Chosen of the One: Chapter 13, Part 1

2 February 2026

In today’s installment of the first book in our epic fantasy, Chosen of the One, we begin Chapter 13, learning into what trouble Klare has gotten herself. . . . (14 April 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 13, Part 1

There is nothing worse than waiting blind for a battle to begin. . . .

Attributed to Fereghen Wulfrik, ruled 983-1027

Klare frowned as she left the school, unsatisfied by the response of the kailu on duty, who had assured her that there was nothing in the record of anyone entering or leaving the room where her brother-in-law rested last night, or where she had just left her husband and Headmaster Myron; the kailu did say that he would make a thorough check of the records and report to Master Avril anything unusual. Klare pulled her hood over her face, not caring for the way the gate guard leered at her as she passed through the wall surrounding the kailu school; most of the people moving through this quarter of Shigmar were heading toward the school and were the older students who lived in the same quarter of the city as she did, but she kept her face hidden as she passed into the southwest quarter, troubled by the events of the previous day and the morning and not wanting to be detained by anyone. Without really looking where she was going, she allowed her feet to carry her to her home, passing quickly inside without a backward glance and closing the door softly behind her. Inside, Klare went at once to the guest room, and seeing that the awemi still slept peacefully, she moved into the kitchen to prepare him something to eat. A few minutes later, she opened the door carrying a tray.

“Good morning,” Klare said pleasantly.

Tevvy opened his eyes and stretched, looking around at his surroundings. “It is good to be whole,” he noted, smiling at her.

“How do you feel?” Klare asked as she set the tray down on the bedside table.

“Quite good,” Tevvy replied, “you must be the mistress?”

Klare smiled sweetly. “I am Klaybear’s wife, Klarissa, but you can call me Klare,” she replied, her hands glowing green as she moved them over Tevvy from head to toe, examining him. When she came back to his head, she focused for a moment and found something that resisted her, as she had found in Delgart and Marilee, a patch of darkness that refused to be moved; however, given her experience with the others, she did not attempt to draw it out.

“You are also a kailu of Shigmar, I see,” Tevvy noted while Klare worked.

Klare did not reply until she had finished, but then she nodded. “Yes, and you appear to be quite healthy and fully healed.”

“Thank you, mistress,” Tevvy replied. “Where is your husband so I can thank him for rescuing me, although he did frighten me at first,” he went on, conversationally. “Have your masters managed to heal those strange marks?”

Klare paused to look at the awemi for a moment before she helped him to sit up and then placed the tray in front of him. “You haven’t told me your name,” she said.

Tevvy looked suddenly surprised. “My mother would be appalled!” he exclaimed. “I am Telvor ven Galagrude, but I’m usually called Tevvy,” he went on. “My father has a school for, uh, scouts in Rykelle; he and my mother used to help Headmaster Myron and Master Avril when they were all younger. Now that I have graduated from the school, father sent me to Headmaster Myron to aid his apprentices in their work, but I have been unable to get into the school and see the Headmaster: the guards will not let me pass, although I have a letter from my father.”

Klare smiled at him, sitting on the end of the bed. “Eat something,” she exhorted him.

“Funny how these things always work out,” she noted softly, almost to herself.

“This smells wonderful,” Tevvy noted, taking up a fork and beginning to eat. He paused when Klare spoke softly to herself. “What do you mean?” he asked, then took a bite of the eggs.

“You have been unable to see the Headmaster,” Klare replied, “and who should rescue you, but the Headmaster’s senior apprentice.”

Tevvy paused again. “Master Klaybear is the Headmaster’s apprentice?” he asked, looking slightly surprised.

Klare nodded. “One of them,” she admitted, “and the most senior of his apprentices. To answer your other questions, no, they have not been able to heal my husband, and I am troubled by the fact, and what we found,” she frowned, looking troubled.

“Anything I can do to help?” Tevvy asked. “It is the least I can do for what you both have done for me, and for helping me to see the Headmaster,” he added, grinning impishly, which made him appear to Klare like a naughty child; this look caused Klare to laugh.

“I don’t know how you can help, Tevvy,” Klare replied, “because I don’t really know what a scout is, beyond the scout of a seklesi patrol, but I sense that you mean something different.”

“Well,” Tevvy began, “we are similar to the scouts in a seklesi patrol. In fact, we spend several months actually working in the field with a seklesi patrol; I was fortunate to have served with your brother-in-law, Rokwolf, and I’m sorry to hear that he is injured; what happened?”

“No, not Rokwolf,” Klare replied. “He and my husband have an older brother, named Delgart, who was taken in a pirate raid on their village many years ago. He was found yesterday, injured, and was brought here for healing.”

Tevvy nodded. “Anyway, a scout of my kind can do more than the regular scout, since I can also sneak into places that are secure, open locks without the key, find and disable traps. . . .” He would have gone on, but was interrupted by a loud knocking on the front door. Both of them looked toward the sound. “Expecting someone?” Tevvy asked, eyebrows rising.

Klare frowned and got up. “No, no one knows I’m here,” she said as she started to leave, “at least I didn’t think anyone knew.”

“Be careful, Mistress Klare,” Tevvy said, looking worried, “I have a bad feeling about this, and my feelings have never been wrong.”

Klare nodded, gave him a reassuring smile, then left the room. When she opened the front door, she was surprised to see Ghelvon’s apprentice standing there, wiping his face with a green silk handkerchief.

“Malkonik, why are you here?” she asked, trying to cover her surprise.

He smirked and put away his sodden handkerchief. “I have a message from your master,” he said, looking past her into the house.

“You? Why would he send you?” she asked incredulously.

“I was available,” he replied, then fell silent, still smirking.

Klare eyed him, her suspicions aroused. “I don’t believe you,” she said after a moment.

He shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he noted, beginning to turn away. “I’ll go back and tell him.”

“What’s the message?” she snapped, suddenly angry at him and his manner.

He stopped and looked back at her. “He wants you to come at once,” he said, the smirk becoming a grin. “My master just discovered a case of that disease you study.”

She looked at him again for a long moment before answering. “I’ll be there shortly,” she said, “once I finish here.”

“He said I am to bring you now,” he noted, his grin widening to show his teeth.

“Fine,” she said, “wait here.” She closed the door, leaving Malkonik waiting on the porch, and went back to their guest room.

“A messenger from the school,” she said on entering, “I have to go back, but I will return and check on you as soon as I can, at least in time to fix you some lunch, but if not, feel free to eat whatever you can find.”

“Don’t worry,” Tevvy replied, “I was well-instructed by my mother to take care of myself.”

“Rest now,” Klare smiled and turned to leave, “and I’ll return as soon as I can.”

Tevvy touched her arm, his small face wrinkled as he looked up at her. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Is the messenger someone you can trust?”

The question, and the concern on Tevvy’s face, caused Klare to pause before she replied. “I’m pretty sure I can trust one of my fellow students,” she noted, gently patting Tevvy’s hand, “and we are inside Shigmar; besides, I, too, can take care of myself,” she added as she left the room.

Klare closed the door to her home and turned to follow Malkonik back to the school.

“You said my master sent you,” Klare noted. “but never explained how he came to select you as a messenger, since you are Master Ghelvon’s apprentice.”

“The case is one of the guards,” Malkonik replied, “and so my master sent me to inform Master Avril, who agreed with my master that I should be sent to you; he said you had been studying this particular disease, and that I should come and get you at once, since my master told him that the disease was in its first stages,” he finished, taking out and mopping his brow with his green silk handkerchief.

Klare watched Malkonik while he spoke, taking note of the way his eyes kept glancing at her and then looking away. Klare stopped suddenly. “Is this another one of your games?” she asked when he stopped and turned.

Malkonik looked at her blankly, the grin sliding off his face. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied, again taking out the green silk handkerchief and wiping the sweat from his brow.

Klare looked at him a moment, noticing his action and look. “Have you forgotten that I am happily married?”

Malkonik’s eyes widened, and then he laughed. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked. “Of course I haven’t forgotten, but you are still arrogant enough to think that I, like the others, still desire you: I came as a messenger, nothing more. If you want to study this case, then come with me; otherwise, I will return and inform your master that you were unwilling to go with me and why!” He turned and walked on.

Klare watched Ghelvon’s apprentice walk away before following, pondering what he had told her; she moved after him, following him into the southern quarter of Shigmar, but stopped when Malkonik turned north instead of entering the school grounds.

“Where are you going?” Klare called to him. “The school is that way,” she added, pointing toward the wall and gate.

Malkonik stopped and looked back at Klare. “I know where the school is,” he replied sarcastically, “but the guard is this way,” he pointed north toward the guards’ west tower.

“Why hasn’t he been taken to the Infirmary, as is the standard procedure?” Klare asked, her hands on her hips.

“The disease was discovered within the hour,” Malkonik replied, “there has not been time to move him.”

Klare frowned. “I’ll look at him once he has been taken to the school,” she noted, taking a step toward the gate.

“And miss the chance to observe the disease in its first moments?” Malkonik noted. “Your master will be disappointed,” he went on, “I’ll tell him when I see him and your patient.” He turned and walked toward the entrance to the west guard tower, not looking back.

Klare hesitated again, watching Malkonik walk away; there was something odd about the whole thing, and she heard again Tevvy tell her to be careful, but then she reminded herself that she was capable of dealing with Malkonik; she hurried after him, catching up to him just as he opened the door and was entering the guard tower. Malkonik waved to the guard on duty, then led Klare through a door and down the stairway to the third sub-level and down a dimly lit hallway.

“This is an odd place for a sick soldier,” Klare noted as they turned a corner and Malkonik rapped on a rusty metal door with his staff. The door opened, and Malkonik grabbed and shoved Klare into the dark chamber ahead of him. All Klare could see in the darkness was two red points of light, close together like eyes, gleaming in front of her. “This is ridiculous!” Klare snapped, speaking the word and causing a magluku to flare above her head. The white light revealed the grinning face of Master Ghelvon where the two points of red light had been, and in the instant she recognized the master’s face, she heard his whispered word, which sent her immediately into blackness.

“You took long enough,” Ghelvon growled after Klare slumped to the floor.

Malkonik wiped the sweat from his face with his green silk handkerchief. “She was suspicious and required convincing,” Malkonik replied.

“Did anyone see you?” Ghelvon asked.

“Only the guard in our employ,” Malkonik answered.

“You have done well, my servant,” Ghelvon noted, “and now you will have the beginning of your reward. Lock the door, and I will teach you the red kailu way of bending the will of another to your own, then inflaming her desire for you, so that she will do anything you ask, and it will please the Great Lord if she does not remember . . . for the present.”

“Oh, my lord,” Malkonik replied, his face transformed and eager, “you are too kind,” he finished in a whisper.

“Come, we will move her to a place where no one else can find her,” Ghelvon noted, “and then we must see to her husband.” . . .

Return again on Wednesday for another installment of our tale. Meanwhile, you can download the entire ebook for free from Smashwords, or purchase a paper copy using the link provided. Good reading!