The Book of the Blue House

They were sitting in the great solar on the first floor of the Temple, where the patio doors looked out onto the great couryard and now they heard feet padding behind them, and presently turned to see, entering, the Abbot Hyrum.

“I’ll tell you another story,” he said, “It is the story where Conn must come to the sanctuary in five minutes.”

“What?” Conn began.

“Which,” Abbot Hyrum continued without explanation, “means you should probably start walking now.”

Connleth followed the Abbot and realized it was a good thing he did, for still after all these months, the Temple was a mystery to him. Derek had explained that the oldest Blue temples were all great buttes of blue stone, and the precincts which would have been in any ancient temple, including the courtyards, were all wound up like intestines inside the block structure. So he walked along the ground level cloister looking through the windows and pillars on the courtyard until he passed through the low ceilinged and pillared rooms where the young priests met for classes and discussions and visiting teachers and speakers came and he saw the hall that lead to the lobby where he had first entered from the White Door, with the cafeteria in the distance, and a northern corridor leading to the locked doors over the sections through which one entered by the Black Door. Now they both walked up the low flight of stairs, and Connleth found himself in a red carpeted hall leading to a doorway which opened to the sanctuary.

Though the great Red Door was open, the sanctuary was nearly empty at this time of day. Lamps burned along the walls before the images of the Gods and against the colorful murals, and the light of the sunroof above shone down on the stone floor. On that floor, sitting, his legs folded under him and his hands on his lap, head shaved, was Akkrabeth.

“He is waiting for you.” the Abbot said, and Conn looked at him, but the Abbot nodded and pushed him through the doorway.

Connleth descended the shallow door into the large flagstone sanctuary, and bowed before the great image of Adaon before walking slowly to the man who sat on the floor.

“Sit beside my Connleth son of Maire,” Akkrebeth said.

Connleth obeyed, saying nothing.

“Do you know who I am?”

“You are the Pendarvis. The Lord Akkrabeth.”

“Amongst other things, yes. And do you know what you are?”

“I know who I am,” Connleth offered.

“Do you even know that?” The man smiled more to himself than at Conn. He was surprisingly young looking, and kind.

“I wonder.”

“I am…” Connleth began.

“Come with me,” Akkrebeth said. “There is little time and I needed to speak with you.”

Connleth did not know why the wizard of Westrial would ever need to speak to him, but he obeyed and followed him to the great bowl of fire which burned before the lap of Adaon.

“Look into the fire,” Akkrebeth said. “And tell me what you see.”

“Lord Akkrabeth,” Connleth said. “I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’m not a wizard.”

“Exactly,” Akkrebeth said. “You do not know what I have been told. Look into the fire.

“And call me Ash,” he added. “It’s simpler.”

Connleth looked to the fire and he gazed on the flames that danced like something between air and water, yellow and red, centered with black, lifting and falling, running along the bowl, sustained by sweet wood and incense.

“Tell me,” Akkrebeth said.

“I see fire. I see fire dancing,” Connleth almost shrugged, then thought it disrespectful. “I feel waves of flames. Flame like waves. No. Waves. Waves. And on the waves a ship. And the ship sails are black. There are three others ships. They are… in a storm. Over them is a great bird, like a heron. Only much bigger. Bigger than a house. It’s shadow is black. There is a man. He is dark, He like a Royan, Like the darkest Royan, strong, and there is a circlet of gold in his hair. His hair is like black wool. No. Yes. And he carries a sword. Why does that matter? He is carrying the sword and…. It is gone. It’s gone. There’s a tower. High. It’s too high. No one ever saw something this high, but just like that… it’s crumbling to the ground. It’s crashing and—oh, no, the people. The people! And the dust. And there is dust again and fire again and the fire, the fire….”

Conn said back, his face hot, his body covered in sweat. He seemed rung out. He was breathing heavily, the way he did after… but it seem like sacrilege to bring that up.

“It is not sacrilege,” Ekkre—Ash said. “The two are both forms of power and come from the same source, the same Lord.”

“But…” Connleth said, ignoring how Ash had known his thoughts, “what was that?”

“A test,” Ash said, smoothing the black robe over his chest. It hung lose exposing his breast, and now he gathered it closer.

“And it was also magic,” he hadded offhandedly.

“Your magic?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ash said with neglible bad temper. “I thought you possessed the mark of the mage. You do. In the old days you would have had no choice but to come with me, but now you do have a choice.”

“Sir…” Connleth began, “Are you saying you would take me with you, to make me a… wizard? Or a witch. Or… mage.”

“One’s witch is another man’s mage,” Ash said. “And if you keep repeating what I say and asking me stupid questions I will grow tired of you. If there is nothing keeping you here, then come with me.”

He thought of Derek. He thought of his friends in this house. Matteo. He thought of his sister.

“I promised someone, two someones who left recently, that I would look after some people, and I feel like I am not doing it if I leave,” Connleth said.

Ash looked at him closely.

“Do you feel,” Ash began, “that your path lies with the Blues?”

“If it was here,” Connleth said, “then I couldn’t be a mage.”

“Why not? Several men who stayed here for a far shorter time than you already have were given the Blue and then left this house to go on as lords and princes, chamberlains, soldiers and yes, mages. If you took the Blue, I would come back for you. I must leave in the morning, and would have taken you with me. But if you would stay behind, I will return to you in one year’s time.”

Connleth felt like a great coward. In all the adventure stories, presented with such a chance, a great wizard standing before you, one would never have looked back, and yet, he could not see his way to doing this at all. He could leave his sister, and in some ways he could even leave Derek, but the thought of leaving Matteo, whom he had vowed to watch over, was unbearable, and to leave him for something that, just as easily could be done in the following year, was unthinkable.

“My lord,” Connleth said, “please. Please come for me when the leaves bud on the trees, in the next spring, when hopefully these wars have ended.”

“Connleth son of Maire,” Ash said, pulling his hood over his head and already turning from him, “Look for me in one year’s time, and on that day, be ready.”