Lucian's Trial
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About this ebook
Lucian must choose to live a lie and remain with his people, or wander the mountains with Dara in search of answers even the masters of their tribe are too superstitious to answer.
S. B. Sebrick
S. B. Sebrick was raised in Vancouver, Washington and currently attends college at Brigham Young University-Idaho. He recently published the first book in his Assassin’s Rising series, DECOY, and often posts updates and teasers about the rest of the series from his website at http://sbsebrick.wordpress.com.
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Lucian's Trial - S. B. Sebrick
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Lucian’s Trial
If you cinch that belt any tighter you’re going to split me in half!
Lucian snapped, trying to dissuade the soft but determined hands tugging on his ceremonial garb. He bit back an additional retort when Andan flashed him a playfully threatening glance. The same expression he’d used when his son had struggled to walk as a toddler.
Lucian only gritted his teeth and grunted in discontent. When will my growth spurt start? he mourned inwardly at his small sixteen-year-old frame. Maybe once I’m staring down at him, and not the other way around, Father will cease making that annoying face!
I will not have my only son looking like a child who just finished playing in the mud!
Andan scolded. You’ll look the part of a proper Hitalii at the ceremony, not like some children your age that enter the field looking like they slept in their Succor Garb!
He raised Lucian’s arms into the air on either side. His fingers ran along the strands of blue and green fabric hanging from the left cuff, braiding them together tightly to ensure they wouldn’t come apart during the day’s exertions.
Lucian sighed, glancing toward the faint light of dawn peeking through the open window. Most of us do sleep in our clothes the night before the Trials, he thought, glancing his father’s way with a softer expression. This gear is impossible to prepare in the morning, unless you know someone willing to wake before the sun to help you with the preparations.
Andan moved to the right arm and repeated the procedure. Linen cloth soaked in precious soulroot sap added an extra softness to the fabric. Lucian’s trousers and shoes were made of tough brown leather for the trails and stone paths behind the village.
His shirt was dark blue with strips of green fabric twisted and sewn into it at the sleeves and the cuffs, trailing into a blue and green braid for another foot or so. According to his trainers, the colors symbolized the various aspects of their power, but Lucian hardly paid attention to such details. Not with the Trials at his very doorstep.
Lucian chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously. After today, he would cease to be a mere apprentice. Passing this trial meant earning respect in the eyes of the Elders and hopefully finding answers to questions he couldn’t even ask his father— questions about her death.
Failure today meant a year’s wait till the next Trial, a year longer without the answers he sought, and a lifetime remembered as a second-rate healer who failed to perform the first time. Andan deserved better from his only son.
His father tapped his son’s nose affectionately. Recall your thought triggers,
he advised. You have to keep the memories fresh in order to keep your power as potent as possible,
He dipped his hand in a bucket of water at his side and ran his fingers through Lucian’s thick, disheveled brown hair. His son managed to partially muffle a gasp as the water worked its way under his collar and down his back.
Andan chuckled. You will have to maintain them during moments of distraction as well,
he reminded, dipping his hand into the bucket again. This time Lucian did not make a sound, but the shadows vanished from the dim, fire-lit room as his hands glowed white momentarily.
Lucian clenched his fists, forcing the light to abate. For the love of the Hitalli! he grumbled inwardly. How can I become a priest if I can’t even stand up to a simple distraction? He glanced his father’s way. Once I pass the Trial, everything will change. Jerek and his friends will have to stop beating me up for fun. Perhaps the Elders will even trust me enough to tell me what really happened to her. There’s no way Mother died while traveling as they say, not after the note she left me suggesting so much more.
His father smiled at Lucian’s glowing hands, oblivious to his son’s inner thoughts and laughed out loud. Well, it does comfort me you can summon your power at will,
he admitted. But remember your Trial will be about controlling it. Too much power is as undesirable as none at all in the Elders’ eyes.
The Sorens don’t have that problem,
Lucian complained, as Andan stepped back, eyeing his handiwork with a satisfied glance. The more power one of them has the better.
His father’s gaze shifted to Lucian’s eyes, his expression dark. "Each person