Page 25 of Gryphon in Light

Kel thought about that for a moment. “It would be hard to relate to,” he agreed. “I would not think much about why those people were that way, I would only think of my own pain and well-being, and that I was knocked out of the sky.”

“Yes, and now every demonstration of magic is looked at as something to be feared until it can be proved it isn’t going to hurt them. And there are a thousand minds like that, versus every one Valdemaran who understands.” Darian sighed. “That is part of what I am doing as a Knight of Valdemar. It’s a rank and title they all know and understand. I don’t have to be highborn to hold it. In fact, at least half of the Knights are as much mongrels as I am. So ordinary people consider me one of them. But it is a title and a rank, and high enough that the highborn grudgingly allow that I belong with them, too.”

“And so you cut your hair back, and wear your armor. You have to appear more Valdemaran to them,” Kelvren replied, and twisted his head nearly upside down so his friend could reach deep inside the feather layers.

Darian sighed. “I even keep Kuari far away when I go into populated places in Valdemar now. And I ride a horse. Being a Knight is not the same as being a diplomat or envoy. I can deliver messages of peace, sure, but they’re delivered in an armored fist. It’s understood in Valdemaran culture that Heralds and Knights have our diplomacy backed up by pikemen and archers. So here, I am Dar’ian k’Valdemar, and there I am Knight Darian Firkin.”

“You are like a gryphon now,” Kel pointed out, feeling very proud he had thought of the analogy. “Not a bird and not a beast! Something better!”

Darian laughed ruefully. “Yes, I guess I am. But if I’m a gryphon, Kel, I am going to ask you to trust me with something more important to you than your life. I am going to ask you to trust me with your reputation.”

“Mrrrph,” Kel replied dubiously, and beak-nudged at Darian’s shoulder and chest harder than was necessary.

“Kel, we have been friends for a very, very long time now,” Darian pointed out earnestly, pushing back. “It’s not going to be quick—and it probably won’t be everything you want or deserve. But I’m going to stake my reputation alongside yours, as the Owl Knight, because you are that important to me. You have to leave your story to me for a while.”

Kelvren huffed, “Because if I went to them, I would just be a magical war beast raging about injustice while brandishing my claws, yes? So you must speak about me, and for me. Hurrrh. As much as it amuses me to frighten others, maybe it is best that I don’t display myself for a time. It is the way of a Wingleader. We train in formations and combined attacks to multiply our force, and to defend each other should one of us become defenseless. We have to trust in our flight companions. There are some battles I cannot fight myself, so I suppose you will fight them for me.”

Kelvren laid his head down flat on the floor, his beak-hook tucked between the edges of two tiles. He heaved a loud sigh, and the lighting shimmered around them.

Darian blinked rapidly, as if his eyes were stinging him, but he smiled. “And in the years to come, if I find myself in a battle in which claws and beaks are all that can save me, I shall depend upon you.”

At that, Kel raised his head high. “My talons are at your service, now and evermore, Dar’ian Owlknight.”

“Well, right now, I’d like you to trust us, and sleep,” Darian told him. “Or your trondi’irn will probably skin me.”

“I would not like you to be skinned, friend Dar’ian,” Kel replied gravely. “You would be most uncomfortable without your skin. Perhaps she could settle for stripping your clothes off instead?”

Darian choked on a laugh and stood up. “I’ll see you again, Kel,” he replied, but then sighed while dusting himself off. “I have to ride overnight and leave from Kelmskeep at dawn. Val and I are taking thirty of Breon’s loyals to garrison Millbridge, and then we’re off with an envoy and a strongbox to make sure the Weavers stay allied. I wish I could stay here, but I know you would want me to go. Our friendships must often fall second to our duties, but a true friend knows that duty is part of what makes someone their friend.” He stopped at the doorway and added, “I’m going to make what you did in Valdemar—for Valdemar—mean even more.”

They both said nothing for a minute, as if trying to memorize each other’s appearance and expression.

“You are my hero, Kel,” Darian finally said.

“You are my hero, Dar’ian,” Kelvren replied.

Then the Owlknight turned away, and departed into the dusk.

Kelvren had stuffed himself at breakfast, and sleep and food had gone a long way toward soothing his temper. So he was also ready to listen as Firesong spoke, or more properly, lectured. “An Adept is well-learned, but primarily, an Adept is a durable, fast-thinking problem-solver. This is one of the great truths of being a Tayledras Adept. It is not the high magic that makes an Adept, it is the clarity of mind to solve the problem of the moment. That moment could be all the time there is to act in, and the Adept must only let in other concerns when things are safe. Time taken to think about hate, love, blame, or justice could be an Adept’s last thoughts. Adepts find dangers and traps all the time, but they are taken as the way of all life and the world, not as something done to them.”

“We discussed this already,” Kel growled. “None of you want me to think about blame and the wrong I am being done.”

Firesong instantly replied, “It is so important, we repeat it. You are an emotional soul, Kelvren Skothkar, and while passion serves you well in life, it can be your death now. We are going to try to teach you Adept ways so you can control the ruin inside you. Let that sink into your feathered skull a while.”

Kelvren did. I doubt they expect me to become an actual Adept, but he did talk about a small Heartstone. A Heartstone is like a rain barrel that draws in and stores power to be drawn out as needed. But . . .

“We should not do any of that here,” Kelvren declared. “Not in the Vale. Not even near the Vale. I won’t allow it. If my training strayed, I could tap the Heartstone of the Vale, or affect the flow into it. We need to be far away if we’re going to attempt this. And not in Valdemar, nor near the Clans. If I fail, I don’t want anyone to see it . . . and I know that you can shield anybody nearby if I did.”

Despite today’s mask, Firesong looked both impressed and smug. “So you want to travel again, so soon?”

“I want to keep k’Valdemar and our allies safe. Here is not the place.”

Firesong nodded. “An expedition it will be, then. Because you’re right. I was going to lead up to it, but you suggested it yourself.” He did a little bow, and Aya sparked in a shower of light-dust on the stone perch. “Smart gryphon. A Healing Adept’s way not only involves fast thinking, but also how to prevent harm in every direction and every level of repercussion while you’re doing it.” Firesong interlaced his fingers and leaned forward. “Magic at Adept level is something you can barely ever escape. It hums in your head, it brushes at you like a breeze or a scent. Magic can have surges, and crackle, and go awry. It can have flavors, and drop away when you need it only to reappear stronger an instant later. The larger swells appear in your mind like waves of life and lightning, as tall and wide as you can comprehend, but it may have a single flaw amongst its millions of threads that you must smooth away or it will twist something leagues from you into something hideous and deadly. Some power drops from the Over, right through ours, and into the Under. Out there, in the Pelagirs, an Adept with their senses wide open could feel changes like that with every step.” Firesong stepped back then, having Kelvren’s full attention. “So, when all that you can perceive has a potential for disaster, an Adept must live by, how do I turn what I encounter into an advantage? That is why I think you can save your own life, because it is how you already think, Kelvren. Believe me, I know. I was in your head. What you did in Valdemar was Adept-style thinking.”

Kel considered this, and decided that he was flattered. “So. Let us look at this. How can my being a pariah become an advantage?”

“Ah. Because your admiration for Treyvan and Hydona and Skandranon can make you like them, if what I have in mind can be done,” Firesong answered, with a sly look.

“How?”