Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi Page A
Authors: Licia Troisi
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she would tolerate no objections. But Nihal’s legs were trembling and her arm refused to move. She found herself closing her eyes and praying desperately that nature had truly accepted her.
All is one and one is all. The fire won’t burn me because it’s part of me and I am part of it
, she repeated to herself as she stretched out her arm. When she felt the flame grow near, she almost lost her nerve. Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating wildly.
All is one and one is all. All is one and one is all. It’s now or never!
Nihal drew in her breath, held back her tears, and stuck her hand in the fire.
No pain. Not even the heat she’d felt moments before.
When she dared open her eyes again, she was amazed. Tongues of flame had wrapped themselves around her hand like a glove.
Then Soana clapped her hands once; the fire dissolved and everything went back to normal.
Nihal looked at her hand in wonder. It was cool and pink.
“A miracle,” she whispered, as if speaking to herself.
“No, it was a magic fire. If you’d lied to me, there’d be charcoal where your hand is.”
Soana put an arm around Nihal’s shoulders. “You did a wonderful job, my student.”
Nihal felt like she’d scored a great victory.
The training period began.
For Nihal it was a tiring but fascinating time. She gradually learned to appreciate magic. Every new spell made her feel more a part of the life force pulsing through everything, of the force she’d felt in the clearing.
That wasn’t to say she wasn’t bored by meditation. She found the countless preparatory exercises that were required for learning any new spell tedious. But at the same time, she found something invigorating about the endeavor. A calm she’d never felt before descended upon her spirit.
It didn’t take long, however, for her to understand that magic was not her destiny. Nihal was a quick learner, but she lacked the mastery of magical forces typical of the great sorcerers, the mastery Sennar so clearly possessed.
Their relationship had improved since the night he came to help her in the Forest. Initially, Nihal had kept up with her haughty act and angry glances, but not for long. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she ended up considering him her best friend.
They spent all their time together, and Nihal even stopped hanging out with her old gang in Salazar. The boy with red hair was the friend she’d always wanted.
They were both Soana’s students, but what really united them was the fact that they both felt different from other people. He was a sorcerer, and under the Tyrant, sorcerers were seen in the worst light. She was a warrior, and it was common knowledge that the destiny of women was to close themselves inside their houses to have children and make their husbands happy. Nihal and Sennar felt like rebels. They did what they wanted and fantasized about the heroic deeds they would perform in the future. Nihal was now certain she would join the troops fighting against the Tyrant.
Soana and Sennar told her frequently about the Tyrant. They told her about how he was using force to usurp the thrones of the kingdoms of the Overworld and establish governments that ruled by terror. They said the lands he conquered were full of misery and decay, that the Tyrant hated all races and wanted to gather them under his dark dominion.
Lately, strangers had been coming to Livon’s workshop with greater and greater frequency. They helped themselves to weapons without paying, in the name of the Tyrant and King Darnel. Livon seemed to fear them and when they came, he made Nihal hide. She was forced to watch helplessly while they ransacked the workshop and mistreated her father. On those occasions, her whole body seethed with rage, and her hand raced to her sword.
It was a new sword.
True to her promise, she’d asked Livon to make a little sword. Phos accepted it with great enthusiasm.
She’d given the Tear to her father.
“Pop, can you make me a sword with
All is one and one is all. The fire won’t burn me because it’s part of me and I am part of it
, she repeated to herself as she stretched out her arm. When she felt the flame grow near, she almost lost her nerve. Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating wildly.
All is one and one is all. All is one and one is all. It’s now or never!
Nihal drew in her breath, held back her tears, and stuck her hand in the fire.
No pain. Not even the heat she’d felt moments before.
When she dared open her eyes again, she was amazed. Tongues of flame had wrapped themselves around her hand like a glove.
Then Soana clapped her hands once; the fire dissolved and everything went back to normal.
Nihal looked at her hand in wonder. It was cool and pink.
“A miracle,” she whispered, as if speaking to herself.
“No, it was a magic fire. If you’d lied to me, there’d be charcoal where your hand is.”
Soana put an arm around Nihal’s shoulders. “You did a wonderful job, my student.”
Nihal felt like she’d scored a great victory.
The training period began.
For Nihal it was a tiring but fascinating time. She gradually learned to appreciate magic. Every new spell made her feel more a part of the life force pulsing through everything, of the force she’d felt in the clearing.
That wasn’t to say she wasn’t bored by meditation. She found the countless preparatory exercises that were required for learning any new spell tedious. But at the same time, she found something invigorating about the endeavor. A calm she’d never felt before descended upon her spirit.
It didn’t take long, however, for her to understand that magic was not her destiny. Nihal was a quick learner, but she lacked the mastery of magical forces typical of the great sorcerers, the mastery Sennar so clearly possessed.
Their relationship had improved since the night he came to help her in the Forest. Initially, Nihal had kept up with her haughty act and angry glances, but not for long. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she ended up considering him her best friend.
They spent all their time together, and Nihal even stopped hanging out with her old gang in Salazar. The boy with red hair was the friend she’d always wanted.
They were both Soana’s students, but what really united them was the fact that they both felt different from other people. He was a sorcerer, and under the Tyrant, sorcerers were seen in the worst light. She was a warrior, and it was common knowledge that the destiny of women was to close themselves inside their houses to have children and make their husbands happy. Nihal and Sennar felt like rebels. They did what they wanted and fantasized about the heroic deeds they would perform in the future. Nihal was now certain she would join the troops fighting against the Tyrant.
Soana and Sennar told her frequently about the Tyrant. They told her about how he was using force to usurp the thrones of the kingdoms of the Overworld and establish governments that ruled by terror. They said the lands he conquered were full of misery and decay, that the Tyrant hated all races and wanted to gather them under his dark dominion.
Lately, strangers had been coming to Livon’s workshop with greater and greater frequency. They helped themselves to weapons without paying, in the name of the Tyrant and King Darnel. Livon seemed to fear them and when they came, he made Nihal hide. She was forced to watch helplessly while they ransacked the workshop and mistreated her father. On those occasions, her whole body seethed with rage, and her hand raced to her sword.
It was a new sword.
True to her promise, she’d asked Livon to make a little sword. Phos accepted it with great enthusiasm.
She’d given the Tear to her father.
“Pop, can you make me a sword with
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