions and she must have gone home to check him or bring him here. If only there were more time,” the Master Healer finished to himself. . . .

Come back tomorrow for another Poet’s Corner, and on Monday for another installment of Chosen of the One: Book 1 of The Redemption, or if you prefer not to wait, download the entire volume in ebook format from Smashwords; if you prefer print, purchase it from the link provided. Good reading!