Markos sprawled on the ground with Caelyn's sword pressed close to his neck. He glared up at the templar with the jagged edge of his broken sword pointed upwards. The other half of the sword was embedded in the hardened dirt floor.
"You've lost, Markos."
"Are you sure about that? It was to first blood.
A thin line of red spilled down a gash on Caelyn's cheek. In disbelief, the templar lightly touched his cheek and rubbed the blood between his fingers. He smirked and resheathed his sword. "So it was. Kings to you, Markos."
Caelyn offered Markos his hand with a bright smile. Markos still confounded by the sequence of events, accepted the offered hand and regained his feet. He stared at the wound before glancing down at the broken steel on the ground. "Victory at the cost of my sword."
"Better your sword than your head."
Iliana quickly approached and stopped at Caelyn's side. Her expression was accusing. "Sir Caelyn, you know better than that! Think of what Sir Gareth would say."
Caelyn chuckled. "Ended up not mattering anyway."
"What didn't matter?" Markos held the hilt of the broken blade in his hand, uncertain as to what to do with it now. "I saw something but I couldn't see what happened."
Iliana raised her hand over Caelyn's cheek without touching him. She murmured in a foreign language that Markos didn't understand. Blue fire coiled around her hand and spread across Caelyn's cheek, the wound slowly disappeared until nothing was left but specks of drying blood. He felt a warmth brush against him and settle at the base of his neck where the arrowhead rested beneath his tunic.
"You have a talent." Caelyn commented once Iliana withdrew her hand. "How do I put this... you have tinder inside you that is smoking. With enough focused attention, it'll catch flame. Once that happens, if you don't learn how to control it, you'll burn everything around you."
Markos tried to understand. His brow furrowed looking between Iliana and Caelyn. "I have... embers inside me? A flame? You mean magic?" The question spilled from his lips and he shivered. Magic users were executed. If he was on then Caelyn would have too...
Caelyn non-threateningly raised his hands. "Calm down. You haven't done anything wrong. This just means we have to take some precautions." He scratched the back of his neck for a moment. "Look, you're looking to join the templars this spring?"
"Provided you don't execute me right now, yes."
The templar offered an apologetic smile. "I can do you something better. You need to learn how to control it. The Order is the best place for someone with your talent. You're not one of the Flaumen Saulis so I don't think you'll end up in one of the monasteries. It's abnormal to do this... but, I can take you now."
"You can do what?"
"I can take you with me and start your training as a templar now, rather than in the spring. You deflected my blow enough to land on of your own. It cost you a sword but you managed it without training."
Iliana folded her arms across her chest and sighed. "Knight General Arand has to give his blessings. Then there's Dame Castellio..."
Caelyn shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about Dame Castellio. It's a few months early but he's already proven himself as he would at the festival. He stood his ground and defeated a templar in combat. But I will send a raven and talk to the Knight General."
"I'm being recruited to the Order of the Holy Sword?"
Caelyn nodded. "Easiest way to handle this without having to put you down."
Markos gulped. His gaze shifted down to the broken metal on the ground. He picked it up and carefully held it in his hands. "Maraium can cut through steel." His eyes darted up to Caelyn. "I.. would like to live and prove my worth as a Templar."
Caelyn patted Markos on the back. "You will get to do both. You know enough that training should be easy for you. I'll go find the Knight General. You can stay here, shouldn't take long." The templar waved as he walked from the room.
Iliana placed a soft hand on Markos's shoulder. He felt a rush of warmth as he looked at her. "Is that safe for you, Helka Iliana?"
"At the moment, we're safe." She smiled and moved her hand away again. "How do you sense the Word?"
"I... don't know what you mean."
"I felt the pull of power. I can see the threads that connect us to each other and to the world around us." She lightly placed two fingers on top of his gambeson with a curious tilt of her head. "Interesting.. it's not inherently... but it is."
"What isn't?" He blinked down at the ember's touch. He noticed the rise and fall of her bosom and quickly looked away again.
"There is a theory, that those with sparks of magic are drawn to one another. We see it most regarding how Aphotics can sense those that harness the Word just as Embers can sense Aphotics. But it's hard to prove regarding those that haven't sparked yet." She tapped the side of her cheek for a moment. "Things to consider for another day." She smiled brightly.
"It's a bit, yes. I still don't quite understand it." Markos sighed and tossed the broken sword into a repair box near the weapon racks. "If you mean to tell me that mages are drawn to other magic users?"
"Yes. That's the theory." Iliana leaned against the wall as she waited. "Humans were introduced to Jord but the early elves taught them magic. The Church of the Holy Sword has been trying to stop any more destruction from happening. As an Ember, I draw from myself to wield the Word but other mages pull from Jord itself. They strip the life from the world around them."
"Isn't that what happened North of the Wall where the Demon Dragon sleeps?"
"If the tales are true."
Markos pressed his hands to his face with an aggravated sigh. "I don't want this curse."
Iliana shook her head. "It doesn't have to be a curse. There are some things we can do. Do you trust me, Markos?"
He opened his eyes and found Iliana's face pressed close to his. He blinked in surprise as her lips found his. Warmth spread through him as he felt his legs go weak. He held her close and savored the way her soft lips crushed against his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the way it felt.
As suddenly as the moment began, it ended. Markos found himself alone in the training room. "Iliana?"