THE INNER LIGHT - Ch.3 "Swordsman"

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Big stuff happening. The kick-in-the-pants for the story. Archiving permission granted.
 


THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

Synopsis: Jonny's desitny is revealed.

"THE INNER LIGHT", chapter 3

by Eric R. Umali

"Swordsman"

The viewing screen blinked out, then was filled with static. Dr. Quest and Hadji began frantically trying to get the signal back, but the entire system seemed to have taken on a life of its own. They were forced to accept the fact that they would have to watch Jonny and Jessie's story unfold before them, powerless to interfere.

Slowly, the picture returned.

**********

Six years passed like quicksilver.

Jonathor rose quickly through the ranks at the training enclave, excelling in all areas. He could ride, fight, shoot, and even write better than any of his peers. By the age of sixteen, the daily exertion and careful diet he was given forged his body to its physical peak-his muscles were like whipcord, and he was faster than anyone his instructors had ever seen.

Raece hand taken a keen interest in the boy. They spent much time together, and at his feet Jonny learned twice what he was taught by his other instructors. Raece saw to it that Jonathor would be the finest warrior ever produced by the school. Raece told him often that he was readying for a great destiny.

One night, he was taken to a part of the enclave he'd never seen before.

**********

Jessamyn proved to be a stellar pupil as well, and by the same time, she was casting spells and displaying powers magicians twice her age had yet to master. Ancient tongues not spoken aloud for millennia became second nature to her, as did the vast knowledge of the world's flora she would need. Since the casting of spells required much of her physical energy, she had a strenuous training regimen of her own. The mystical energies and physical prowess she would need as a sorceress manifested themselves quickly and dramatically.

She was also fussed over as befitted someone of her state, and her appearance was looked after religiously by Estella. By the time she was fourteen, a dozen suitors had already petitioned her guardian for her hand, and each year the number grew. Fortunately for her, Jessamyn was being groomed for some special destiny that had never been revealed to her, and all proposals were flatly turned down. When nearly seventeen, she was both the most sought after maiden in the kingdom and one of its most powerful spellcasters.

Professor Bentonus summoned her one night to a special ceremony.

**********

Jonathor was led to a large stone chamber that looked very much like a chapel. It was longer than it was wide, and had a central aisle with rows of benches to either side. At the apse of the chamber was a large, roughly hewn stone altar.

He had been instructed to wear his best dress clothing, and so he had chosen a long-sleeved cotton tunic and suede leggings with high leather riding boots, a long leather vest, a wide belt and leather gauntlets. Shining light metal armor hung at his shoulders and covered most of his left forearm. Everything had been polished and oiled in preparation. Jonathor had let his blond hair grow long, and it was now pulled back in a neat tail.

Jonathor was led solemnly to the altar with Raece at his side, who was wearing his finest tartan kilt and the rest of his highland regalia. Behind the altar, standing in the blaze of light provided by high overhead torches, stood a hooded figure. When Jonathor had reached the apse, he knelt, as did Raece.

The figure removed his hood. He had strong, young features and a dark complexion. His black hair was pulled back and hung behind him, and he wore a wide white headband with a jewel at its middle.

"You have been told, young Jonathor, that fate has selected you for a very important destiny?" He spoke with a strange accent, but with careful, precise words.

"Yes, but that destiny has never been revealed to me."

"It shall tonight. But first, it is time for the final rite which will make you a true warrior. Stand, Jonathor, and approach." He did so. The dark figure produced a wrapped bundle from beneath the heavy folds of his robes, and laid it on the altar. He removed the soft leather strips to reveal a gleaming saber. The hilt had a dull jewel embedded on both sides, and wide gold bars stretched away from it. The sword lay glittering in the light, and the dark figure picked it up. He began chanting softly, in a language Jonathor did not understand.

The figure, now glowing with eldritch energy, held the sword, point down, above the altar. There was a flash of light, and he drove the sword a foot into the stone. He kept his hands on the handle.

"Jonathor, grasp the sword and remove it." The glow had not stopped. Jonathor gingerly wrapped his hands around the blade, near the hilt. He began pulling.

Soon, the blade dug into the flesh of his palms, and scarlet streaked the blue-white steel. His eyes shut in exertion, he did not see that the glow had moved from the figure and now enveloped only him and the sword. Finally, it budged. He pulled with everything he had, and the sword inched its way free. With a shout of triumph, he wrenched it clear of the stone.

He opened his eyes, and the magical fire shone in them. He held the sword aloft, the pain in his hands vanishing. The red streaks disappeared, and the jewel in the hilt glowed blood red.

"It is finished," said the figure. "You hold in your hand a soulsword. Your life-force has been bonded to it, and it is now a part of you. Protect it, and it will protect you. And you will need it on your quest."

Jonathor's head snapped up.

"Ye're to leave this place, Jonathor," said Raece. "It's been prophesied that an evil will come and darken the land. Here in the enclave, you know little of the outside, but know now that the evil has come."

The other continued. "An evil mage has begun his enslavement of the kingdom. The wizard, Surd..."

*Surd?! That name...* Jonathor was stunned by the name, but couldn't understand why.

"...has reached out with his dark magicks and takes town after town, castle after castle into his shadow. His minions ride over all who oppose them."

"What is my destiny?"

"Two champions are to arise to face the wizard. One will be a mighty warrior, the other, a powerful magician. Together, and only together, will they defeat him. _You_ are that warrior. Tomorrow you begin the journey that will lead you to the other hero."

"Who is the other?"

"All we know is you will meet your companion when you least expect. And though you know nothing the other, it will be as if you had known each other for a lifetime. The medallion you wear will guide you."

"I understand," said Jonathor, fingering the gold dragon symbol. Raece held out a black leather scabbard and harness, which Jonathor donned, the sword hanging at his hip. Together, they turned and left the chamber.

At sunrise, Jonathor busied himself with preparing for the trip. He wore his battle costume, much the same as the previous night. His few personal belongings and clothes went into saddlebags. He prepared the saddle and its many weapons placements-for his bow and quiver, a short sword, a small buckler, and even his staff. He mounted it all on the back of a massive horse that he had been given a year before. The steed was a smooth white, save for a few black patches, including one around his eyes. They had been in a number of adventures already, and Jonathor could think of no better companion. Except, perhaps, for the burly man who was helping him now.

"Raece, why are you not coming with me?"

"It is nae my destiny, toadwart," he replied.

Jonathor smiled at the nickname his friend still used. "Do you truly believe this prophesy?"

"I believe if any warrior can best this evil mage, it's you. I will be with you in spirit, though."

"Then how can I fail, with both you and Bandit here to protect me?" he said, swinging into the saddle.

The older man laughed, then swatted his mount on the hindquarters. "Good journey," he called out to his young friend. Jonathor trotted out towards the gate, saying good-byes as he went. Soon, the wooden gates were closed behind him.

Jonathor began following the path his destiny had laid for him, wondering to where, and to whom, it would take him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

NEXT: "SORCERESS"