CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

Calderon paused outside the door to his room. How could they have chosen Sevrin over him? By all accounts, he had passed the other tests just fine. Maybe he had fallen asleep when he played his music? That wouldn’t explain why the Musician wanted to choose him though. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry, but he couldn’t help it.

He had worked for years to get here, but this was not the way he expected things to go. Perhaps he truly was not meant to be the Musician. He entered his room and hit his knees. He cried, and he prayed. And then he prayed some more. And cried some more. His tears were selfish, he knew. If the Divines had willed Sevrin to be the Musician, then he would have to accept that. But he didn’t want to.

It was easier to be selfish. He should not allow himself to wallow in self-pity. He was stronger than that. He sat there on his knees, the hot tears streaming down his face. He was unaware of the passage of time. No light shone through his window. He didn’t bother lighting a candle. He slumped down onto the cold stone floor and just laid there and stared into the darkness of his room.

When he woke up, small shafts of light were shining through his window. He was still lying on his stomach and his neck was a little sore from facing the same direction all night. A knock on his door startled him. “Yes?” he called out, not sure why anyone was knocking in the first place. It wasn’t time for the morning prayers.

“Calderon,” the Abbot’s familiar voice rang, “I need to speak with you.”

Calderon pushed himself off the floor with a grunt. He didn’t bother trying to smooth his disheveled look. He opened the door and was greeted by the Abbot, who had a disturbing look on his face. “Due to unforeseen circumstances, you are now the new Musician. You will report to master Donovan this evening for instruction.”

“Master who?” he questioned, only half awake.

“The former Musician. His name is master Donovan. And don’t forget your flute.” The Abbot turned and left, his departure as quick as his arrival.

“What just happened?” Calderon whispered to himself. Unforeseen circumstances? What did that mean? And why did he have a dreaded feeling about being the new Musician? He should have been overjoyed.

He wasn’t.

—

Calderon made his way quickly to Velkyn’s room. He knocked several times, but his friend did not answer. Could he be guarding the sphere already? He wasn’t sure, but decided to go by the sphere chamber to see.

As he walked down the hallway that led to the room that housed the sphere, he saw Velkyn standing outside the door. “Velkyn!” he shouted. “I’ve got to tell you something!” As he approached his friend, Velkyn began to run toward him. “It’s the strangest thing” he began to say, but then Velkyn slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.

Velkyn’s fists were a blur of raw fury, striking him in his jaw, neck, and chest. It was all he could do to try and block his face. The intensity with which Velkyn struck left no doubt in his mind that he was indeed the right choice for Guardian. “I’m the new Musician,” he screeched.

As quickly as Velkyn attacked, he stopped. “Oh, thank Virtue,” Velkyn gasped. “Why didn’t you say so? I could have killed you!” Calderon could feel blood on his face, but he didn’t know where it was from.

“How was I supposed to know you would attack a fellow monk within our own walls?”

Velkyn helped him to his feet. “Lesson learned. That is great news, my friend. What changed?” Calderon shrugged. “I’m not really sure. The Abbot came to my room and told me there were unforeseen circumstances.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to ask master Donovan tonight.”

“Who?”

“Master Donovan, he is … or was, the Musician.”

“Somehow, I knew you would be chosen. I appreciate you coming to tell me, but you really shouldn’t be here until you are supposed to play the music”

Calderon wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it. Go clean yourself up. Someone is bound to think you received a beating.” Velkyn grinned at him.

—

The day didn’t pass fast enough for Calderon. He went to the morning prayer ceremony, helped some of the newer monks with the cleaning tasks, and even spent some time in the library studying some old books about the sphere.

As the daylight began to fade and candles started to be lit, his anxiety about being the new Musician returned. He was uneasy about it, but he was also excited. Unfortunately for him, the uneasiness seemed to outweigh his joy. How could one live their entire life leading up to a single moment with anticipation, and then be so afraid of what would come next?

He met Donovan at the same chamber he played his music in. The old man was slightly shorter than him, about five feet tall. His head was shaved like all the other monks, but his wrinkles gave some hint to his age. He was one of those men who time had aged beyond years. His eyes were dark brown and seemed to pierce Calderon’s very soul.

“Good evening,” Donovan greeted.

Calderon returned the greeting and bowed his head to the old man. “The Abbot didn’t mention the reason for the change. Do you know what happened?”

Donovan’s face softened with what appeared to be sadness. “Sevrin, though not my first choice, did well. He played the music under my supervision and did everything the way he should have. Afterward, he fell ill. We assumed it was a minor thing, perhaps some bad meat. But he did not survive through the night. The poor boy died in his sleep.”

Calderon frowned. “My heart breaks at this news. I have to confess something.”

Donovan raised his eyebrows.

“I have worked and waited my whole life to be here, to be the Musician. But now that I am here and this is all happening, I am afraid. What if I mess up? What if I am not meant to be the Musician?”

Donovan did not answer immediately. “The Divines work their will out in ways that we do not understand. Their ways are not our ways. Their thoughts are not our thoughts. Yet everything works out in the end the way it was meant to. Sevrin’s death is a part of their will, though how or why we will never know in this life. Fear is a natural response to the unknown. There is nothing wrong in being afraid. We all have fears; we are only men.”

Donovan stared into Calderon’s eyes with that piercing gaze. “The true test of a man is not whether he is afraid or not, it is how he responds. I will be here to teach you and guide you as long as the Divines see fit. And when death comes to me as it comes to us all, you will be ready.”

Calderon had a puzzled look on his face. “Ready for what?”

“To be on your own, as the new Musician.”

—

Calderon found being the Musician to be less overwhelming than he expected. There were two things that Donovan was very specific about. The time that he began the music, and how long he played.

“The enchantment that is bound within the metal of the sphere is old. It requires the music to be played daily to strengthen it. Every twenty four hours, to the minute, it must be played or else the enchantment will weaken.”

“What happens if it weakens?” Calderon questioned.

“The soul of the dragon that is captured within is a fire dragon. The enchantment keeps the sphere cold, which ensures the beast is trapped inside. If the enchantment weakens, the temperature of the metal drops. And if that were to happen, the dragon would be able to escape. Were the dragon to roam this world again … it would be the end of things as we know it.”

The old man knew more about the sphere than any of the books he had read in the library. He was older than any of the other monks, older even than the former Guardian. Calderon didn’t like looking into the man’s eyes. His piercing gaze made him uncomfortable.

“That is why you must never be late. The music must begin at the exact time, and it must be for a complete hour. If either of these guidelines are not kept, you endanger the entire world.”

Calderon was silent in thought. “Why entrust something so important to the monastery? Why did the silversmith bring it to us? Why not destroy the dragon’s soul instead of trapping it?”

Donovan shrugged his thin shoulders. “Why he chose to come here is a mystery. From what I have learned in all my years is that while a dragon’s body can be destroyed, its soul cannot. They are from a time and world beyond ours. There are tales of wizards from ancient times that had dealings with the beasts, but dragons are sly creatures and often betrayed the wizards. No one knows where they came from or how they came to be in our world.”

“What if I fail?” Calderon asked, hesitating to ask such a dramatic question.

Donovan didn’t answer. Instead, he led Calderon to the chamber of the sphere. They relieved Velkyn and entered the room. This would be the fifth night that he played the music. Each night became less stressful. His sleeping disorder even seemed less active than he could ever remember.

He put the flute to his lips and began to play his music. Perhaps he had been wrong about his fears.

—

Velkyn had trained for years to make his mind more powerful than his body. Guarding a door that could be attacked for twenty-one hours a day, with only three hours to rest was no easy feat. The first couple days hadn’t been too difficult, but it was beginning to catch up to him. He desperately needed sleep. It was hard for him to keep his eyes open. They were beginning to water and his eyelids were so heavy. He managed to make it to his room and slump into his bed. Sleep overcame him almost immediately.

His eyes shot open. How long had he been out? It felt like he had slept for hours. Panic gripped him as the thought that he might have overslept entered his mind. He heard a noise and sat up quickly.

“It’s been a week since I’ve seen you,” a female voice echoed in the darkness. Velkyn turned toward the doorway, where he heard the voice.

“Nydel … when did you get in here?” Velkyn whispered. He felt her soft hand touch the left side of his face.

“Just now. Why haven’t you come to see me?” she whispered back, leaning in close.

“I was chosen as the Guardian. I get relieved late in the evening.”

She hopped into the bed and straddled him. “I’m so proud of you!” she said excitedly as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Sshh! Not so loud, woman. Someone might hear you. I have to get back to my post soon. I only get three hours away.”

“I saw you from down the hall, you just got in here. You must be exhausted,” she pouted. “You are probably too tired …” she said sensually. She pulled her shirt off and tossed it to the side.

Velkyn shook his head and pulled her face close to his. “Mm … I missed you.”

—

Velkyn arrived back at his post just in time to meet Calderon and Donovan as they were leaving the chamber. Donovan didn’t say anything but continued on his way. Calderon stopped. “You look exhausted.”

Velkyn waited until he didn’t see the old man anymore. “Nydel came to see me.”

“Here?” Calderon asked incredulously.

Velkyn smirked. “She’s amazing. I

will

make her my wife one day.” Calderon could only raise his eyebrows in response. He knew that wouldn’t be very likely, but he didn’t want to point that out.

“Are you going to attend the coronation?” Velkyn asked Calderon, abruptly changing the subject.

“The entire monastery is attending.” Calderon responded. “Donovan just told me about it. How did you find out? And are you the only one guarding it?”

Velkyn shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I would imagine the other candidates will be under my supervision to keep it safe. I hear the king of Oakvalor will be present. Who knows what they might have planned. And anything that concerns the sphere comes to me first. After the Abbot, of course.”

Calderon waited in silence a few moments to make sure Donovan was completely out of earshot. “I am playing the music by myself from now on. Donovan thinks his time is coming. I’m nervous about playing alone. What if—” Velkyn raised his hand to quiet his friend. “Trust in yourself, Calderon. You have too much fear about what might be, when you should live in what is. They were not wrong in choosing you. You’ll be fine.”

Calderon wasn’t so sure of that.

—

It was hard for Calderon to believe it was time to play again. The days seemed to drown together. He had not seen Donovan at all since he played his music the night before. It was entirely possible he had passed during the night. Given the importance of the coronation, it was unlikely he would get the news of his mentor’s death.

As he approached the sphere’s chamber, a tingly feeling spread down his back. He reached down to rub the spot and the feeling went away, but he didn’t feel right. He felt … off. Shaking his head, he continued on and relieved Velkyn from his duty. He pushed the door open and entered the dimly lit chamber, pausing to let his eyes adjust.

It was almost time.

Calderon placed the flute to his lips and breathed in deep.

He opened his eyes and was looking up at the ceiling. A horrible feeling of dread washed over him. He had fallen asleep! Calderon struggled up to his feet and tried frantically to determine how much time had passed. He pulled the chamber door open just enough to look out. Velkyn was not back yet. Perhaps he had only dozed off for a short moment.

He pushed the door shut and began to play his music like normal. As he played, he glanced around the room. The room was so dim, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, if any at all. Perhaps he had passed out and not fallen asleep? He wasn’t sure. He eyed the sphere closely. It did not appear noticeably different, though he never really paid attention to what the sphere looked like. Calderon rested one hand on the sphere as he held a note on his flute.

It was cool to the touch, but he had only touched it once before. Was it always cool to the touch? He couldn’t remember.

Calderon was so engrossed with the sphere he did not hear the door swing open. “Calderon,” he heard Velkyn whisper. He spun around, startled by the sound. Velkyn stood in the doorway motioning him. “Your hour has passed, my friend. Come, your duty is complete for today. The sphere must be readied for the coronation tomorrow.”

Calderon nodded, unsure of how long he had played his music anyway. He assumed he had played long enough to keep the enchantment strong. He left the chamber and stood in the hallway as Velkyn shut the door. “I will see you at the palace tomorrow. Do you suppose we will meet the new king?” Calderon asked as Velkyn took his post.

“If the Divines see fit to allow it,” Velkyn responded. “You look pale. You should get some rest. Wait …” Velkyn’s voice lowered. “you didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.” Calderon lied. “I just feel a little weak now. I will see you tomorrow at the coronation. It will be exciting to see what lies outside these walls.”

As troubled as Calderon was about his sleeping disorder having roused its ugly head, he had little difficulty sleeping through the night. As the light of dawn shown through the small window of his room, he was readying himself to see the palace for the first time in his life.