Richard Tuttle - Aakuta - the Dark Mage

“When is the Time of Cleansing?” interrupted the shaman.

“It starts when the evil arrives,” answered Marak. “That is all the scroll stated.”

“So you are to gather the faithful AND the faithless,” mused Ukaro. “The faithless to me are the flatlanders. I feel more strongly than ever that what the others expect of the Torak is not what is required of you. If you were here merely to reclaim our land from the flatlanders, then why did Kaltara send the Star and the Astor?”

“They each have their own lands to reclaim,” Marak offered weakly.

“Perhaps that is how others will interpret it,” shrugged Ukaro, “but I see both of them as being among the faithful. It is the Khadorans, the Omungans, and the Fakarans that are the faithless. It is not referring to the Chula, the Sakovans, and the Qubari. They could never be considered faithless. We have lived for many generations waiting for you to come. We have not wavered in our faith.”

“So I am to make allies with the flatlanders in all three countries?” Marak questioned skeptically.

“It would appear so,” nodded Ukaro.

“Impossible,” Marak shook his head. “The Khadorans will kill me. It is only a matter of time before they do, but I am sure that they will succeed. In any event, there is absolutely no chance that the Khadorans would ever agree to follow me.”

“Come,” Ukaro smiled as he rose. “It is time for you to leave the Chula and return to your flatlanders. Have you found a mate a yet?”

Lord Marak rose and stared at his father with his mouth hanging open.

“A mate?” he echoed. “With everything that is going on, how can you ask such a question?”

“Life continues even through troubled times,” chuckled the shaman. “I wonder what kind of parent you will make.”

“This is no time for me to be distracted by such things, father,” Marak shook his head. “Whatever brings such thoughts to your mind?”

“Let me ask you a question, son,” grinned the shaman. “When you do have a son, no doubt he will be a rascal like you. How will you protect him from making mistakes?”

Marak stopped walking and gazed at the ground with a puzzled frown. “I suppose that I will explain right from wrong to him at the earliest opportunity,” he replied. “Some mistakes he must endure to grow into a man, but I will explain the need for him to avoid the deadly ones.”

“And if he doesn’t listen to you?” pushed Ukaro. “What will you do when you have explained what is right, but he insists on doing what is wrong?”

“He will listen,” Marak answered firmly. “I will not raise a fool.”

“But if he doesn’t?” Ukaro persisted.

“As I said,” Marak shook his head, “sometimes letting him make a mistake will be good for him. I will not try to control his every thought. I will only seek to protect him from harm.”

“Fair enough,” smiled Ukaro. “It is wise to give a young man a long leash as some lessons are best learned through our own failures, but what if his life is endangered by his own folly?”

“I will explain the need for him to choose wisely,” answered Marak.

“And if he still doesn’t listen?” pushed the shaman.

“If it is a matter that threatens his life,” frowned Marak, “I will impose my will upon him to protect him.”

“By force?” questioned Ukaro. “Would you actually use force on your child to make him behave?”

“If his life was in danger?” Marak sighed with frustration. “Of course I would. Then I would again explain things to him so that he truly understood. What good is sparing the rod if the child is to die? Why are you pursuing this conversation, father? I have no intention of starting a family anytime soon, if at all.”

“You will make a great father,” Ukaro said seriously. “I mention this now because you already have a family. The Chula are your children now. The Khadorans are your children, too. Teach them what they need to know to survive. If they refuse to listen, punish them with force until they obey, and then explain things to them again. As I said before, Kaltara will guide you. You already seem to know how to manage unruly children.”

Marak shook his head in wonder, but he eventually smiled and hugged his father. “If I grow up to be as wise as you, Ukaro,” he chuckled, “I will be a good father indeed. I must return to Fardale now. I will try to visit again after the Sakovans have left.”

* * *

Lord Marak detoured to his secret mage training field on the way back to the Fardale mansion. When he arrived at the field, he saw Master Malafar talking to a group of women. He scowled inwardly as he turned abruptly and headed towards the mage, Klora.

“What is he doing here?” snapped Lord Marak. “How did he find out about this field?”

Klora looked at the Torak lord with surprise in her eyes. “You did not tell him about the field?” she asked. “He has been here since you left the estate. I assumed that you had sent him to explain Omungan magic to us. He has been doing just that for the last three days.”

“I did not send him,” Lord Marak retorted sharply, more sharply than he had intended to. “I am sorry, Klora. I should not be taking this out on you. I wonder how many others now know about our secret field?”

“Nobody else has been around, if that helps,” Klora shrugged. “Calm yourself. He has seen us and is coming this way. He really has taught us new approaches, Lord Marak. Do not be too hard on him.”

“Ah, Lord Marak,” greeted the Omungan mage. “You have the makings of a wonderful academy here. Why do you hide them?”

“I hide them because knowledge of their existence can threaten the survival of my people,” Lord Marak retorted. “How did you find out about this field?”

“You cannot hide the use of such magic from a trained mage,” shrugged Master Malafar. “I hope that I have not transgressed too much by being here, but I did want to offer you something for what you did for me in Omunga. Teaching your mages was the least I could do.”

Lord Marak sighed in frustration as he tried to calm himself. “Walk back to the mansion with me, Master Malafar,” he eventually said. “Now that you have spent time with my mage corps, tell me what you think of them.”

“I think they are wonderful students,” smiled Master Malafar as they started walking towards the distant mansion. “There is much talent among them, and it appears that they are extremely dedicated to learning. A master could not wish for a better group of students.”

“A pity that you are returning to Sakova,” Lord Marak said. “Knowledge of Omungan magic could be helpful to them.”

“Actually,” Master Malafar said hesitantly, “I am not returning to Omunga. I have not told Lyra yet, but my mind is made up. I have caused more than my fair share of grief for both the Omungan and Sakovan people.”

“What are you planning to do?” asked Lord Marak as his mind suddenly gave thought to having the mage stay and teach his mage corps.

“I need time alone,” answered Master Malafar. “You know from your trip to my homeland that I have messed things up rather badly down there. I no longer can live among the Omungans, and I do not feel at home with the Sakovans, even though my daughter rules them.”

“You are welcome to stay here in Fardale if you wish,” offered Lord Marak as his attitude towards the mage softened, “but I think you are judging the Sakovans harshly. They have accepted Lyra as their leader, and I know enough about them to know that they would welcome you into their homes.”

“I am sure that Lyra would demand that they welcome me,” sighed Master Malafar, “but I have wronged them as well. No, it is better for everyone if I just disappear. I have given this a tremendous amount of thought, Lord Marak, and I am determined in what I plan to do. I would like to spend another three days with your mages before I leave, but I cannot stay here any longer than that. I need time alone and I suspect it will be years before I sort out my own problems. Hopefully by that time, some of my mistakes will have been forgotten.”