Staff of Shigmar: Prologue, Part 2

5 March 2026

We return for the second installment of the Prologue to Book 2, Staff of Shigmar. We meet many of the major characters in the story, witnessing the wedding reception of Klaybear and Klarissa. (21 July 2014) Links to Glossary Book 2, Book 1

Prologue, Part 2

Atno 3523, Early Summer

The westering sun illuminated the yard and its perfectly trimmed trees, bushes, and lawn, decorated to celebrate the joining of one of the village’s daughters, one who had left a decade ago to study at the kailu school in Shigmar, a day’s ride to the south and founded by the village’s most famous son. The lilacs around the yard were in full bloom, perfuming the already pine-scented air; garlands of wildflowers hung from the lower branches of all the trees and adorned the white cloths draped over the many trestle tables that had been set up around the yard. The day had been perfect, warm without becoming too hot, clear, with a gentle breeze moving among the guests and cooling them. The entire village attended, as the bride and her family were well-known and well-loved, but they were nearly overwhelmed and overawed by those who attended from the kailu school, since several of the masters had come, including Headmaster Myron and Master Healer Avril, for the groom and bride were apprenticed to these two masters. There was a move by the bride’s family and the villagers, when the masters arrived, to give them special treatment, but the masters would have nothing to do with it, reminding all that only two would receive special treatment on this day, which was the reason all had gathered.

The village council had declared the day a holiday, and so after the morning had passed in frantic preparations, the afternoon passed more pleasantly, eating the food brought by all while the meat was turned on spits over great open pits, dancing to music played by all who brought instruments and could play, or just sitting and enjoying each others’ company. The bride and groom, and their attendants, spent the first hour at the entrance, greeting all who came, accepting gifts, and listening to their advice, some of which was quite blunt. At times, the groom, and his twin brother, although they did not look alike, were embarrassed by the talk, their faces bright red; the bride’s eyes kept darting to her new husband, a wicked grin playing at the corners of her mouth, which caused the advice-giver to laugh out loud. Once most of the guests had arrived, the bride and groom began to move among their guests, and if they ever loitered too long in one place, the bride’s mother would shoo them onward, and so the afternoon passed pleasantly.

“Where’s he gone?” Klare asked, noticing that her brother-in-law, who should have been with her husband, was missing. She adjusted her hair before she and her bridesmaid moved on.

Sutugno looked around. “I think he keeps trying to catch her alone,” she said with a hint of bitterness, re-adjusting Klare’s hair and the flower wreath she wore.

Klare made a clicking sound with her tongue. “Foolish boy!” Klare noted under her breath. “I’ve tried to talk to him; Klaybear’s tried; I even had father try, but he won’t listen.”

Sutugno was only half-listening; she was watching the seklesa as she continued to flirt with one of the young wethem of the village. “He is foolish if he cannot see,” she whispered to herself, then realized Klare had spoken to her. “Sorry,” she said.

Klare looked at her for a moment, then turned to look at the seklesa with blue-black hair; she was flirting outrageously with Kleetor, and there was Rokwolf, watching her. Klare shook her head. “I feel about her the way I feel about you,” she noted.

Sutugno looked at Klare. “That’s an odd thing to say: what do you mean?” she asked.

Klare’s eyes narrowed. “You know I’ve always felt like you were a long lost sister,” she replied, turning and smiling at Sutugno.

Sutugno returned the smile. “I know, and I agree,” she added.

Klare turned back the direction they had been looking. “I’ve felt the same way about her,” she went on, “since I met her, but I do not understand how that could be, since my husband,” she paused, and looked at Klaybear, who looked uncomfortable speaking with a pair of village elders, then she looked at Sutugno, “how strange that word sounds in my own mouth.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Sutugno laughed. “You were saying?”

“I was?” Klare said, sounding distracted. “Oh, yes, I was saying since my husband has only one brother, and there are two of you: he cannot be joined to both, and she treats him as I do, as a brother.”

“And he doesn’t want me,” Sutugno said bitterly.

Klare looked at her, face concerned. “I’m not so sure that is true,” she said. “There is something odd about his desire for her, something unnatural about it, almost as if . . . ,” but her voice trailed off, and what she thought, she did not say.

Sutugno sniffed once and opened her mouth to speak again, but was cut off by another voice.

“Klarissa!” Klare’s mother snapped. “What are you two doing, standing here, staring and whispering to each other? You are supposed to be speaking to your guests!”

“Mother!” Klare jumped. “We were just wondering where Rokwolf had slipped off to, and we were just moving on.”

Leukila smiled at her daughter, but there was a tightness around her eyes that Klare noticed.

Klare touched Sutugno’s arm. “Better go rescue Klaybear,” she noted in a low voice, “and see if the two of you can find his missing twin.”

Sutugno looked at Klare a moment then nodded and left Klare and Leukila.

“Mother,” Klare said, taking Leukila’s arm, “I haven’t had anything to eat or drink in a long while, and you look famished.”

Leukila’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her daughter. After a moment, she replied, “I am a little thirsty.”

Mother and bride moved together to one of the serving tables, where one of their neighbors was currently taking a turn serving; she filled them cups and congratulated Klare, then turned to help others. Klare and her mother moved to one side.

“Mother,” Klare began without preamble, “something is troubling you.”

Leukila looked shocked. “What a thing to say,” she replied, “on this day, of all days!”

“Mother, I can see there is something bothering you.”

Leukila shook her head. “No, I am fine.”

“Mother, don’t force me to use my powers,” Klare threatened, “to delve into your mind and discover what is troubling you.”

“Klarissa! How dare you speak to your mother that way!” Leukila replied. “You stop this at once, or I will call your father, and he will put you over his knee and smack some sense into you!”

Klare laughed. “Here? At my age? Really, mother, you should confine your threats to ones that are actually possible. Besides, I do not think Daddy would paddle me today: he might give Klaybear instructions. . . .”

“Klarissa! You keep a civil tongue!” Leukila exclaimed. “At least in front of our guests,” she added and laughed.

Klare smiled sheepishly. “Now will you tell me what is bothering you?” she asked.

Leukila looked at her daughter closely. “I have to keep reminding myself that you are no longer a little girl,” she noted with a hint of sadness, “since you spent most of the last ten years away from home,” she idly straightened the garland crowning Klare’s head, “which is where my trouble began.”

Klare frowned. “You didn’t want me to study at Shigmar?” she asked.

“No, that’s not it,” Leukila replied, “but we realized then that this day would come, the day when you would be joined to another kailu, and we would not . . . ,” but she stopped and turned away from her daughter. “It does not matter.”

Klare suddenly realized what was upsetting her mother. “Mother, I am so sorry,” she said, “I never realized . . . ,” she went on, but Leukila cut her off.

“Let it go, Klarissa,” Leukila said, “it does not matter; what matters is that you have done the right thing, and you have kept the vows you made to your order. That means more to me than . . . ,” she paused, “well, than anything else.”

“Tears already?” a new voice, the voice of Klare’s father, asked. “You promised, my dear, that there would be no tears until the celebration was over.”

Leukila pointed at Klare. “It is her fault, Blekan,” she said, “she extorted them out of me. I think you should put her over your knee!”

Blekan coughed. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat, “I think she’s too old for that, my dear, but if she wants me to, I could speak to her husband about it . . . ,” he left it hanging, exchanging a knowing grin with his wife.

Klare frowned at them both. “You both need to leave him alone,” she said firmly, “it is not his fault that his mother died when he and Rokwolf were born, and his father was injured and unwell after that, and so never got around to teaching him those things.” She looked to where Klaybear stood talking with Sutugno, Rokwolf, and several villagers, and a wicked grin crept across her face. “I’ll handle the rest of it,” she whispered to herself.

Both her parents were laughing at her; she looked at them, a surprised look replacing the grin she had been wearing. “What is so funny?” she asked.

Her parents looked at each other; her father spoke first. “I really think this falls into your realm, my dear.” He smiled.

“Thank you, my love,” Leukila replied, “I think this one does.” She smiled the exact same smile that Blekan wore. “There is a huge difference between knowledge and experience,” she said.

Klare’s look of incomprehension caused both her parents to laugh. “What are you saying?” Klare asked.

“Think about it,” Leukila said, and she kissed Klare on one cheek.

At the same time, her father kissed her other cheek. “It will come to you,” Blekan said, and they turned away from her to rejoin the celebration, “sooner or later,” he added as they walked away.

Klare thought about it while her parents walked away, then decided that she needed some more experience, so she took a drink from her cup and put it on the table, then flew into her husband’s arms, kissing him until she felt her knees growing weak, and the cheers and clapping of their guests filled her ears. Even before she opened her eyes, she could feel her husband’s face pulsing with embarrassment; she grinned up at him mischievously, then turned and looked for her parents. Both were smiling, and her father nodded to her.

“Klare,” Klaybear hissed, “what are you doing . . . in front of all these people?”

Klare looked back into his deep, brown eyes, ran her fingers through his curly brown hair, and spoke. “This is only the beginning,” she said softly.

Come back Saturday for another installment of Book 2 in which we will see the current, miserable state of the twins’ older brother, Delgart, just before our story begins. Get the ebook version of this book free from Smashwords! If you prefer print, purchase your copy using the link provided. Good reading!