Xandrian Stone Book 1: Beginning of a Legend (2 page)

At that time I was squeezing and did not hear more of what she was telling me. In fact, I heard nothing and saw only a bright, white light. That light was a lot brighter than the rod had been, but it did not hurt to look into. In fact, it was very comforting and welcoming.

First, there was only that light. Then it started changing, getting a slight bright blue tint and I got the feeling that some consciousness was trying to talk to me."Hello?" I called out. "Hello?"

"Xandrian." I was suddenly standing in a room, in a circle of wizards who were holding hands and whose eyes were glowing bright blue. In fact, there was so much magical energy in that circle that the air itself was glowing slightly blue. "Xandrian." I turned to the speaker, whose entire body was glowing blue. "Yes?" If anything more witty had come to mind, I'd have said it. "I am Eandras. You must be young still, the way you look." "18." "A bit young to hear what you need to know, but this is our only try. So listen carefully." He then laid out a story of death and misery which was awaiting me in my immediate future.

He finished with this: "The future is never fully set. It changes constantly, but there are decisive events which we call 'Hinge' through which the future flows. Those hinges are major points in time which direct the river of time into one of very few new beds, sometimes as few as 2. In between the hinges the river can grow wide, many different paths can be taken, but the general direction will remain the same. The closer to a hinge the river comes the more narrow it becomes again. You are almost upon such a hinge, as I told you earlier. This one is a two-way hinge. These are the only two things that can happen: You succeed, and the colonies will go into a new, bright age of magic. Or you fail and the colonies will cease to exist."

"By telling me, have you not taken influence?" "Theoretically. But after this vision ends you will not remember anything. Knowing what you know now will give you a feeling every now and then, sort of a sixth sense telling you to do something over something else. Trust those feelings. They will guide you along the best path." "I may not always have the luxury to do so." "I know. In those cases, be ready for anything. We trust in you." Those last words sounded farther away, kinda. "The connection seems to be breaking." "Yes, child, you are right. Grow into the man you are destined to be, and save the colonies." "I can't refuse this, I assume?." "The Great Divine has laid out your path, son." "You mean the Supreme Divine?" "Supreme... sounds good. Better." With that, the connection ended.

Little side-note: I remember that conversation now because the gift of foresight has manifested itself in me a couple of years ago. Only after all the events I am going to describe – so that was unfortunate. Then again, it would have made my story much less exciting, so there's that. It foreshadowed itself though, by those feelings Eandras described. They saved my ass many times, in unlikely ways. I know, some of the turns of this story will sound like some writer dreamed them up, sitting in his bedroom and staring at the screen of his computer. They were real.

Ah, digressed again.

Waking up was the weirdest thing. I did not gradually wake, as normal, but suddenly. One moment I was out, the next I was fully awake, alert and aware. I got up, patted some dust off myself and looked at my classification officer who was watching me with a little worry in her face, holding the Classification Rod in her hands. The bright white glowing Classification Rod. "How do you feel?" She asked me. "Great, thank you. What's the verdict?" "Follow me into the office, we'll discuss everything there." We walked to the barracks in the back of the field and I noticed that every single rod was glowing white and everyone was looking at me. Thinking back, I had not seen anyone else being knocked senseless, so what had happened to me must be special.

I also noticed that three officers were lying on the ground, being treated by medics. I had always been able to sense if someone was hurt, but usually after touching them. Now I could tell that those officers were hurt across half the field. Especially one young man who seemed to have lost his eyes. "What happened?" "Some of the Classification Rods overloaded and exploded. Not your fault. Those rods were older, but deemed safe. We're going to revise the criteria for that. Don't … where are you going?" Those last words were spoken to my back, as I had changed direction and was jogging to the worst hurt officer. I sensed excruciating pain, fear, panic, disorientation. Something had to be done to help that poor man.

When I reached him, the medics wanted to be difficult but were waved away by the officer following me. I pushed by the slowly moving medics and gripped the hurt officer's head on both sides. Focusing on his pain, I took it into myself and worked from there. What I omitted earlier, was that healing meant taking the pain of the patient, analyzing it and healing the patient's wound like it was your own. That means that basically the amount of pain you were willing and able to suffer ruled how good a healer you were. There were tricks to dull the pain in yourself, but that influenced the results in a negative way – leading to bones mending at an angle, eyes through which wooden splinters had been driven to stop bleeding, but to never work again, that sort of thing.

I hate pain. With a passion. But I hate even more seeing other people in pain, especially knowing that I can do something about that pain. So I was never afraid to assume the pain of others to heal them. I started with cuts and bruises. Then I worked myself up to a broken finger. That was bad, but I realized that it was really nothing when I encountered my first broken leg. In three places, with a busted knee to top it off. Apparently that farmer had fallen off a harvester which then proceeded to slowly roll over his leg. Fortunately the knives and such that the harvester used to harvest were attached to the front end, or it would have been messy.

So, I was used to lots of pain. What caused me trouble was the mental state of the officer. That farmer had been matter-of-fact, he knew that stuff could happen and in his case did happen and now he'd have to deal with it. The officer was – not a farmer. His fear and despair were so bad that I actually had to find a way to deal with those first, so that I could concentrate on the eyes. I ended up mentally giving him the mother of all slaps and yelling at him to focus. That last bit was aloud, and cause of many rumors and stories. You'll likely have heard one or the other, if you are in the navy yourself.

It did, however, work. He focused just a bit, but that was enough. From the outside it looked like (someone filmed it, so I saw it later) the splinters were pushed out of his eyes and they unfolded themselves, popping into their former forms. Then the lids regrew and closed and I crawled away from him, leaning my back to his desk and burying my face in my hands groaning.

Whenever you heal, then and now, the pain does go away almost instantly for the patient, but not the healer. It always takes a couple of seconds for the perceived pain to dissipate, which all healers describe as the most difficult part. You can do nothing about it, you just have to wait and sit it out. That also means that a healer cannot heal indefinitely, they will require breaks. Rather long breaks after a large healing like busted eyes.

I felt a hand on my arm. "Don't move, a colleague is getting a glass of water for the both of you. My brother is a healer, he told me." The water arrived a bit later, and I sipped it cautiously. It helped put my mind at ease. Also, the worst was over and I was becoming aware of what was going on around us. Apparently a couple of healers had arrived and taken care of the other two wounded, sitting together with glasses of water themselves. When they saw me looking around, they toasted to me and I toasted back. The painful disciplines of magic created a tight relationship between the wizards that nobody from outside of those disciplines could really understand – nor should they. If I was given the choice of replacing the pain with having to dance around half naked and making a total fool of myself, I'd take that choice in a heartbeat. And so would all the others.

But things were – are, actually, as they are and I have always taken bucket loads of solace by the fact that I was actively helping people.

"Let's go, you are not yet hired. And the others would like to continue with the testing, now that everything is all right again." She did smile at me, so I smiled back. "Aye, let's do this." "'Aye'? Read too many old navy stories?" I grinned. "Aye." She sighed and led me to the barracks. Inside, we entered a meeting room with a desk and a couple of chairs around it. "No interview?" She just held the Classification Rod up, which was glowing bright white. "Oh." She pointed to the desk, on which a piece of paper lay. "I'll be outside, you read that and sign it. Otherwise, I'll beat you with this:" she waved the rod, "until you do." She grinned and left.

I felt no ill will or so, just playful messing around. I also felt that she would never hit me, that was just not in her character. How I knew that I did not know, but thinking about it made me wonder. No answer was forthcoming, so I shrugged, sat and read the contract.

STANDARD NAVAL EMPLOYMENT CONTRACT

EMPLOYER: Swiss Federated Space Navy

EMPLOYEE: Xandrian Stone, Omni Wizard, natural, balanced

By signing this document, the EMPLOYEE dedicates no less than TWENTY-FIVE YEARS of his or her life to the service for the EMPLOYER in a willfully entered two-sided contract. The rank of the EMPLOYEE upon signing of this contract will be Cadet.

The EMPLOYEE will carry out the orders he receives from the EMPLOYER in a timely and proper fashion, as long as these orders do not conflict with the Book of Morale Conventions.

Given the nature of the EMPLOYER the EMPLOYEE accepts that the EMPLOYER will at all times attempt to take the EMPLOYEE's personal safety and health into account when giving orders but special situations may inhibit that.

The EMPLOYER will pay the EMPLOYEE the standard salary as defined in the Book of Laws, private sector, as a basis, upon which he will add special salaries as defined in the Book of Laws, private sector, as the EMPLOYEE changes in rank and specialization.

After TWENTY-FIVE YEARS of service the EMPLOYER and EMPLOYEE both may terminate the contract with ONE YEAR's NOTICE to the end of the following year. If either does not do so, the contract will automatically be renewed for a period of FIVE YEARS.

After FIFTY YEARS of service the aforementioned renewal period changes to ONE YEAR.

The Handbook of Service in the Swiss Federated Space Navy is an integrated part of this contract. If the Handbook of Service in the Swiss Federated Space Navy contradicts any part of this contract, the contradicted part of this contract will supersede the Handbook of Service in the Swiss Federated Space Navy.

EMPLOYER HAS SIGNED

EMPLOYEE HAS NOT SIGNED

I chuckled. The Handbook of Service was a tome of several hundred pages that was ever changing. But it could only rule non-essentials, the navy could not be warped by it to something unrecognizable. Both the Book of Morale Conventions and the Book of Laws, private sector were parts of the contract and would supersede the handbook, protecting the contract.

When I put my thumb on the appropriate position the last line of the contract changed to "
EMPLOYEE HAS SIGNED
".

I took a deep breath and stood up. I was SNECed. Cadet Xandrian Stone. I smiled to that.

When the door behind me flew open I was busy dreaming of saving the Swiss Federation from all kinds of evil-doers, so I was caught by surprise when a powerful voice smashed through my daydreams. "Ateeen-TION Cadet!" 'Cadet'. Wow. I whirled around and stiffened myself to the best of my ability. For a reason I never really understood - in retrospect one could almost say that the Supreme Divine smiled on us both that day - the nameplate from the lieutenant in front of me caught my eye immediately: Radaean McGlennan.

Lieutenant McGlennan radiated sincerity, discipline, hardness but no malice or sadism at all. Instantly I respected and liked the lieutenant. He looked at me with what I now know to be his best 'drill face', making me feel very small and cadet-like. I loved that feeling and desperately tried not to grin in happiness. "Wipe that smirk off your face Cadet!" I tried harder.

"Ah, you're hopeless, Cadet! Fall in line and march to the quartermaster's office!" With that he turned to the door and stood still. I neither knew what he meant by "fall in line" nor where the quartermaster's office was. I did doubt, however, that I was supposed to drop to the ground trying to look like a line. The only thing that made sense was that the Lieutenant wanted me follow him, so I moved behind him and tried to stand on an imaginary line extending from him backwards. "Right foot forward-MARCH!" He thumped his right foot on the floor and marched. I failed to start at the same time and had to jog to keep up, then I tried to march in the same rhythm as the Lieutenant. After a few steps I started feeling confident and noticed that the Lieutenant's shoulders were as empty as mine, where the ribbons would be. "File - STAHP!" I thumped into his back, still too focused on marching and looking at the Lieutenant's shoulders. "Sorry, sir." I moved back to be "in line" again as he turned around to punish me with a hard stare. At least what I thought to be "in line". Then it hit me: The candidates I had seen dusting themselves off had misinterpreted the order to fall in line!

I was getting a hang of controlling my face it seemed - the Lieutenant just snorted and turned around.

"Pay attention Cadet! Forward-MARCH!" This time I knew the rhythm of the order and we thumped our feet almost in unison and marched pretty much in step. "Oh, sir, I forgot the contract!" "File - STAHP!" I marched only one step too far this time. He turned. "In running step - MARCH!" I ran.