A Banner Torn (Book 1 Complete)

Kaelid:

Morning light filtered through the small window of his room. The amber heartstone crystal sat in his palm, its gentle warmth pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat, sending faint washes of golden color across his vision.

Today was the day. Their first training session with Elder Myra.

He closed his fingers around the crystal. Since returning from the mine, his enhanced senses had manifested unpredictably. Sometimes colors would intensify. Other times, he would notice impossible details, patterns in wooden beams overhead.

"Kaelid!" His mother called. "Breakfast is ready!"

He tucked the crystal into the small pouch he had sewn and hung it around his neck. The weight against his chest was reassuring, a tangible reminder that what he had experienced was real.

Downstairs, his mother was ladling porridge into wooden bowls. She looked up as he entered, her eyes filled with the now-familiar blend of love and concern.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

"Well enough," he replied, not wanting to worry her with the truth that sleep had been elusive.

"You're meeting Elder Myra today, aren't you?"

He nodded. "After chores. Rannek too."

"She's a wise woman, trust her guidance, even if it seems strange at first."

He looked up, surprised. "Have you trained with her before?"

A small smile touched her lips. "Not in the way you will. But she has ways of seeing what others miss." She squeezed his hand briefly. "Now eat. Your chores won't complete themselves."

The morning passed in a blur of routine tasks. Throughout it all, he found his senses shifting. The clucking of the chickens formed patterns, almost like words. The grain of the wooden fence mapped out intricate patterns. The water in the bucket reflected not just the sky but hints of something deeper.

By midday, he had completed his chores and was making his way toward the village center to meet Rannek. He found his friend waiting by the old oak tree.

"Ready?"

Rannek nodded, falling into step beside him as they headed toward Elder Myra's cottage. "Had any more experiences since yesterday?"

"Some. Colors too bright, patterns showing up where they shouldn't. You?"

"Sounds. I woke up last night because I could hear my mother's heartbeat from across the room."

"Do you think she can really help us?"

"I hope so, my mother seems to think she can."

As they approached Elder Myra's cottage, both boys slowed. The cottage itself was modest, made of whitewashed stone with a thatched roof, but the garden surrounding it was unlike anything in the village. Plants grew in seemingly wild profusion, yet there was an underlying order to the chaos.

Herbs grew in concentric circles around a central stone well. Flowering plants formed spiraling patterns. Vegetables and medicinal herbs were interspersed in combinations that complemented each other.

The colors, Kaelid had never seen such vibrant greens, such intense purples and reds and yellows. Each plant seemed to glow with inner vitality.

"Do you see that?" he whispered to Rannek.

"See what?" Rannek asked, looking puzzled.

"The colors. They're so alive."

Rannek shook his head. "They look normal to me. But there's something strange about the sounds here. Like the plants are whispering."

Before he could respond, the cottage door opened, and Elder Myra emerged. Despite her advanced age, she moved with fluid grace. Her silver hair was bound in a braid that wrapped around her head like a crown, and her violet eyes seemed to take in everything at once.

"Kaelid. Rannek," she greeted them with a nod. "You're right on time. Come."

As they approached, he noticed the plants nearest to Elder Myra seemed to lean toward her slightly. When she passed a wilting flower, her hand brushed its stem, and the bloom visibly straightened, its petals unfurling with renewed vigor.

Elder Myra led them deeper into the garden, to a small clearing surrounded by tall herbs with silvery-green leaves. In the center was a simple arrangement, three flat stones placed in a triangle around a shallow clay bowl filled with clear water.

"Sit," she instructed. She settled herself on the third stone.

"Before we begin, I want you to understand something. What I teach isn't magic as the stories tell it. No spells. No incantations. Just the knowledge of how to listen to what the world already says."

She gestured to the plants surrounding them. "Every living thing speaks, if you know how to hear it. Plants, animals, the earth itself, all are engaged in constant conversation. Most humans have forgotten how to listen. But you two," her gaze settled on him, "you are beginning to remember."

"Remember?" Rannek asked. "But we've never known how to do any of this before."

Elder Myra smiled. "The knowledge is in your bones, in your blood. It is the oldest wisdom of our kind, from when we lived in closer harmony with the world. The crystal shards you absorbed have simply awakened what was already there, dormant."

She turned her attention to the bowl of water between them. "Today, we will start with the simplest exercise, learning to see beyond seeing, to hear beyond hearing." She passed her hand over the water's surface. "Close your eyes, tell me what you sense."

He closed his eyes. At first, there was nothing but darkness. Then, gradually, he became aware of something else. A subtle rhythm, like a heartbeat but slower, steadier. With each pulse, a faint wash of green-gold light passed across the darkness behind his eyelids.

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"There's a pulse, like in the mine, but gentler. And I see colors with each beat, green and gold."

"Good," Elder Myra's voice came from what seemed like a great distance. "Rannek?"

"I don't see colors, but I hear whispers, not words exactly. More like intentions. And I can tell where everything is around me, even with my eyes closed."

Elder Myra looked at them for a second. "Also good. You are each sensing in your own way, which is as it should be."

Kaelid felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. "Open your eyes now, but try to maintain awareness of what you sensed."

He opened his eyes, blinking in the sudden brightness. The world looked different somehow, sharper, more defined. The plants around them seemed to pulse with that same green-gold light he had seen behind closed eyelids, though fainter now.

Elder Myra was watching them both thoughtfully. "The pulse you feel, Kaelid, is what the Petrakahrn call the Deep-Pulse, the rhythmic energy that flows through all living things. It exists everywhere, in everything that lives."

She turned to Rannek. "And what you hear, Rannek, are the voices of living things expressing their nature. Not thoughts as we understand them, but something more fundamental, the pure expression of being."

She reached into a pouch at her belt and withdrew two small objects, placing one before each boy. They were seeds, large, dark seeds with intricate patterns on their surfaces.

"Hold these," Elder Myra instructed. "Close your fingers around them and listen."

He picked up his seed, surprised by its weight. It felt warm in his palm, almost alive. He closed his fingers around it and concentrated.

Faintly, he felt it, a tiny pulse within the seed, so subtle he might have missed it if not for his enhanced senses. Each pulse brought a flash of green, and a sense of potential, of something waiting to emerge.

"It's alive, I can feel its heartbeat."

She nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "All seeds are alive, dormant but ready to grow when conditions are right. What else do you sense?"

Kaelid closed his eyes again. "It wants to grow. I can feel its intention, like it's straining toward something."

"Yes," Elder Myra said softly. "Life seeks expression. It is the fundamental nature of all living things." She turned to Rannek. "And you?"

Rannek's face was a study in concentration. "I hear not words, but it's like I know what it would say if it could speak. It wants water, and soil, and light. Is… is that normal?"

"Normal?" Elder Myra laughed. "No, it is not normal. But it is natural for those with the gift to hear." She gestured for them to keep the seeds. "These are heartwood tree seeds. They are rare and difficult to grow, but they have powerful properties for those who can nurture them. Your first task will be to plant these and help them sprout."

She rose with fluid grace. "Come. There is more to show you."

Elder Myra led them to a small shed built against the back of her cottage. Inside, shelves lined the walls, filled with jars of dried herbs, bottles of liquids in various colors, and bundles of plants hanging from the ceiling to dry.

"This is where I prepare medicines," she explained. "Healing is one of the oldest arts, and one that benefits greatly from the ability to truly communicate with plants."

She selected several dried herbs from different jars, placing them in a small stone mortar. "Each plant has its own nature, its own properties. But when you can hear their voices, you can combine them in ways that enhance their natural strengths."

As she spoke, she began grinding the herbs with a pestle, her movements rhythmic and precise. With each turn of the pestle, he saw flashes of color emanating from the mixture, pulses of green and gold and occasionally deep purple.

"Are you doing something to make them glow?" he asked.

Elder Myra paused, looking at him with those penetrating violet eyes. "You see the energies being released. Most cannot perceive them without years of training."

"I see them too," Rannek added. "Not as colors, but as patterns in the air. Like ripples."

Elder Myra nodded, resuming her work. "What you are seeing is the life essence of the plants being transformed. Even dried, they retain some of their vital energy. When combined properly, these energies can be directed toward specific purposes."

She added a small amount of liquid from a clear bottle, turning the powder into a paste. "This salve will draw infection from wounds and speed healing. But its effectiveness relies not just on the plants themselves but on the intention and understanding of the one who prepares it."

Elder Myra led them back outside, to another part of the garden where young plants were just beginning to emerge from the soil. She knelt beside a row of seedlings.

"These are moonflower seedlings, they're struggling because the soil here is too acidic for their liking." She placed her hands on either side of one seedling, not quite touching it. "Watch."

Kaelid focused on the small plant. Gradually, he began to see a faint glow emanating from Elder Myra's hands, a soft white light that flowed toward the seedling. As the light enveloped the plant, its leaves visibly straightened and took on a healthier green hue.

"What did you do?" Rannek asked.

"I listened to what it needed, and then I helped it find the strength to adapt to conditions that aren't ideal. This is not changing the plant's nature, but supporting it, encouraging what is already there."

She gestured to two other struggling seedlings. "Now you try. Place your hands near the plants, as I did. Close your eyes and listen for what they need."

He positioned himself before one of the seedlings, placing his hands on either side as Elder Myra had demonstrated. He closed his eyes and tried to focus.

Gradually, he began to perceive a faint, flickering presence, like a candle flame struggling against the wind. The seedling's life force was weak, faltering.

Without thinking about how, he reached out with his awareness, trying to understand what the plant needed. A sense of thirst came to him, not as words but as a feeling of dryness, of roots straining toward moisture that wasn't there.

"It needs water," he murmured.

She nodded. "And what will you do about that?"

He hesitated. "I don't know. I don't have any water here."

"Don't you?" Elder Myra's violet eyes held his. "Think. Feel. What is your body made of, in large part?"

Understanding dawned. "Blood. Water."

"Yes. Your life water flows within you, carrying your essence. You can share a small portion of that essence, that intention, with the plant." She gestured to the seedling. "Again, imagine a small stream of water flowing from your hands to the roots. Not physical water, but the essence of water."

Kaelid closed his eyes again and placed his hands near the seedling. He imagined water flowing from his palms, cool and life-giving, seeping into the soil around the struggling plant.

To his astonishment, he felt something respond, a subtle shift in the plant's energy. When he opened his eyes, the seedling looked slightly more vibrant, its leaves a shade greener than before.

"I felt it respond," he said. "Did I really help it?"

"You did," she confirmed. "In a small way, but significant for a first attempt." She turned to Rannek. "And you?"

Rannek was still sitting with his eyes closed. "I can hear it," he said softly. "It's too crowded. The roots of the plants next to it are taking all the space."

Elder Myra nodded thoughtfully. She reached down and carefully extracted the seedling next to Rannek's, roots and all. With practiced movements, she replanted it a short distance away.

"Now try again. See if you can encourage your seedling to spread its roots into the newly available space."

After a few moments, a small smile touched his lips. "It's responding," he said. "I can feel it exploring the new space."

When he opened his eyes, the seedling looked stronger, its stem straighter, its leaves more fully extended.

Elder Myra studied both boys with those penetrating violet eyes. "You both have natural talent. Different in expression, but equally strong. Kaelid, you perceive and influence energy directly. Rannek, you hear and speak to the essence of things."

She rose to her feet. "That's enough for today. Take your seeds home. Plant them in small pots with good soil. Water them, but not too much. Speak to them daily. Listen for their needs."

As they prepared to leave, Elder Myra placed a hand on each boy's shoulder. "What you are learning to perceive and influence is not to be used carelessly. All life deserves respect. All energy has consequences when manipulated. Remember that."

He nodded, feeling the weight of her words. The seed in his pocket seemed to pulse in response, a tiny heartbeat echoing his own.

"We'll remember," Rannek promised.

As they walked back through the garden toward the village, Kaelid found himself seeing the world differently. Every plant they passed seemed to glow with its own inner light. Every breeze carried whispers he could almost understand. The world had always been alive, he realized. He just hadn't been able to perceive it before.

"Do you think we'll ever be able to do what she does?" Rannek asked.

"I don't know, but I want to try."

As they reached the edge of the village, they paused, each needing to head in a different direction toward home.

"Tomorrow, same time?" Rannek asked.

He nodded, feeling the weight of the seed in his pocket, the promise of something new beginning. "Tomorrow."