The Calling

Thump, thump, thump the ball went down the stairs as the two brothers stood and watched. The younger of the two, Rathnel started to head down the stairs after it only to find himself pulled back by his older brother. The words of protest where on his lips but they fell short. Both sons’ knew the rule; never go down into the cellar alone. It was the one rule that their father had given them. Most of their rules came from their mother yet this was the only rule ever given to them by their father.

“Let me go! I have to get my ball back. If ma sees it down there I am gonna get in trouble again.”

“No! We are not allowed down there without one of them. You know that Rath.” The serious young man told his little brother. “Just tell ma it was an accident, she will get it for you later.”

“I can’t do that! The same thing happened yesterday, I know she is gonna tan my hide for this. She yelled at me the whole time about trying to find a reason to sneak around down there. Will you please get it for me? Ma won’t be back from the market for a while. I can see it from right here, if I can’t get it, you do it.” The youngster said while pointing down into the dark cellar.

“No!” Zender shouted at his brother. “Now go back outside before I tan your hide. If I don’t finish these lessons I will join you on the chopping block. Just leave me alone.”

“Please Zender!” he cried, as the tears had started to run down his face. Zender shook his head at his brother as he sat back down at the kitchen table to finish his lessons. When Zender picked his writing quill up, Rath started to wail. While the math lesson was easy to him, he could not concentrate on the numbers with his brother standing five feet away, crying at the top of his lungs. After a while the young man could only sigh to himself.

“Fine, I will get it for you. You better keep your mouth shut though, if ma finds out I was down there I will know it was you.” As soon as he agreed to retrieve the ball, the tears and screaming stopped. Zender wondered if Rath had just put on a show for him. Rathnel knew how much his brother hated hearing him cry. As he put the quill down again he went to the kitchen window to look out, seeing if he could see his mother returning from the market. “You go stand outside, if you see ma, you better holler out to me. I mean it Rath, if I get caught down there.” Zender shook his fist at his younger brother. While the two loved each other, Rath did all he could to avoid his older brothers temper. This meant he did everything his brother told him to do when he was told to do it. Zender watched as he brother ran out of the house and to the road that lead to the old farm house. When he was in the middle of the dusty road, Zender waved at him and turned towards the cellar steps.

This was only the second time the young man tempted fate by coming down these stairs. Much like his younger brother, he wanted to know what was down there. From the top of the stairs you could see the dried good his mother stored down below in the cool darkness. Bags of grain and flower were stacked up next to several water barrels. Zender counted the steps as he went down, thirteen was as far as he had ever gone. When he got to thirteen he could see most of the dark room. Strange objects lined the walls and a large cloth covered table stood in the center of the room. The first time he dared to brave the steps, he saw that table and something made him turn and run back up. Something about the sight of it made him uneasy.

This time, he could not stop at thirteen. Twenty steps down he went to the cellar floor, looking around the room he saw that his father had moved the table against the far wall. As he reached down to pick up his brothers ball he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Just a subtle flash like the sun shining on the water as it rippled. Standing up straight, ball in hand he looked to see what might have caused it. Stepping into the darkness, away from the light coming from above Zender could see the various weapons lining the wall. His father had amassed a large collection of weapons over the years, most of them he took from the people he hunted. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see more and more shapes standing out to him. He could now see the shelf along the wall. As he got closer he could see all the other items laid out, daggers of different sizes and shapes. In the center of the shelf was a small chest, there was a lock hanging from the hasp in front but it was unlocked. It was then that he saw it happen again.

Zender froze as a single pulse of light escaped from the edges of the chest, even with the lid closed light managed to escape and reflect off the weapons on the wall behind it. His first thought was to run as fast as he could, yet his feet would not move. His mind was screaming for him to run as he took another step forward towards the chest. As a third pulse of light came from the chest, Zender abandoned all hope of avoiding punishment and went to the chest. Sliding the lock off the hasp, he set it on the shelf next to a pair of metal stars. As he opened the lid, he saw what looked to be a few lose gems and a ring or two. In the center of it all was a round silver medallion; on it was the image of a dragon with its wings wrapped around what looked to be the sun. As he reached for it, it let out one last small pulse of light. That light filled his day and made him forget about any trouble he might be in. It filled him with warmth and as he slipped it into his pocket, he knew it was there for him. He only had to come down and find it.

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Days went by and Zender kept the find in the cellar to himself. He knew what the symbols on the medallion were; he had seen them at the new temple in town. He just wanted to understand why? His father was away, working for a local merchant guarding his goods during transport. His mother wasn’t going to be much of a help as she did not care to discuss things of a spiritual nature with her children. Zender knew that while she was a good woman, deep inside she was bitter over the loss of her brother. He had died at a young age and then her father passed a few short months after that. Also, Zender knew better than to tell his mother that he had been in the cellar, let alone that he took something from there. He knew that there was only one place he was going to get answers to the questions he had: the temple of Solarth in Eystlundtowne.

One month after finding the medallion Zender and his family loaded up in the wagon to head into town. Zender rode in the back of the wagon, his legs hanging off the back, while his mother and brother sat together up front. He kept his hand on the medallion in the pocket of his trousers all the way to town. He held it so tight, he imagined the image of the dragon being imprinted on his palm. Not that he dared pull it out to look, he had to hold onto it until they reached town so he could go to the temple. His worst fear at that moment was his mother seeing him with it, taking it away. As the wagon came to a stop, he looked around at where they were. The two large K’s on the sign told him just where they were, Keller Kromwell’s shop. He was the merchant that Windfall was working for; part of his pay was food and seed to be given to his family for free. Zender knew he had to get away from his mother and brother. So he thought of the one thing she wouldn’t object to.

“Hey Ma! I am gonna run over to the Green’s store. Keller doesn’t carry books.” Before she could anything he was off at a run. Just before he rounded the corner of the next street he thought he heard her shout something about his father. Not that he cared about that. He had been waiting for this day ever since he came back up those twenty cellar steps. Nothing could stop him now; he swore his feet were no longer touching the ground as he sprinted through the streets. The temple was only a few more streets away; there he would find the answers he longed for. When the temple was in sight, he picked up the pace. Running through the crowded streets most people did not notice the odd looking boy, running with one hand in his pocket. Not until he ran headlong into another child with a stack of books as tall as his arms were long.

“Fool! Watch where you are going!” The man in red robes shouted at Zender. “You could have damaged my apprentice. Even worse, you could have damaged my books.” Zender kept his head down, not wanting to look into the face of the screaming man. He just scrambled to help the other child pick up the books. Zender looked at the other child as he handed him a stack of books. He was dressed in dark gray robes with a hood over his head. Darker still were the eyes that looked back at Zender. Zender felt bad and wanted to tell the boy he was sorry yet something kept him from speaking. Perhaps it was the single tear on the other child’s face but Zender couldn’t find the words. As he handed the boy the last of the books, the child in the gray robes looked down his nose and sneered as he turned away to follow after his master. After that Zender walked the rest of the way to the temple.

The temple of Solarth had only been open for a few years. While there had always been a temple of Solarth in that spot, it did not survive the fall of the order over a hundred years before. The few priest in the temple worked night and day to get the temple into living shape. Zender looked at the walls and could still see the scorch marks on the walls from when followers of Asmodeus burned it to the ground. Along with several priest that were still inside of the temple at the time. When the order first returned to claim the temple, many man hours were spent trying to restore the old building. While for the most part, it was finished yet it still needed a lot of work. The church only lacked the funds to have the work completed. As Zender entered the temple grounds he didn’t see anyone around. There were no priests working on the modest garden or white washing the walls. He just walked straight up the main path to the temple doors and let himself in.

Standing in the vestibule he looked side to side, there was still not a soul in sight. Shaking his head he moved into the main temple, he looked up at the door frame. He could see the doors that should be there in his mind but they were years from being placed. Walking down the center aisle Zender could see where the pews had once been. There were only a handful of them in the temple now. It would seem that the only thing in side of the temple that had been fully restored was the altar. Zender had his eyes locked on the altar; so much so that he never saw the robed figure that had entered the temple behind him. Zender pulled out the medallion when he reached the foot of the altar, holding it reverently in both hands as he went down to his knees. For the first time in his life, Zender opened up his heart and started to pray. With his eyes shut tight, he spoke to the good god Solarth, seeking answers to his questions.


Bishop Frost had been one of the first humans to join the Order of Solarth when it had first started to attract followers again, he was a massive man who had spent most of his life working as a mason. The leadership of the order knew this; they also knew the amount of work that would be needed to repair the temple in Eystlund. So they chose someone that at least had an idea about how to care for the building before they filled it with the faithful followers they were expecting to flock to them. While Frost believed that the temple foundation was sound, he still did not like the idea of people living in the temple yet. He was good with stone work but the walls of the temple were old, far older than he had ever seen. He had sent a dispatch to a local stone workers guild to have the walls inspected, when they could not set his mind at ease, he reached farther out to a dwarven mason he knew in Arcadia. He had been expecting him on this very day when he saw the strange young man enter the temple. While he had been witness to people coming into the temple to pray, never had he seen someone so young. What he witnessed next he never told another soul, it was something he took to his grave.


The Bishop was never a patient man before he took to the robe. He knew this deep inside and it was something he tried to work on but after close to an hour of watching the young man pray, he started to walk up the aisle. No more than three steps later he felt something pull on the back of his robe. Irritated the Bishop turned around to see who it was, yet there was no one there. It wasn’t until he turned back around did he understand why he was stalled. It was on this day, at this time that his god chose to speak to him. Gone was the boy he had seen enter the temple, in his place was a man. Armor covered this man, a robe of white covered the armor. A shield was strapped to his back and a war hammer hung from his hip. Frost could see the blood stains on the robes, some looked to be fresh, others to be very old. As the image of the man before him started to glow with a faint white light, Bishop Frost went down to one knee. His mind went back to the newly printed book he had been given only a few years before.

While Frost had never been too fond of reading, he knew the value of the book he had been given. From the time it hit his hands, he studied the volume cover to cover several times. It told of the core beliefs of their order, the story of creation and the history of the order. The teachings of their god and wisdom from the orders founding members, thousands of years before. When he came to Eystlund he had been given several copies to share with others like him. Who wanted to learn of the good god and all that he stands for. The passage that came to his mind as he saw the image before him was one he had enjoyed reading. It told of priest who had been given the right to take up arms in the name of the good god. Clerics who walked the land, fighting evil in any form it may take. Frost always wondered if he had been younger if he would have been given that privilege. Now he smiled to himself knowing that he had been chosen to guide those who had found their way to him. As the image of the armored man faded away, only the boy was left behind. As Frost got back to his feet, the boy did as well.

“Oh! I am sorry, I didn’t know anyone was here.” Zender said to him.

“That is quite alright young man. I am Bishop Frost, how may I help you?” He said as he started to walk forward.

“My name is Zender. I found this, well it kinda found me I guess.” He said as he held out the old medallion. The Bishop looked down at the medallion, then looked down at his own that was resting on his chest. His was only the blazing sun, it covered most of his holy symbol. The one the boy was holding out to him was quite different, it also looked to be much older. Frost knew of the significance of the silver dragon but the heads of the order did not want to promote that image. Yet it was still there in the text, things they dared not to change, only ignored.

“Where did you find this master Zender?” He asked.

“Well…” the child paused to look around, making sure they were alone. “I found it down in my root cellar. My father keeps a lot of stuff down there. Dangerous stuff that we are not supposed to go near. He just doesn’t want us to get hurt or anything.”

“How old are you boy?”

“I will be fourteen on the first day of Quintalas.”

“Tell me Zender, what do you think of the temple?”

“It will get better. I think… I think I am supposed to help you or something. I was up there a long time and I started to feel something. It felt like I belong here. Does that make any sense to you?”

“Yes Zender, it does. Come with me young man.” The Bishop turned on his heel and walked out of the main temple turning right once he was past where the doors should be. Zender had to run just to catch up with the Bishop. Zender followed him down a long hallway that seemed to slope down the farther it went. It emptied out into a large room. “This will be the temples dining room and kitchen when it is finished. There are only five of us here right now so there isn’t a need for it right away. The food we grow outside goes to the local families that cannot pay for what they need. It isn’t much but it is a start.” The Bishop then continued to walk through the large room and down a second hallway. Zender then saw what looked to be the only room inside the temple with a door on it. The Bishop opened the door and waved him in.

“This is my humble quarters. It is totally underground but it is away from the main walls of the temple. I can sleep here on the nights I work too late and not worry about the temple crashing down on top of me.” Zender watched the older man move around the room. First pulling a single book down from the only bookcase in the room. Next he opened a small chest, much like the one Zender found his medallion in. From it he pulled out a length of leather cord. “Hold the book and hand me the medallion you found.” Zender hesitated at first but did not feel any ill will from the man so he handed it over. Zender watched as he attached the leather cord to the medallion. “I do not know why it came to you today. I have always known that there was something missing from my life. I didn’t know what it was until a few years ago. Yet I see you, so young and bright, so I ask myself what could be missing from his life? Is that what made you come here, you found this trinket and knew you had to come?”

“Yes. I didn’t know where else to go with it. I didn’t know what it meant until I was at the altar. I couldn’t talk to my parents about it, they wouldn’t understand.”

“Some of the more romantic members of my order call what happened to you the Calling. When the good god first reached out and touched your soul, letting you know that you had a higher purpose in life. While I won’t argue against it, I am a simple man and I don’t think it is as complicated as all of that. Ahhh, there we go.” The Bishop held up the medallion by the leather cord for him to see. As he handed it back to Zender he said “Hang that around your neck, let it rest against your heart under your shirt. Keep it with you always. The book is the prayer book of Solarth. Some of it will be beyond your understanding but study it still. The god has something in mind for you young man. I am not sure what it is but there is no doubting it. Now, would you like me to come with you to speak with your parents? They might need some help in understanding this.”

Zender looked long and hard at Bishop Frost and nodded his head yes. As they were leaving the temple together the young man asked him a question. “Do you know how to defend yourself?” While the Bishop thought it was a funny question, when his laughter died down, he did start to worry. Later that night when he returned to his bed, just before sun up he was rather pleased with himself. It had gone better than he expected.

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The booming knock at his door told Zender who it was on the other side. So hard was the knocking Zender thought the door was going to come off the hinges. “Just a moment, Windfall.” He called out as he set down his book. Zender took a moment to straighten his robes. He looked around his modest cell wishing he had time to get away or at least a window he could crawl out of. The visits Windfall made were never pleasant, he still did not understand why Zender had been living in the temple for the last two years. Zender did not understand why his father could not see that he was a man now. He didn’t know anyone that was eighteen years old and still living at home. As he opened the door to his cell he saw that his father was dressed in his night-blue armor and armed to the teeth. He also had a large bag slung over his shoulder. “You know the Bishop doesn’t like it when you come in here like that.”

“Son, Solarth won’t mind. Trust me on this. I don’t think that new Bishop of yours likes anything, I miss Frost.” Windfall swept into the room, setting the large bag on Zender’s bed. He could hear the sound of metal clashing around inside of it. Not that he was paying attention to it, he had not thought of his mentor in months. He tried not to think of him, it was the only way to keep his pain at bay. As Zender closed the door, he waited for the usual speech. “I have to leave.” This was new, he had never come to tell him this before. Zender was almost shocked. “I am taking your brother with me, it is time for him to learn. I want you to check in on your mother now and then. Something doesn’t feel right and I don’t like her being all alone out in that farm house.”

“What do you mean?” he asked his father. While he expected something like this, he knew something was wrong.

“Just promise me you will go visit her every couple of weeks? I might have to move her into the city.”

“Windfall, just tell me what it is!”

“I saw a man in full plate armor north of the city. It was black armor, something about him bothered me but I can’t put my finger on it. I have a lead on the one who did all those murders on Noroku so I really can’t follow up on it right now.”

“Father, this is the capital of Eystlund, you can’t throw a stick without hitting some fool in plate armor like we are about to go to war. Odds are he is here for the games next month. What is the in the bag father?”

“It is time for you to live up to your end of the deal. You made me a promise, you know what I am talking about. I let Solarth have you, now it is your turn.”

“Fine, tell me why first. I know about what grandfather did to you, I know why you have to hunt. Why put that on me though, I need to understand?”

“Zender, it isn’t about hunting. It is about doing something more with your life than sitting in this dark room, reading that book. I know you are meant for something more, I can feel it in my bones. So just try it, put on the armor. Take a walk about town, tell the sheriff you are my son and want to help. You are stronger than you look and I know I didn’t waste my time teaching you how to fight. Get out of the temple, do something worthwhile.”

“Father!” Zender could see the passion on his father’s face. He believed everything he was saying. “They need me here. There is still a lot of work to do on the temple. I should be here where I can do the most good.”

“Fine! Just make sure you check in on your mother. I hope one day you see what I am talking about Zender. The world is leaving you behind while you hide in these walls.” Zender tried to speak but the words failed him. He could only watch as his father opened the cell door and left the room. Part of him knew his father was right but he had to follow the direction of his leaders. Looking down at the bed he started to reach for the burlap bag just as the bells were ringing. It was time to start afternoon prayers. He had to make it there today, Bishop Drent liked to punish people who missed prayer sessions.

Zender did not like Bishop Drent, there was something about the man that set him on edge. While he had no proof, he thought the Bishop was dealing with some shady folks from outside of the city. He was always meeting people outside the temple grounds at all hours of the night. Zender didn’t like it at all. Yet the Bishop kept them busy enough that he did not have time to question anyone about it.

Two weeks after the visit by his father, Zender could not sleep. It was strangely warm that night and nothing he did helped. As he left his room he thought to spend the night in the stables. It was the one guilty pleasure the young cleric still treasured from his childhood. Only he never got that far. The sound of a woman crying drew his attention to the temple area. As he pulled the new doors open, that he had helped carve, he could see her in the first pew. Her entire body was shaking as she sobbed. He quickly moved down the aisle and kneeled down beside her. “My lady, what is wrong, how can I help you?” The woman looked over at him, her face streaked with tears.

“My children…” and the tears started anew. Zender pushed his body into the pew next to her, putting an arm around her seeking to give her comfort. While it took most of the night to get the words from her, he at last understood. Two days before the woman’s two children had gone missing. She went to the sheriff for help, he told her that they had children come up missing every day for a week, he couldn’t help her. She then came to the temple, seeking the guidance of Solarth in the form of Bishop Drent. He told her in no short order that her children were gone and she needed to move on. As the woman spoke and sobbed, Zender felt something break inside. He did not know if it was his heart or his mind but looking at the altar as she spoke, he knew what he had to do. He told the woman she was welcome to stay in the temple as long as she needed; giving her his minor blessing before he turned to go. He returned to his room and reached under his bed pulling out the large burlap bag his father had left behind.