Chapter 08 - Harbinger

  Reiki Master Havlo

  The parlor doors were shut, sealing the four within. Though drawn back, thick velvet curtains did little to mute the golden afternoon sunlight spilling through the tall windows. It bathed the room in warmth, casting long shadows across the rich mahogany furniture and the embroidered tapestries that adorned the walls. Outside, birds chirped lazily in the distant gardens, and a soft breeze rustled the leaves beyond the glass.

  A carefree day, full of light and life—so at odds with the conversation about to unfold.

  Lord Eldric sat stiffly in a high-backed chair near the hearth, fingers drumming against the polished armrest. Beside him, Lady Seraphine, draped in a rich gown, studied the faces across from her with keen, calculating eyes. Opposite them, Master Havlo sat with the air of a man who had already anticipated the course of this discussion; his weathered hands rested neatly on his knee. His disciple, Somanta, barely more than a shadow at his side, held a leather-bound journal in her lap. A pen poised in her hand, though her gaze flickered between the others with quiet intent.

  Then, quite simply, the conversation began.

  And soon, they found themselves speaking of matters most unusual.

  Lord Eldric leaned forward in his chair, his fingers tightening around the carved armrests. His brow furrowed deeply, a shadow darkening his sharp features. "You mean to tell me… a divine entity set foot in my house? And no one thought to inform me until now?"

  Master Havlo met the Lord’s glare with practiced calm, his weathered hands still folded on his lap like he was discussing a trivial matter. "My Lord, had you been aware of its presence, you would not have asked the question." His voice was even, but weight was behind it, measured and deliberate. "It was subtle but unmistakable. The traces of its power linger still in these halls."

  Lady Seraphine straightened in her seat. Her sharp eyes flicked between them, gleaming like polished steel. "Linger?" she repeated, her voice smooth but cold. "For how long, Master Havlo? This is our home, not a temple."

  Havlo inclined his head slightly. "That is the very matter we must discuss, my Lady. If this presence does not fade, it will draw attention. It is the first Beacon. A high priest, a diviner—someone will sense it. And should they claim this place as sacred ground, you will not be rid of them easily."

  Somanta, silent until now, shifted in her seat. The young woman tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear and spoke softly. "Pilgrims will come. Worshippers. Zealots." Her fingers idly traced the edge of the book in her lap. "If word spreads, your halls will become a holy site before you can shut the gates."

  Lord Eldric exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. "No," he said firmly. "I will not have my home turned into a shrine or a dwelling of a priest!"

  Master Havlo nodded. "Nor would I, my Lord, which is why we must be careful. My hope is that the presence will weaken over time. That it will fade as quietly as it came. But if it does not..." He let the words hang in the air.

  Lady Seraphine tilted her head, the light catching in her calculating gaze. "And if it does not fade, what then? What story do we tell?" Her worry grew that this was somehow her fault.

  Somanta glanced at her master and then back at the Lady. "Perhaps not a Veil, but just a remnant of an old one," she suggested. Let it be an echo of something long past. If we must acknowledge it, let it only be as a whisper of an old blessing, not a beacon calling the faithful."

  Master Havlo smiled faintly. "A wise approach. A house with history earns respect but does not demand devotion." This is even more telling, as you are recently established, by royal order, in this ancient land of Monteluz, which is being reclaimed. It could even be possible that in the past 100 years, you built your manor foundation on an old holy site,” he finished.

  Lord Eldric considered the words, his fingers tapping absently against the wood of his chair. "And if the presence grows stronger instead? If this so-called echo is not content to remain a whisper?"

  Master Havlo's expression darkened slightly. "Then we must act. There are ways to veil divine energy, to shroud it from seeking eyes. But they are not without cost."

  Lady Seraphine narrowed her gaze. "Cost in gold, or cost in something more dire?"

  The sun was slowly blocked by a shadow that darkened Havlo’s face as he spoke. "Both."

  A long silence followed.

  Lord Eldric let out a slow breath and rose to his feet. "Then we have a little time. We must watch, wait… and be ready to act before the wrong eyes take interest." "That is what I would advise… if this were not one of Four." "One of four beacon fires we must try to cover up."

  The air in the parlor seemed to tighten, and a hush followed. Even the distant rustling of leaves beyond the windows felt muted as if the very world held its breath.

  Outside, the warm afternoon continued as if nothing had changed. But within the sealed parlor, the weight of something unseen pressed upon them all.

  Something ancient. Something divine.

  And it had yet to decide whether it would leave.

  Finally, the Master exhaled and sat back. His voice, though quieter now, carried no less weight.

  “Now that we have spoken of the first beacon fire, we must turn to the remaining three,” said Havlor.

  Even the mention of them set off a fresh spasm of tension within the room. Lord Eldric's lips twisted into a scowl, his storm-gray eyes darting over to his wife. Lady Seraphine, mistress as ever of her poise, merely inclined her head. And yet, Havlor caught the moment's doubt in her eyes—the unspoken realization that these following words would tax the very fabric of their rule.

  Lord Eldric was the first to speak, his voice low and edged. “If the first is enough to bring priests to my doorstep, I shudder to ask what the others threaten.”

  Master Havlor met his gaze steadily. “You should ask, my Lord. You should ask and be prepared.”

  Somanta shifted beside him, but she did not speak. She knew better than to interrupt now.

  Lady Seraphine exhaled slowly, tilting her head to the side. “You imply that the next is… different?”

  Havlor nodded. “Yes, it is different. We have discussed the divine; now, we must look to the mundane—People, Kings, and Laws. But it is also different enough that we cannot speak of it here.” He gestured toward the towering bookshelves, the embroidered tapestries, and the high windows that allowed the golden light to spill in. His next statement rang like a bell. “The subjects of that discussion are not here.”

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  Lord Eldric’s brows furrowed. “Subjects?”

  Lady Seraphine's fingers tensed against the folds of her gown, and for the first time, the sharp confidence in her expression flickered with something closer to concern while standing. “Then where?”

  “It is time we check in on our patient.” Said the Master.

  Lord Eldric stood as well, his shoulders squared. “Then we move now.” His soldier's nature is trying to hurry this along before more is added to the scales against his house.

  Master Havlor lifted a hand. “Not just yet.” His gaze flicked toward Lady Seraphine. “My Lady… might I ask for a heavy leather coin purse?”

  The request was simple. Direct. And yet, it landed like a stone in a still pond.

  Lady Seraphine blinked, caught off guard. “A coin purse?” This man was really asking for payment now. Somanta's ears turned Red, and a curse was rising to her lips before. Her master replied.

  Havlor nodded, his expression unreadable. “An empty one. It will be needed.” He said flatly.

  She studied him for a long moment, and then—“For what purpose?”

  Havlor merely smiled, though there was no warmth in it. “You will see soon enough.”

  The parlor doors, sealed only moments ago, would soon open again. And when they did, their path would lead them into the hallway.

  The second beacon fire awaited.

  Soon, they reached the door to the young boy's room. The servants brought water, towels, and a coin purse while Havlo held them all in the hallway. Only after the servants departed did he open the door with the words, “Say nothing. Until we seal the door again.”

  The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn closed, letting long shadows grow across the walls. A faint scent of dried herbs lingered in the air, and the young boy still lay on the bed, but he was now the focus of everyone's gaze.

  Reiki Master Havlo closed the door behind them and stepped forward, the only sound his robes rustling as he approached the bed. Lord Eldric and Lady Seraphine stood near the doorway, their faces heavy with concern. Somanta, Havlo’s disciple, hesitated before finally entering deeper into the small bedroom, her gaze not fixed upon the boy but on a faint white glow emanating from the doeskin bag around the boy’s neck.

  “Master—” Somanta’s voice was barely above a whisper. “That light… It’s unnatural.”

  Havlo did not react immediately, instead extending a hand toward the bag. The glow pulsed, like it was alive and responding to his presence. Somanta took a step back, her breathing uneven.

  Lady Seraphine frowned. “Why do you recoil, Somanta? What is it that troubles you?”

  Somanta swallowed hard. “I… I don’t know. It just feels—Ominous!”

  Lord Eldric folded his arms, eyes narrowing. “Then explain yourself. Is this light a danger to my child?”

  Havlo finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “No. It is not a danger to him.” “But that is not the right question.” He turned to Somanta, his expression unreadable. “But it is something none of us has ever seen before.”

  Seraphine exchanged a glance with Eldric. “Explain.”

  Havlo sighed, taking a seat beside the boy’s bed. “What you see here is something far beyond our understanding. You are all familiar with the ranks of Essence—how every soul manifests a measure of power.”

  The room fell silent as he began his explanation, his words slow and deliberate.

  “The vast majority of people, eighty percent of the world, possess Gray Essence—simple, unremarkable energy. It is the mark of the commoner. Fifteen percent hold Blue Essence, granting them slightly heightened abilities, sharper minds, or stronger bodies.” he paused, “Although the boy had not gone through his coming-of-age ceremony at 19, it was known he was at that level.”

  His voice continued, “Then there is Green, three percent of the world, those with refined control over their energies. Soldiers, scholars, crafters of great skill, and noble bloodlines. My Lady, your soul is reported at that level.”

  He paused, ensuring they followed his words. Then, he continued.

  “Yellow Essence appears in only one percent of individuals, allowing them to wield their power consciously. This is your level, my Lord. Orange, in just half a percent—warriors of renown, those who push beyond human limits. And Red… the truly formidable, numbering less than three in every thousand. They can shape the world through their will, altering reality in ways others can only dream of.”

  Lady Seraphine nodded. “We know this well, Master Havlo. The Red Essence holders have ruled kingdoms and led armies. But what of the rarer ones?”

  “Violet,” Havlo said, his tone darkening. “Until this moment… thought to be the pinnacle of mortal ability. It is so rare that none have been recorded in over two thousand years. Those who possessed it could defy time, wielding energies beyond comprehension.”

  Lord Eldric shifted uneasily. “And this boy… he is not Violet?”

  Havlo shook his head. “No.” He glanced at the glowing bag, his voice filled with pause and thought. “He is something else.” The ramifications filled the small bedroom.

  Silence filled the chamber. The implications were too vast, too impossible to voice. Lady Seraphine finally whispered the question they all feared to ask.

  “Then… what is he?”

  Havlo’s eyes lingered on the boy’s motionless form. “White Essence.”

  The words hung in the air like a death knell. Even the sunlight seemed to dim in response.

  Somanta clenched her fists. "By Morgrin’s beard, that’s not possible."

  “There has never been one recorded,” Eldric murmured. “Even in legend.”

  “And yet,” Havlo said, his voice grave, “it is here before us. This is only one PART of the second Beaconfire. A sign of something far greater than ourselves.”

  Seraphine exhaled, shaking her head. “What does this mean for our son?”

  Havlo rose, his gaze distant. “I do not think that is the right... question. What does it mean for you, your family, the kingdom, and ultimately, the world? This I do not know. But we must find out.”

  Lord Eldric's voice cut through the silence, sharp with skepticism. “No.” His eyes locked onto Havlo’s. “I do not accept this at face value. You are withholding something.”

  Havlo met his gaze evenly. “I have told you only what I can confirm now. There is more… but it must be proven in time.”

  Eldric scowled. “Then prove what you have already said. If this Essence is beyond legend, then show me.”

  At that moment, Havlo stepped forward. “Then let us test it.” He reached into the doeskin bag around the boy's neck and withdrew a small, smooth stone that shimmered with an inner glow. Holding it up for all to see, he placed it against his palm. The stone glowed deep crimson. “Red,” he declared, nodding solemnly.

  He turned to Somanta and repeated the process. The stone flashed orange. Somanta exhaled sharply.

  Next was Lord Eldric. The stone pulsed a steady yellow. He nodded in confirmation, though his expression remained wary.

  Finally, Havlo's hesitation was noticed by all before turning to Lady Seraphine. “Forgive this breach of etiquette and propriety, my Lord, my Lady,” he said, his voice unsteady, “but this must be done, you must see everything.”

  Slowly, he moved the stone toward her.

  The instant it touched her skin, the glow flared brilliantly yellow—far stronger than it had for Lord Eldric.

  The room froze. Eldric stared in disbelief. Somanta took an involuntary step backward. Lady Seraphine herself looked the most shocked of all.

  She swallowed hard. “Is this… because of the gift?” Her voice wavered. “Did I cause this?”

  Her hands trembled as she turned to her husband, seeking reassurance, seeking anything to anchor herself in the storm of uncertainty.

  Havlo placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “No, my lady. You did not cause this.” His voice carried a weight beyond mere words. “This is the will of the divine, and I will prove that as well,” with an honest regard at Lord Eldric.

  Seraphine let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The room remained thick with tension.

  Somanta, still struggling to grasp the implications, finally spoke. “The gift…?” She looked between them all. “What gift? Who’s gift?” looking at the boy, then back to the mother.

  Seraphine’s hands clenched in her lap. Havlo’s gaze darkened. “That,” he said, “is another truth that must be revealed in time.”

  “Now that we all see the second Bonfire, we must define how to deal with it and how we will deal with the king,” Master Havlo's voice brought them all back to the world's reality.