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A man only sees his destiny as he stands at the precipice of the unknown, and he only achieves it with the courage, at that moment, to step forward.
-Musings of the Historian
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SADAVIR TOOK TO THE new challenge with the same intensity that he had met all the others. Every day, in spite of his mother’s worried looks, he would walk out behind the house where the fearsome semicircle patiently waited for him. He would twist the levers on all of the launchers until they were all loaded, and then stand in the circle while either Aric or I started the stone balls rolling down their ramps.
Each time, he would dodge faster, or knock the balls out of the air before they could touch him, but each time, one would eventually find a way through his defenses and his mother would find one more bruise to frown at.
Aric, for his part, made sure that the challenge kept up with Sadavir. At night, he would change the launchers so that they would aim at different heights and launch at different times. That way, Sadavir could never get used to any particular rhythm or pattern.
An entire year passed before Sadavir could successfully stand in the circle and dodge or deflect all of the balls launched at him until all of the stone balls rolled out the bottom of their ramps and came to a stop on the soft ground. His mother clapped with joy.
His father, with a mischievous look on his face, pulled a pack of metal strips from a sack and moved around to all the launchers, placing an extra strip next to the one already there. Having reloaded all of the launchers and pulling all of the levers to set them, we again set the balls rolling. Sadavir stood ready. The first one out of the launchers took Sadavir by surprise, as it shot out at twice the speed he was used to. He still managed to dodge or block about seven, but again one slipped through and again Sadavir was knocked out of the circle, gasping for breath after being hit much harder than ever before. The look Lauria shot at Aric was so fierce and Aric’s expression so sheepish that I couldn’t help but laugh.
Sadavir was well into his nineteenth year before he could stand successfully against all of the launched wooden balls. Once again, Aric pulled a new bag of strips from his side and added a third strip to the launchers.
This time was more somber, however. With two strips adding force to the launch, Sadavir had already suffered a broken toe, a couple of broken fingers, and had even spent a few weeks bed-ridden with some broken ribs. I worried that if the new strips were like the last, then any ball that made it through his blocks might seriously injure him, or even kill him.
Sadavir seemed to sense the same thing and stood firmly in his circle, his fists clenched tight, the lean cords of muscle in his arms standing out like steel cables.
Something was different. I couldn’t believe Aric would endanger his son’s life so casually. I had no idea what he was thinking. Judging from the look on his face, he wasn’t quite sure himself. Still, his determination was complete.
Lauria looked desperately at Aric, then at me, silently asking us not to go through with it. Not finding any give in Aric, and only quiet observation on my part, she turned and fled into the house, determined not to be a witness to what was about to happen. Although I shared her worry, I would not interfere. Aric remained stoic, but the heaving of his chest and the muffled sound of heavy breathing betrayed his anxiety.
With very strong tugs on the levers to load all of the launchers, it was a tense moment as we set the stone balls rolling down their ramps. I stood back to witness whatever might come. Aric’s gaze was intense as he watched his son. He seemed to be waiting for something, expecting it.
Sadavir’s face was like the steel he wore on his arms, determination etched deep into his face. The thing that caught and held my eye, however, was his Stone. It had been a permanent fixture for his whole life, so it had faded from conscious observation. I had stopped noticing it entirely.
I noticed it now.
I had seen it ripple faintly before, but now it shimmered and danced with a strange, dark light. It was as if all the darkest nights I had ever known had been trapped within that Stone and now fought to break free. I believe this is what Aric had been waiting for.
I flinched as the first ball shot out at Sadavir. For a moment, time stood still as my mind registered how fast the ball had left the launcher, it would certainly be fatal. Aric had gone too far, made a horrible mistake, I thought in that instant where only thought exists, independent of time.
Sadavir's arm blurred and the ball burst into pieces as the steel armband crashed into it. What I then witnessed, I will never forget; and the skill displayed, I have never seen matched. Each ball or even several balls would fire at him and each time they would be destroyed midair .
Sadavir’s eyes fixed a steady gaze forward, not even looking side to side at the incoming projectiles. He seemed to be in a trance, similar to what I had seen in Aric when his Stone was alight.
His arms blurred and whipped in front of him and to both sides as if driven by their own life force. His body twisted one way or another with blinding speed. The Stone hanging around his chest blazed as if lit by black fire. Time seemed to hang, meaningless.
Cracking and snapping sounds twitched the air like the breaking of bones as Sadavir became an impenetrable force. Sound itself seemed to be out of sync. At last the stone balls finished their courses and the launchers fell silent.
Sadavir stood in the faded white circle, his gaze still fixed forward, arms quivering at his sides. Around him was a widespread pile of destruction. Whether in halves or reduced to splinters, not a single wooden ball had survived the ordeal.
I looked over at Aric. He nodded slowly, but his mind looked to be a million miles away. He looked at his son with an unreadable gaze. What he felt at that moment, I will never be able to say, what mixture of pride, awe, and maybe even a little fear.
The black Stone slowly dimmed and Sadavir slowly revived from his trance-like state. He looked toward his father.
“Papa, my arms hurt,” was all he said.
The armbands had bent onto his forearms. One of them we were able to unclasp, the other Aric had to carefully remove with his blacksmith tools. When we reentered the house, Lauria ran to her son and clutched him to her in an embrace that lasted several minutes. Sadavir did not object or squirm, he only returned the embrace. Dinner was eaten in silence. Finally, Aric pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Sadavir, come here.”
The young man quickly obeyed.
“Umm,” Aric seemed unsure of how to proceed. “I have taught you everything I can. You are now ready to take your place as a defender of this people. Are you ready to take on this responsibility?”
Sadavir was silent, his eyes sunk until he stood looking at his feet.
“Son, are you having second thoughts?” Aric gently asked.
“Papa, I’m afraid,” Sadavir answered, avoiding his father's eyes.
Aric’s eyes held great depths of emotion, his voice cracked as he answered.
“Son, after what I have seen you do, I don’t think any Destroyers could hurt you. I’ll make you new armbands, stronger ones. But you still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
Sadavir shook his head. “Papa, you didn’t understand. I am not afraid of the Destroyers.” He paused a moment before continuing.
“I am afraid of myself.”
Aric looked to his wife, then back to his son.
“Why do you say that, son?”
“I can kill, Papa. I never have, but I know that I can. How will I not lose my soul? How will I keep my honor?”
Aric looked as if someone had hit him in the stomach with one of his own hammers. He had obsessed with every part of his boy’s training ever since the day Sadavir had been born, but this question he had never expected nor prepared for. Aric looked around desperately but found no help. Lauria had begun crying softly.
It is my part only to observe, never to play an active part in the stories that I tell, but sitting at that table and hearing the deafening silence that followed that question, I heard myself answering the question.
“I too have the power to kill, Sadavir,” I began. “I could easily wait for someone to pass under a roof and I could drop a large stone onto their head. I could also hold someone under water until they were dead. All men have that power, to take life from others. This is a very frightening power.
“The thing you need to understand is that this power needs to be limited by rules and responsibility. There are only two reasons to kill, Sadavir: to save your own life or to save the lives of others. All other reasons change and shift with time, just as the mountains rise and fall.
“You have the power to kill, yes, you could even do it very easily. But you have another power, the power of choice. You have the skill to ensure that you will only kill when necessary, no one can make you kill against your will, that choice belongs only to you. You will know when it is time. You will keep your honor.”
Sadavir was satisfied and turned back to his father, resolved.
“Papa, I am ready to become a protector of this people.”
Aric smiled proudly and put his hand on Sadavir’s shoulder. The look he shot me spoke of endless gratitude for answering the question he could not.
“When I finally became a true blacksmith after being an apprentice for many years, there was a ceremony where I was presented with a new hammer that had never been used to begin my new life as a blacksmith. I can’t think of a ceremony that we could have for you; your tools are your hands, your feet, and your wits. So, I suggest that I shake your hand and you hug your mother. Be sure to take your handkerchief.”
Sadavir smiled and took his father’s outstretched hand, gripping it firmly. He then walked over to his mother and gave her a hug as she smiled and sniffled through her tears of many emotions.