Blood and Steel (The Cor Chronicles Volume I) by Martin Parece II
Cor awoke on his own shortly before dawn, and he wandered out of his small room to find Rael in the larder. The man had already set a number of things out on the table, and Cor sat without saying a word, taking a small share of the food and eating quietly.
“I am not one for niceties, nor am I much for etiquette,” Rael said, sitting down. “I am sure it comes from my limited contact with other people over the last number of years.
“Certainly you know that you are different from other Westerners. Your coughing, the color of your skin are symptoms of this. You are of a race called the Dahken. I know your parents were Westerners, but that means nothing. Dahken are magical, our blood is imbued with power by the god Dahk.”
“The priests of Garod say magic is evil,” Cor stated, repeating what he had been taught for years by his parents and the priests.
“Of course they do. Magic threatens them,” Rael answered. “But you see, magic comes from the gods. The priests of Garod practice magic, but they call it prayer, divine power, miracles. It is no different. Yes, the Western gods are innately good, just as the gods of Losz are innately evil, but the truth of how the gods work in the world through magic is not taught to Westerners.”
“Who is Dahk? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Dahk,” Rael proceeded slowly, “is the God of Blood.”
“So, you worship a god of evil?” Cor asked. The very idea made him gaze upon Rael aghast.
“I worship no god, nor is Dahk a god of evil. The gods do not need our worship, and exactly how they choose who among us wield their powers is unknown to us. As I said, Dahk is the God of Blood; all men, good and evil, have blood. It is how you use your power as a Dahken that makes you good or evil. It has no reflection on Him.”
“So, I can use magic?” Cor asked, puzzled.
“Not so much in the sense of the word as you understand it,” replied Rael patiently. “Much of our power is innate, constantly in existence. We do not call on a god to use our powers as the priests of Garod or sorcerers in Losz do. The power is there, and you must simply know how to use it. Some of our powers are universal to all Dahken, while others are not. You will have to discover which powers you have on your own. But there is something about you Cor; I have never felt another Dahken as strikingly as you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do not concern yourself with that too much for now. Let me just say, it is how I came to find you, and how I knew you had returned to the West,” Rael explained. “It is why you came with me. Our power comes from our blood, and it sometimes tells us what we should do.”
After breakfast, they returned to the study where Cor took a chair. Rael handed him a parchment scroll tied with a single silk cord.
“Begin with this,” he said.
“What is it?” Cor asked without untying it.
“It is a brief history of the West by the Chronicler. When you are finished, find me outside.”
“I am not one for niceties, nor am I much for etiquette,” Rael said, sitting down. “I am sure it comes from my limited contact with other people over the last number of years.
“Certainly you know that you are different from other Westerners. Your coughing, the color of your skin are symptoms of this. You are of a race called the Dahken. I know your parents were Westerners, but that means nothing. Dahken are magical, our blood is imbued with power by the god Dahk.”
“The priests of Garod say magic is evil,” Cor stated, repeating what he had been taught for years by his parents and the priests.
“Of course they do. Magic threatens them,” Rael answered. “But you see, magic comes from the gods. The priests of Garod practice magic, but they call it prayer, divine power, miracles. It is no different. Yes, the Western gods are innately good, just as the gods of Losz are innately evil, but the truth of how the gods work in the world through magic is not taught to Westerners.”
“Who is Dahk? I’ve never heard of him.”
“Dahk,” Rael proceeded slowly, “is the God of Blood.”
“So, you worship a god of evil?” Cor asked. The very idea made him gaze upon Rael aghast.
“I worship no god, nor is Dahk a god of evil. The gods do not need our worship, and exactly how they choose who among us wield their powers is unknown to us. As I said, Dahk is the God of Blood; all men, good and evil, have blood. It is how you use your power as a Dahken that makes you good or evil. It has no reflection on Him.”
“So, I can use magic?” Cor asked, puzzled.
“Not so much in the sense of the word as you understand it,” replied Rael patiently. “Much of our power is innate, constantly in existence. We do not call on a god to use our powers as the priests of Garod or sorcerers in Losz do. The power is there, and you must simply know how to use it. Some of our powers are universal to all Dahken, while others are not. You will have to discover which powers you have on your own. But there is something about you Cor; I have never felt another Dahken as strikingly as you.”
“What does that mean?”
“Do not concern yourself with that too much for now. Let me just say, it is how I came to find you, and how I knew you had returned to the West,” Rael explained. “It is why you came with me. Our power comes from our blood, and it sometimes tells us what we should do.”
After breakfast, they returned to the study where Cor took a chair. Rael handed him a parchment scroll tied with a single silk cord.
“Begin with this,” he said.
“What is it?” Cor asked without untying it.
“It is a brief history of the West by the Chronicler. When you are finished, find me outside.”