The incident had left its mark on Christill. Everywhere he looked he saw shadows darting from view and try as he might he could not drive the fright from his limbs. He continued to follow the caravan, but could find no sleep the next night. Each time he closed his eyes, the painful flashbacks of the previous night returned. The strange voice lingered in his ears, repeating itself over and over, slowly driving him senseless. In the faint light of the moon Christill sat shivering against a wet tree trunk, though whether from the cold or from the haunting images in his mind he was unsure.
When morning broke he felt slightly renewed. The chill of the night had not helped to calm his nerves, yet the welcoming warmth of the sun had raised his spirit. He had caught up to the caravan, but now that it was in reach he found himself reluctant to approach it. What would he say?
Seeing the Queen's men resuming their march, he decided to follow until an opportunity presented itself. Further south they travelled on the coastal road, passing outposts and farms along the way. Christill kept the caravan in sight, but held his distance as he followed them. The road was busy with farmers and merchants on their way to Andron, allowing Christill to remain overlooked.
At the end of the eighth day the caravan stopped in a small forested area adjacent to the Crescent Lake. Christill made his own camp closer to the lake itself and deeper within the trees. His meagre food supplies were running surprisingly, thin with only a small pouch of hard bread and dried fruits left. He would need to stop and purchase more soon or be forced to catch his own food. Seeing as he was only carrying the knife that Oswald had given him, that was out of the question.
Night crept into the forest quicker than Christill had expected and soon he was sitting against the trunk of an ancient oak, fighting away haunting images once again. Realizing that sleep would not find him tonight, Christill decided to creep up to the caravan to catch a glimpse of Dievu. He moved through the scrappy bushes, heading in the direction of the caravan. Gradually traces of light flickered through the bracken, and he slowed his approach. At this point Christill was thankful for the hunting lessons that had taught him to keep his steps silent.
Each careful stride drew him closer to the camp. He reached a twisted and gnarled tree which was suitable enough to climb and knew that moving any further would be too risky. He darted up the tree swiftly, its knotty form keeping him hidden. Finding a comfortable perch, he separated two branches, giving him a view of the campsite.
Even from this distance he could see several fires burning around the carriage. Soldiers sat and slept in any patch of soft ground that they could find. Christill noticed that only half of the soldiers guarding the carriage slept. The remainder stood on guard or around the fires, speaking softly. His eyes were drawn to the many roasting fowl and other wild game hovering above the campfires. The juicy aroma rose with the smoke and filled the campsite. Christill contemplated an attempt to steal one but knew he would be risking his life.
He tried to find Dievu amongst the soldiers but had no luck. Finally he decided that the search was hopeless, as Dievu was probably in the carriage, fast asleep. So he made sure that none of the soldiers were looking and leapt down from the tree. He then made his way back through the forest, taking care to create as little noise as possible.
The splendid aroma of roasted meat followed Christill as he walked solemnly back to his campsite. His stomach gurgled in protest and he let out a sigh. He was passing through a thick bush when something flashed past his field of vision. He instinctively stopped dead still and drew his dagger. Crouching low, he took small, measured steps forwards. The blur flew by him again, this time closer. Christill planted his right foot behind himself for support and brought the dagger in his right hand back, ready to strike.
The blur swiftly darted across the forest floor once more. Christill did not lash out; he was waiting and watching, calculating his enemy's movements. He could not recognize it and there was something unnatural about the speed at which it moved. Yet he could sense something when it passed him. A sensation that raised the hairs on his arms and a sent a cold chill into his shoulders.
Whatever this thing was, it now appeared more often, darting in and out of the bushes. Christill focussed all of his attention on the blur, blocking out the other noises and sights in the forest. It flew past him again and Christill struck out with his dagger. His arm was hit with such a force the he was sent spinning into a tree. He rose as quickly as he could and raised his fists. His dagger was gone and in the dark he could not see where it had fallen.
"What trickery is this?" he shouted. "Show yourself!"
He waited several moments, but there was no reply. The blur had disappeared. He moved cautiously back to where he was standing to look for his dagger.
"Do not waste your time searching in vain for something that cannot help you," a voice called out of the forest.
Christill jumped with a start and turned to face the speaker. Leaning against a large moss covered tree was Dievu, balancing Christill's dagger on his fingers. His hypnotizing blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. He was no longer wearing his Karmanian armour, now adorned in a simple brown tunic with green embroidery.
Christill stood up straight and proud. He held out his hand. "Could I have my dagger back?"
Dievu looked at the dagger, then walked over to him. He place it hilt first into Christill's outstretched hand then suddenly disappeared. Within a blink he reappeared behind Christill and placed his surprisingly strong grip around Christill's head, holding it tightly.
"One false step and with a twist of my wrist I could shatter your neck and send you back to the Third Plane," whispered Dievu. "So you see why I told you that your dagger could not help you."
Christill stood perfectly still, his heart beating nervously in his throat. He then felt Dievu's grip release and the dagger slip out of his hand. Surprised, he looked up to see Dievu standing against the same tree holding his dagger once more. He quickly glanced behind and then back at Dievu. "How did you do that?" he asked, astonished.
Dievu raised his eyebrows. "Do what exactly?"
"Disappear and reappear. Move as quick as lightning."
Dievu laughed and began to play with Christill's dagger, twirling it gracefully in between his fingers. "Tell me," he began in a questioning tone. "How do you know that I did anything at all? Is it not possible that I was simply standing against this tree the whole time? I was standing here just before, with your dagger in my hands, and I am doing so now. How can you be so sure that I moved from my spot at all? Perhaps it was an illusion."
"I felt your hands on my head, heard your whisper in my ear," replied Christill, confused by the question.
"That may be so," nodded Dievu. "But what else was it that made you so certain that I was moving about you?"
Christill's eyes narrowed. Dievu was playing with him. What else?, he thought to himself. Dievu watched intently and smiled.
"I felt something when you passed by me," said Christill. "A force of some sort."
"Very good, Christill. You saw the question for what it truly was, and then saw the world for what it truly is. You saw past the physical boundaries of Fellarrnur that most men live under."
Christill's eyes opened. "How is it that you know my name?"
Dievu shrugged Christill's question away. "I know many things. But that is not important now," he continued. "Do you know what it is that you felt when I passed you?"
Christill shook his head. "No."
"You cannot give me a proper answer if you do not think about it. Now answer me again! Do you know what you felt?" Dievu repeated, sternly.
Christill sighed. Vivid memories of the Disciple's painful lessons came back into his mind. He thought about the sensation that he had felt when Dievu had passed close by. A tingling feeling on his skin, and a sensation of raw heat coming from Dievu's body. "I am not sure what it was," said Christill honestly.
Dievu frowned. "Think harder."
What was it? He had felt something unnatura
l and intense pulsating from within Dievu's body. Something foreign, yet very familiar. What was it? He glanced up at Dievu who was staring into his eyes intently. "It was magic."
"Yes," laughed Dievu. "Christill Greyspell, you have come to a realization that students studying in the academies of magic do not fully comprehend until well into their first year."
Christill did not fully understand what that meant but was pleased that he had made a good impression on Dievu.
"You are right. What you felt was pure magic flowing from my body as I used it to speed through the forest. Tell me though, what is magic?"
"A power that allows you to conjure illusions, and perform normally impossible tasks," replied Christill confidently.
"Wrong," replied Dievu swiftly. "You answered the wrong question. I asked you what is magic? You explained its use. But do not worry, I did not expect you to know the true answer. Now tell me, what do you know of Teefarrnur?"
Christill, knowing the answer, smiled and answered, "It is the realm of the gods."
Dievu nodded slightly. "Tell me its relationship with those gods."
Christill shrugged his shoulders.
"Very well...tell me of Silphuras Hilke," Dievu continued.
Christill had only briefly heard of this man. "He was a disciple of some note...though that is all I truly know."
"Well that is sad," replied Dievu, shaking his head. "Hilke was the first man to speak directly with the gods on the Third Plane. Born of both Feldonian and Karmanian heritage, his chronicles contain the some of the most valuable information ever recorded. In his most famous book he speaks of the relationship between gods and men. Pay heed to what I tell you now," he added. "The realm of the gods, Teefarrnur, is made up of a raw energy. The countless gods in Teefarrnur are created from this energy and in turn create mortal beings such as us from it. This energy is what we call magic. So what you felt when I sped past you was that raw power of Teefarrnur surging from my body."
"And Nyrune gives you this magic?" asked Christill.
"Yes," replied Dievu. "Mortals are given the ability to use this power by the four guardian gods of Kovi. Those that are worthy and who choose to speak with their god on the Third Plane may be granted the ability to use magic on Fellarrnur."
Christill listened on intently.
"I know that you seek this power for yourself. I have seen the events of your life. I have read your mind," said Dievu.
Christill gasped. "It was you!"
"Yes...It was I who entered your mind that night. It was a test, Christill, to see if you were worthy."
"Worthy of what?" asked Christill, furiously. "Do you know what I had to endure that night?"
"You needed to be worthy of my time and effort. I imagine it was hard for you to relive the pain of your past, but only through acceptance can one reach a peaceful state of mind. You must accept the events of your past life and learn to live with them. And trust me it is not every day that I allow commoners to learn the truths of magic. Most are not strong enough to understand the lessons that I teach."
Christill could not believe how indifferent Dievu was to his pain. He forced himself to hold back his frustration and took several quick breaths, his fists clenched at his side. "How is it that you knew I was following you?"
Dievu shook his head once more. "You know nothing of the Karmanians. You are not exactly a master of stealth. I spotted you the moment you left Andron's gates."
"Yet you did not approach me."
"Another test," said Dievu. "If you were interested in seeking out my help, I knew that you would endure the long trek to follow me."
Christill punched the tree next to him, letting out his pent up frustration. "This is a game to you. My whole life, everyone has used me as their pawn. I have been put down, thrown around and laughed at every second I have lived. You are exactly the same as all the others." He spat on the ground and stormed away, stomping heavily through the forest.
"Turn around!" boomed Dievu's voice, amplified by his magic.
Christill stopped and shuddered as he felt the anger in the air around him.
"You struggle with the uncontrolled hatred and resent inside you. But you are nothing more than a child! How long will you walk away from everyone and everything and use your anger as an excuse to reach your true potential?"
Christill had no response.
"If you continue on this path you will find yourself hopelessly alone. Each person is responsible for their own destiny. So cease your self pity. The world is no longer out to harm you, Christill. It is time you woke up to this and began acting like a man."
Shame quickly replaced Christill's anger and he found himself embarrassed by his actions.
Dievu then appeared in front of him holding out the knife. "If you take this knife and leave, you will forgo any chance you will ever have of being granted the right to wield magic. No one in Feldom would allow you to join the Academy of Skiye. Come with me and I will take you to Karmena. If the gods grant you luck the Council of Elders will permit your enrolment into Nyrune's Academy."
This was the opportunity he had hoped for, yet he could not shake the suspicion in his thoughts. Dievu's offer was too sudden. "You promise me the ability to do what you can with Nyrune's magic?" he asked.
"I promise you nothing. If the Council grants you entry into the Academy you will learn with our brightest. If you can prove yourself worthy, then you may be allowed to speak to Nyrune to convince her of your worth. That is all that I can offer. If you accept, come to our campsite at first light," said Dievu. He handed Christill the dagger and in a flash disappeared.
Christill gripped the hilt of his dagger hard. "Very well Dievu, I will take up your challenge." He walked slowly back to his camp, his mind full of questions.
Not far away, peering through a hollow trunk, Dievu's eyes narrowed slightly. "Excellent!"