The Great Gifts

By Susan Frances Edwards

The Great Gifts

Synopsis

A young man makes a 'Telling' of his life, describing the personal difficulties, the opposition and dangers, he has faced as he struggles to reach a day which will decide his and his world's future.

The Myldorangi of Myldora do not depend on high technology, they have skills enough for their simple yet ancient culture, and riches not measurable by scanners. They have three Great Gifts – The Remembering, The Calling and The Turning, and Masters trained in their use.
But as a Childling, Bruathimo, an unusual silver-haired Myldoran, discovers he has another Gift – or is it a curse?– for which at present there is no training; he can Sense others' emotions. Some-how he must be helped to master his Sensitivity before it destroys him.
At the Place of Learning, he experiences the fear, prejudice and discrimination which silver hair and Sensitivity provoke in many Myldorangi, and suffers a physical attack which causes an almost fatal collapse. Having barely survived this, he discovers he also has the Gift of The Turning, a mind-power by which he can move instantaneously around the world. In their Training at the Guild Halls, Bruathimo and his fellow Scholars are inspired by the Great Masters who came before them; beyond the excitement of achievement, they experience the fear, danger and grievous loss which come with their Gift; and eventually learn to Turn beyond their own dimension to parallel worlds in other planes.
His heartfriend, Poelimo, Gifted with Remembering, also has his trials and difficulties, and is also helped to develop new skills. They learn to survive by relying on their families' support, their trust in the present power of the Grace, and by their growing love for two fellow Scholars, Momure and Shanure. Refusing to be defeated by the costliness of their Gifts, Bruathimo and Poelimo, now seen as Children of the Grace and 'heartfriends born of heartfriends', along with their families, their loves, and the Senior Masters and Elders who are helping them, form a group to work for change among the Myldorangi.
Their group, which they call the Constellation, determines, despite all opposition, to rediscover the true purposes of the Great Gifts, and to renew their world's belief in the Grace. They believe it can carry one of them to the world their Gifts are intended to help. Will anyone risk trying it?
Finally Bruathimo's class of Scholars must pass their Great Test. If they succeed in the task set, then he and Poelimo can go forward into the destiny awaiting them – the Children of the Grace who are Gifts to Myldora and to unknown worlds in need of their aid.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Frances Edwards
• Release date: Nov 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311714510

Susan Frances Edwards

I was born in the city of York, and moved to Lorton in the Lake District when I was eight, spending my formative childhood years in one of the most beautiful places in the world. It's still my heart's home.As a child I was read to by my parents and grew up loving books, especially those with rich and well-used language, as well as delighting in the natural world. These are now two of the most important aspects of who I am, along with a love for music, good food and company, a lively curiosity and a sense of humour.I'm a member of The Whitehaven Writers, the Tolkien Society,the West Cumbria branch of the U3A, and am active in the Parish of Whitehaven. When the weather permits, I go out to the Solway coast or the Lake District with my camera in hand, and often get odd looks from walkers when I'm down on my knees taking a picture of moss or lichen or fungi. You can see some of my pictures and the writing they've inspired in my blog at - http://susanfrancesedwards.me.ukI've lived and worked in many places around England as well as teaching for six years in Tanzania. I've been a Library Assistant, a Primary teacher, a Cub Scout Leader, An Anglican Parish Worker, a novice Franciscan Sister, and finally a self-employed Home Tutor. But after all that I've retired and settled back in Cumbria, in the Georgian port town of Whitehaven, and am very happy to be almost within sight and sound of 'home'.

Book preview

The Great Gifts

A debut fantasy novel

'As a creator of new worlds I would rate Susan Frances Edwards very highly, her work shares some of the delicacy and visual beauty of Patricia McKillip, the fictionalised anthropology of Ursula K le Guin, and the convincing high seriousness of J R R Tolkien. I really believed in Myldora and its people, and her fluent and translucent style transported me there. The Great Gifts is both dramatic and moving, with a touch of steel and convincing characters.'

Geraldine Harris Pinch, author of 'Seven Citadels'

The Great Gifts

Book 1

of

The Tales of Myldora

Susan Frances Edwards

Published by Susan Frances Edwards at Smashwords

Copyright Susan Frances Edwards 2013

Discover other titles by Susan Frances Edwards at http://www.Smashwords.com

Samples of the sequel and other work in progress can be found in her Author Pages at

http://susanfrancesedwards.me.uk

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person please purchase another copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and you did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters and events in this book are purely fictitious,

and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

This book is dedicated to Pat with thanks for her many inspiring ideas,

her integrity and honesty, and above all her patience.

My thanks are also offered to Margaret and to The Whitehaven Writers

for all their support and encouragement.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 The Tale of The Wise Ones

Chapter 2 The Great Gifts

Chapter 3 Sensitivity

Chapter 4 First Turn

Chapter 5 Shields and True Names

Chapter 6 Younglings in Trouble

Chapter 7 Bringers of Gifts

Chapter 8 A Rarity

Chapter 9 The Beginnings of Prejudice

Chapter 10 An Anxious Time

Chapter 11 The Declaration

Chapter 12 Ielenture

Chapter 13 The Art of Focussing

Chapter 14 Collapse

Chapter 15 The Choosing Change

Chapter 16 The Guild Halls

Chapter 17 Kearimo's Story

Chapter 18 To Right A Wrong

Chapter 19 Justice Achieved

Chapter 20 New Beginnings

Chapter 21 Loss

Chapter 22 A Theory

Chapter 23 Two Ceremonies

Chapter 24 The Tale of Ferentolimo

Chapter 25 Questions and Answers

Chapter 26 Beyond

Chapter 27 World Travelling

Chapter 28 The Challenges

Chapter 29 The Constellation Shines

Chapter 30 A New World Is Found

Chapter 31 Preparing for The Great Test

Chapter 32 Rescue

Chapter 33 The Future Beckons

About The Author

Draakoa in Danger – Synopsis

Sample Chapter – A Foursome

Introduction

The archives of Draakoa hold many transcriptions of life stories provided by the Lore-Masters of Myldora, their sister-world in a parallel, binary star system. From one such story their chief historian in his later days, made this selection, which I can now share with you.

A young man of Myldora tells us about his early life, his friends and family, even his enemies, and the communities through which he passed as he grew up. Although Myldora is itself unremarkable, its people, the Myldorangi are not; and coming from among a remarkable people, this young man, Bruathimo, and his closest friend, Poelimo, proved to be more remarkable than anyone could have expected, and of great significance to Myldora, Draakoa and other worlds.

The historian had entitled Bruathimo's story The Great Gifts becausethose Gifts were hugely important in his and Poelimo's lives, and the struggle to understand them affected Bruathimo and the people around him; and that in turn shaped the events that formed his character and finally brought him to his destiny. A destiny which may followed in a second selection of memories entitled Danger on Draakoa.

Occasionally I have deliberately used names or words from our own world, where those of Myldora would be inexplicable to us. The tree, King of the Forest, is one example. The Myldorangi have no ultimate rulers of that kind, but neither is there anyone or thing on our world which is a suitable equivalent to their name for the tree. Susan Frances Edwards

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For those who enjoy exploring such things, there is a wealth of information about Myldora and its people in the Appendices in http://susanfrancesedwards.me.uk but a very brief note on their calendar and names are included here as you begin. A description of the main characters in the order of their first appearance may be found after the last chapter.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

i The Myldoran Calendar

The Long-Change consists of 360 orbits by Myldora of the Primary star or Near Sun.

The Year is called a Change. It has 320 days,10 months of 32 days, and 40 weeks.

The Seasons The year has five seasons, each two months long. The New Change begins in the middle of Chilling. The seasons are: Springing = Spring; Swelling = Summer; Fruiting = early Harvest; Burning = later Harvest / Autumn; Chilling = Winter

The Months (beginning from the second month of Chilling) are:

Freezing; Sprouting; Nesting; Blossoming; Shining; Ripening; Gathering; Storing; Firing; Darkening.

The Week is eight days long and is referred to as a Round-of-days or a Round.

The Days are: 1 Sun-Rising-Day, or Rising; 2 Star-Passing-Day, or Passing; 3 Blue-Companion-Day, or Blue; 4 Red-Companion-Day, or Red; 5 Water-of-Life-Day, or Water; 6 Breath-of-Life-Day, or Breath; 7 Glorious-Gifts-Day, or Gifts; 8 Remembrance-of-Names-Day

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

ii Pronunciation of Myldoran Names

C is always hard as in cat, not soft as in ceiling. G is always hard as in gun, not soft as in gin.

Myldora = Mill/door/ah; Myldorangi = Mill/door/ang/ee; Bruathimo = Broo/ah/thim/oh; Kirankilimo = Keer/an/kill/im/oh; Kearimo = Key/ah/rim/oh; Muruthimo = Moo/rooth/im/oh; Ielenture = Ee/ell/en/toor/ay; Liathimo = Lee/ah/thim/oh; Momure = Mow/moor/ay; Sheruthilimo = She(d)/roo/thil/im/oh; Ankure = Ank/oor/ay; Smeranenu = Smair/an/en/oo; Mirely = Mere/ely; adimo (ah-dee-mo) = father, shortened to adi (ah-dee) = dad/dy; amure (ah-moor-ray) = mother, shortened to ami (ah-me) = mum/my. Childling Names have -ling added to the name of the parent of their own gender.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

1

The Tale of The Wise Ones

I, Bruathimo, a Myldoran of Myldora and a Senior Scholar in The Guild of The Turning have a request to make of you, Poelimo, Junior Master in the Guild of the Mind Library of the Shathureon – sixth House of the second Nation of the Myldorangi:

'Are you willing to Receive my memories, to hold them sacred, to pass them whole to the Lore Master of the Shathureon, that they may never be lost, and that our people may be wiser and richer as the Changes pass for holding and knowing them?'

'I am willing.'

The two young men, heartfriends since childhood, sat in silence for several minutes, gripped by the importance of the moment, and their knowledge that reliving and Receiving Bruathimo's memories would be difficult, and often painful. Before he began, Bruathimo, understanding that they might never again be together just like this, studied Poelimo for the first time in his life, as if he were a stranger newly met.

Sitting opposite him in his room he saw a dark skinned young man of twenty-five. He was of average height for a Myldoran, being a little under six feet, slim, even delicate in build for he had never had any interest in physical games, and his free-time activities were not such as would build up muscles, although Bruathimo knew he had considerable wiry strength. His long hair, tending to a slight wave, hung gleaming down his back. It was black, the most common colour on Myldora these days, but since his family originally came from the far North, in certain lights it had a gleam of brown.

His face was broader than most Myldorangi's, and his nose had been the butt of many friendly jokes over the Changes, for to a true Shathureon with a long and aquiline nose it was considered snub. Bruathimo remembered how, as a Three, Poeli used to be upset about it, and how when he was a Five he'd demanded that the Master Healer should be asked to change it.

However he'd begged him to keep it. 'I like it, please don't change it!' and reluctantly he had accepted the nose he'd been born with.

His eyes were dark brown with signs of laughter around them, and an upward twist to the right eyebrow which gave him a comical look. This was reinforced by his ears which were a little larger than most, and to his distress had refused to be hidden by his hair no matter how his mother had arranged it.

His hands, lying open on his knees as he sat ready to Receive Bruathimo's memories, were small and slender but well formed, like his bare feet which were firmly planted on the floor.

But it was his hidden gift, quite unrecognised by Poelimo himself, for which he was loved by so many. Despite a sensible and down-to-earth attitude to life, he also had a delicacy of understanding and insight precious to all with whom he had dealings. He took it for granted that everyone understood their friends as he did, but they could have told him they didn't, and that they were blessed by his individual approach to their troubles and problems.

Little did he know how much their hearts were lifted and eased when in his quiet way he said, 'Tell me,' and his friends could unburden themselves to his compassion, and receive a timely word of wisdom and comfort.

Bruathimo wondered what Poelimo saw as he looked at him – the friend he'd known since as Tinies they'd lain on a blanket together, only two Rounds different in age.

He was somewhat taller than Poelimo and his skin and eyes were unusually dark, a blue-black rather than deep brown. He looked physically stronger, his nose was aquiline, and to Poelimo's envy his ears lay neatly beneath his long, straight, silver hair – a colour now extremely rare among their people, and not known before in any of his family. And yet, despite being considered handsome, he had no pride in his looks; for most of his life they had set him apart from other Myldorangi, and had provoked so much discrimination and prejudice it was almost as if he were a feared off-worlder; a fact which, as a Youngling, had undermined his confidence in who and what he was, and contributed to his belief that he was a burden to those whom he loved most.

They both let out a long breath and laughed nervously. Then with a smile Poelimo nodded, indicating that Bruathimo should begin his Telling, but just as he opened his mouth the door opened and his Childling brother Tearimoling came in.

'Hello, Temoly,' Bruathimo said. 'Are you looking for something?'

'I was looking for you, Bru. Can you come and play with me?'

'I'm sorry, Temoly, I'm busy just now with Poeli.'

'Well then, can I watch?'

'Not today, this is very important private busy-ness – it's for the Masters.'

'The Masters let us watch them.'

'Yes, I know they do, but not all the time. They've got private busy-nesses too.'

'Well, what are you doing? I want to watch!'

'If I tell you, and promise to play with you later, or tomorrow, will you go and find one of your friends to play with?'

'I suppose so,' he answered reluctantly.

'Now I'm ready to take my Great Test, I have to give the most important of my memories to the Mind Library. You know Poeli's my heartfriend who's played all the Games with me, and learned, worked, and quarrelled with me;' he grinned at Poelimo, 'he's a Junior Master of the Mind Library now, and that means I can Tell him my memories. But to do that we need to be alone with no one else listening.'

'But if you're going to tell him stories I want to hear them – I'll be ever so quiet!'

'Well, there will be stories – stories the Masters will be telling you soon, so you'll know about Myldora and who you really are. Everyone repeats them with their memories, then if something really bad happens they won't be lost. But if you hear them now they'll be spoiled for you, and Temoly, as well as stories there'll be other very private things, and some of them aren't at all happy or nice.

'Now, you promised you'd go and play with someone else; and I've promised to play with you tomorrow, because just now I can't.'

Temoly looked up at his brother, eyes narrowed, thinking it over. 'Right then, I'll go and find Kimoly,' he declared, and marched out of the room again.

Poelimo laughed quietly, 'Sharulimo was just like that at Four.'

'I remember, but Temoly's even more determined than him.'

Bruathimo got up and closed the door, making sure that this time it was locked. 'I hope he's not listening outside. Now, are we ready?' he said, settling himself, and preparing to leave the present and allow his mind to relive the key moments of his life. At the same time he summoned up his inner controls, hoping they would enable him to recount his story calmly and objectively. With them in place, he nodded to Poelimo and as the memories took over, he began:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

'I am Bruathimo, the eldest child and son of Tearimo the Tall and Mingure the Fair of the House of the Shathureon. I was born in a comfortable, timber built home at the edge of the Southern Forest, part of a hamlet of nineteen homes whose families lived simply from the land. I got on well with most but not with all who lived there, for one or two considered me odd-looking, and their Childlings teased me, calling me 'Silver-head,' and refusing to let me play with them. This was distressing, but I had friends among the others, and from the beginning, Reshi (whose True name is Poelimo), the son of my Ami's heartfriend, Ankure, was very close to me, and I was happy to be alone with him. As Tinies we tumbled in the grass together, then later climbed and fell out of trees, made dens and got into mischief just as often as any of the others.

Chief among my early memories is sitting near the fire in the evening while Ami told stories about our family, and trying to tell them back to her. When I'd learned them I was introduced to the many ways by which Myldorangi memories are trained and strengthened. I especially loved walking around the crop fields and into the edge of the woods with her, Ankure and Reshi, and then, when he came home from his work, telling Adi all the different things I had seen and heard. We always competed to see who could remember the most – and Reshi always won.

When we became Fours, Childlings from several other hamlets were brought together to play Learning Games with us in the Gathering Hall, and, never having seen silver hair before, many of them, encouraged by Soaly, the ploughman's son, treated me as a strange monster, and the name-calling turned into something worse.

A number of Masters and Mistresses played their Games with us, but our firm favourite was Liathimo, our Master of the Mind Libraries, who told us stories of Myldora; and the one that was clamoured for most often was The Tale of the Wise Ones.

However I dreaded the moment when, sitting beside him on the fur rugs laid before the fire the others begged, 'Please, Master Liathimo, tell us how the Wise Ones fooled the strangers and made them go away!'

'Again? I think you must know it by now. Perhaps you should tell it to me.'

'Just once more, please!' they chorused, moving closer to him, while I made myself as inconspicuous as possible at the back. And he was always persuaded, cleverly letting them tell more of it each time, as he pretended to forget the details.

Although the story was put into a very simple form suitable for Fours, and left out all the struggles and difficulties we learned about when we were Younglings and Scholars, any significant changes we might make to it were gently but firmly corrected. We learned very early on that none of Liathimo's stories must be altered.

As Lore Masters should, he always began in the traditional way:

'We are the Myldorangi of Myldora, and we have three Great Gifts: The Remembering, The Turning and The Calling, and we live long full-lives. Three hundred Changes of the Suns make one full-life, and the greatest of the Lore Masters may live through four hundred and fifty Changes.'

Every time we heard it we gasped in wonder at that unimaginable number, and he would pause to let us try to absorb it before he went on.

'Hear now The Tale of the Wise Elders who saved our world of Myldora.

'Seven Long-Changes ago the first off-worlders appeared in the skies above us. They had come vast distances on a voyage of exploration. A Star Watcher at the Great Lake saw a new moving light and hurried to find Great Master Elydinetro, Elder and Lore Master.

' Great Master! I have seen something moving across the sky which isn't a comet or a heaven rock. It doesn't burn as they do, but gleams with light reflected from the Far Sun. Has such a thing been seen before, for I know nothing of it?

'After taking a little time to make a mental search, he replied, 'No, there is no such thing in the Mind Library of this Nation. We should Call a Gathering of Elders, for this may be the moment for a Turning, and if it is we must prepare.'

When Master Liathimo asked us to describe what happened next it was always Reshi who told it best, for his Gift of The Remembering had begun to show itself even when he was a Four. He knew all the poems and songs he'd ever heard, when we could only recall bits and pieces of them.

'A Calling was sent out, and the Lore Masters and Great Masters of Turning, along with all the other Elders came to the Gathering Place at the Great Lake, to decide what should be done. By this time the object in the sky had passed over several times, and was coming ever closer. It was now clearly a made object, and they expected it would contain people of some kind.

'All the Myldorangi were warned to be ready for a Turning unlike any since Straneth, the Fire Mountain, had driven them from their homes, three thousands of Changes before.'

'Well told, Reshi! Yes indeed, everything was prepared for a total Turning, should it become necessary.

'We Myldorangi are not naturally fearful, for we choose not to spill blood, we have our Great Gifts, and by The Turning we can usually avoid disasters; and thus events which might cause great fear in others are rare among us. But this object caused apprehension even among our Elders, so they waited in the town by the Great Lake, Masters and Mistresses from every House and Nation, in numbers not seen since the last Choosing forty Changes before.'

Liathimo would pause and a Childling would whisper, 'And the fire ship came!'

'Yes,' he said, before asking, 'Who can tell me what it was like, for I forget?'

Everyone could, and often we told it together.

'It was taller than three mountain pines. Roaring fire came from its base as it descended out of the sky onto the Plain. It burned all the ground where it came to land and it was wreathed in smoke and flame like Straneth himself.'

Despite my fear, I loved to hear the last detail, when he said slowly, 'Then there was a dreadful silence over the whole world.

'Once the ground had cooled somewhat, the three most senior of our Elders came forward,' Master Liathimo said, and their names were called out by the Childlings –

'Elydinetro, Great Lore Master of the Driniatruri; Trerethilimo, Great Master of Turning of the Theamurori; and Ashenengora, Great Lore Mistress of the Pronarenori' – he nodded and continued;

'They approached the craft, but they halted and moved back when a door opened high in its side and a long ramp slid out, crossing the burn and settling on the untouched grass many paces from its base.' Although we knew the story so well, the suspense at this point always made us hold our breath and gaze anxiously at Liathimo, needing it to come out right this time – as it always had before, and he would smile reassuringly as he went on, 'Four men appeared in the open doorway, and held out empty hands, before descending slowly to the ground, where they smiled and bowed in greeting.

'It was only then that the Elders could see how different they were from us. The strangers were short and solid, coming no higher than our shoulders, and later they told Elydinetro they had been surprised by our height and slenderness. Their skin, with its pallid, pinkish hue, looked strange and unhealthy to us, while they said our dark brown tones made it difficult for them to understand our expressions.

'The Elders wore their long ceremonial, natural-wool robes, over handwoven gowns dyed in tones of Forest-green and brown, with leather belts cunningly stamped with the emblems of the Nations. It was clear that their bare feet were considered peculiar by the strangers, although Ashenengora's lustrous hair, hanging free at one side and intricately plaited and piled on the other, inspired admiring looks. The Masters' hair was tied to hang neatly down the back, as is usual on important occasions.

'The strangers' hair, which was very light, was cut short, close to the scalp. It made Trerethilimo feel quite ill to see the paleness of it, although of course in courtesy he showed no sign of his discomfort.'

At this point, Soaly and his friends would stare at me, and with a cold ache in my stomach, I knew they would come after me later. But Liathimo, absorbed in the story, continued, 'They were clothed in a shiny, all-over covering, similar to what we wear when quarrying or working in the Forest, and their poor feet were imprisoned in hard metal boots.

'Great Mistress Ashenengora greeted them with palms together, and as soon as their peaceful intent was understood indicated that they should sit on the benches which had been brought from the town and placed in a pavilion. Then there was an awkward pause. It was clear that some form of communication other than speech was going to be needed.

'To their surprise the visitors produced instruments with screens, and the pictures within were shown to the Elders and named by the strangers, who indicated that the Elders should name them in the Myldoran tongue. And so over a number of days, using machines which could record and then translate both tongues, a simple form of communication was by slow stages established.

'Now then,' Liathimo would ask, 'who can remember the cleverness of the Elders?'

Of course everyone could, so there was a roaring response of, 'I can! I can! Let me tell it! Pleeease!!'

He made sure each Childling had a turn, and each time told a slightly different part so that we had a good grasp of the whole. What was the cleverness? That first evening, when the off-world strangers re-entered their craft, all the Gathered met together and spent the night in deep discussion. The two Lore Masters shared what they had seen and heard, and Trerethilimo told them his impressions of the strangers, and a strategy was decided upon.

The Elders would present themselves as simple, uneducated, but curious village leaders, and learn whatever was presented to them without showing any of their abilities to the off-worlders.

They had already noticed that among the off-worlders' pictures there were large numbers of ores, rocks, gemstones, oil, salt, and other natural resources.

Trerethilimo said, 'Their interest in these was strong, and it was fortunate (because we'd had no chance to confer,) that we reacted blankly, and called them by generic words for 'stone', 'rock', 'sticky black' and so on.'

The Gathering agreed that the existence of such resources would not be mentioned or indicated in any way to the visitors. They would try to give an impression that this was an uninteresting world not worth expensive exploration, and valuable artefacts which might provoke unwelcome interest would be hidden. In particular, Remembering, Turning and Calling would absolutely never be used or spoken of in their presence.

When all the Fours had talked about this scheme, every Childling adding their understanding of the story into the whole, Master Liathimo would return to the tale.

'Although it wasn't easy, the plan worked well. And from the second day our Elders did much listening and very little talking, while Elydinetro and Ashenengora Remembered everything the visitors said, and Trerethilimo judged their attitudes.

'In the following days the off-worlders cautiously visited the town by the Lake (they said they didn't want to spoil our world with 'bad things to make you ill,') where they saw only the townsfolk, for the Great ones who had Gathered were Turned away on those days. Then they brought a flying machine out of their ship and flew here and there over the land, taking strange pictures of what was under the ground. But Trerethilimo reported that although they acted cheerfully when they returned, they were in fact disappointed.

' I don't know what they were hoping to find, he said, but they didn't find it.

'The next day the Elders were invited into their craft where they showed them many highly technical tools, instruments and larger machines.

'Promises were made that if the Myldorangi wanted to live like them and fly the skies, they would be given these wonders and be taught their many uses. But the Lore Masters showed little interest in them, pretending not to understand, and, speaking the off-world tongue like Childlings they asked for stories of the strangers' home, and the places they had visited. They skilfully beguiled them into telling them a great deal about their culture and history, and were eventually invited to see 'vids' of other worlds, among them their home world.

'Each night the Lore Masters passed on what they had learned to those who were Gathered, and each night their resolve to remain simple and secret grew stronger as they began to understand how whole worlds had become great cities, while others had been stripped of their forests and other resources, bankrupted by expensive and trivial entertainments, blasted by weapons of war, or because of their unusual cultures had become curiosities, their people like caged animals for others to come and stare at.

'Finally, the visitors, explaining how they defended themselves, showed them a vid of a world reduced to a cinder by their most powerful weapons, and all three Elders were made so ill they had to leave and rest for the remainder of that day. They refused to look at anything more.'

'The strangers stayed a Month, until they had flown over all the lands, and although it was clear they weren't finding it, they refused to say what it was they were looking for, and the Elders went on being simple and secret.

'Now I wonder what happened in the end?' asked Liathimo, and triumphantly he was told:

'They thought we were stupid.'

'They thought we were poor.'

'They thought there was nothing on Myldora for them to take.'

And all together everyone would shout, 'They gave up and went away!'

'Yes, they had come further from their home than ever before, and though their instruments told them Myldora was a wonderful world, what they wanted wasn't to be found here, or perhaps not enough of it in one place to make it worth the trouble to get it. They certainly weren't interested in our building stone or the wood from our forests. So, still knowing nothing of our Gifts, they went away to explore other worlds.

'But we knew we'd been saved only by the lack of what they sought; and if they had found us we were now in danger from others who might follow them, and we must do something about it. However that's a tale for another day.'

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Inevitably, after each telling of that story I was made to suffer for being different. As I tell it now, it may sound trivial, but it wasn't to me at the time. When the adults weren't around I was constantly pushed and nudged to make me trip and fall. But far more than any physical hurts I dreaded their stares and the hateful way in which they would corner me and say,

'You don't belong here, Silver-head.'

'It's revolting, your hair. It makes me ill.'

'What're you doing on Myldora, whitey? Just look at you, you're not a Myldoran.'

'What world did you come from, and why don't you go back there?'

After which they would pull my hair out of its knot, and sometimes hold me down and rub mud into it, 'to hide its disgusting colour.'

Many's the time I washed it in the millstream, and tried to get it dry again before Ami saw it and punished me.

To avoid involvement in this trouble, my friends would disappear at the end of the story, deserting me for a while. When I could I attempted to escape further harrassment by pretending to have a headache or a sore throat, and spending a day or two at home, only reappearing when other Games had distracted them from their desire to torment me.

Of course Reshi always stuck by me regardless of the consequences to himself, but we didn't tell our Amis or Adis – we didn't know how. We talked about whether I could get my hair changed by the Master Healer, but he always begged me not to. 'It's not like my nose, it's specially beautiful and I think it's important.'

I didn't agree with him, but thought it probably couldn't be changed, and so I lay awake through many long nights wondering why I was different from everyone else, hating my hair far more than Reshi had ever hated his nose, and dreading what Soaly might decide to do about it next.

2

The Great Gifts

Although the harrassment continued on and off throughout our fourth Change, I was relieved to learn there were Myldorangi who, like me, weren't ordinary. Their stories gave me hope and encouragement.

Some Myldorangi were born possessing one of the three Great Gifts, and as a result were anything but ordinary, and we Childlings, though understanding little about them, found we very much wanted to be Gifted.

The Gift of Remembering was easy to understand even when I was a Tiny, for it was thanks to that that we had our stories, rhymes and songs; and I could accept that Callers talked to each other in their minds when they needed to send messages around our world, because after all I talked to myself in my head, so it must be like doing that; but Turning was a much harder thing to grasp.

My understanding of it had begun when, one morning in my third Change, I realised that Adi hadn't come home the previous night.

'Where's Adi?' I asked Ami in some anxiety. I wasn't used to my parents being absent for more than a day.

'Master Kearimo has taken him over to the Great Lake, he'll be back on Breath-of-Life Day. You don't need to worry, everything's alright.'

And of course it was. Early in the evening of Breath Day Adi came striding through the door, picked me up in a great big hug, and after supper told me about the Gathering Place where he had been to talk about the Northern Forest.

Over the following Months I gradually realised that when anyone in our little hamlet went away it was always Master Kearimo who took them. Having pondered it in my Childling way, and talked about it with Reshi, I asked Adi when he came home from a trip to the Northern Forest, 'But how did you get there?'

'Master Kearimo took me', he explained, 'by Turning.'

'What's Turning? Is it like going to the hills on the cart?'

'No, that would be too slow for going North, or even to the Great Lake. It's something Master Kearimo does with his mind which moves us to wherever we want to be.'

This made no sense, and as I'd never seen it happen I couldn't even begin to imagine it, so I gave up trying. But then I thought, 'Adi should be able to do anything anyone else can do,' so I asked, indignantly, 'Why does Master Kearimo have to take you? Why can't you do it Adi?'

'Not many people can Turn,' he replied calmly. 'Only a few have the Gift, fewer than those who Remember or Call. I don't have it, nor does Ami.'

Seeing I was bothered by his inability to do this strange and wonderful thing, he continued, 'I don't mind. It's true it's one of the Great Gifts, like Remembering and Calling, but I don't really want it. If I was a Master of Turning I would have to be away a lot. And if I'd been busy Turning when you came along, I wouldn't have been able to help Ami look after you, and I'd be missing you both.

'Don't worry about it son, I'm a Forestry Senior Master as well as being one of the Councillors of my Guild, and that's enough. Other people come to me to ask what they should do, and I help them sort out their ideas. It's quite enough for me.'

I could see he was indeed perfectly happy, so I let it go, and didn't bother myself any further about Turning until, in our Fourth Change, we began to hear more about it in Liathimo's stories.

We learned that some Myldorangi can Turn their minds towards another place in a way which transports them there in an instant, using the power of the Gift. As Adi had told me, it's not common, and Liathimo made it clear that Turning was much harder than the other Great Gifts, and not entirely safe.

It's a delicate balancing act telling Fours just enough and not too much; interesting them and making them willing to consider Turning without frightening them away from the whole experience.

Of course, in one sense, whether one is a Master of Turning or not is irrelevant. Every Myldoran needs to move around Myldora from time to time. From the first big move to the Place of Learning as a Seven, right on to the last few moves at the end of a full-life, we must use our Masters of Turning, and that means we must trust them and their Gift.

We really enjoyed our first few stories of the Saviours of the Nations, and other Great Masters of Turning who had snatched their people away from disaster. They were stories of skills far beyond our wildest dreams, stories which set us thinking and dreaming. Reshi sang the Story-songs at home for Rounds. Turning was far more exciting than the other Gifts – who cared what you could Remember, and if there wasn't a Caller a message could be carried on horseback, couldn't it?

With our curiosity aroused we began to take more notice of Master Kearimo. Until now he'd been one of the adults in the hamlet whom we rarely saw, and since he hadn't been involved in any of our Games or stories we'd never given him any thought.

He certainly held himself apart from everyone except his heartfriend Master Liathimo. He never came to evening parties or Gatherings, and although his work kept him busy, I knew he didn't often make Turns at night, so there must be another reason for his isolation.

So now when we saw him, Reshi and I studied him more carefully. By our reckoning if he could move people about with his mind we ought to be able to see some indication of this great power which could rescue us from disaster. However we were disappointed, for our Master of Turning showed no outward signs of greatness, and none of the adults in the hamlet treated him with the honour a potential Hero and Saviour must deserve.

He was taller than Reshi's adi though not as tall as mine, but that was hardly surprising, for after all he was known as Tearimo the Tall. We had never seen his hair let down; it was always held in a neat knot by a black band and ribbon; but as far as we could tell it showed a tinge of brown rather like Reshi's. Nothing about his face demanded a second look, although I noticed it often looked sad. He had dark brown eyes, a straight nose and a firm mouth and chin. The only notable thing about his appearance was that all his hooded robes and gowns were plain and severe, made in either a very dark green or black, unlike the brighter colours favoured by the rest of the villagers.

However, when we asked the Fives and Sixes, who knew him well, to tell us about him, they told us he was kind when he was with them. 'He's very quiet, he doesn't laugh or make jokes, but you'll like him,' they assured us. 'We mustn't tell you about Turning, but you don't need to be afraid, he'll keep you safe.'

'Oh, we're not afraid!' we replied. 'That wasn't why we were asking,' and went off no wiser than before about either The Turning or Master Kearimo.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One day towards the end of that Fourth Change Master Liathimo arranged a Family Day in the Gathering Hall for the children of our hamlet. Together with other Masters and Mistresses we had enormous fun showing off the Games we'd learned, telling our stories, and making things together.

Late in the afternoon everyone gathered round to hear a special story. As usual, some of us wanted to sit next to Master Liathimo, but he very skilfully made sure each child was with their parents, and Master Kearimo, who had just joined us, was given the favoured place.

Once were settled and quiet Liathimo looked round at us and began:

'We are the Myldorangi of Myldora, and we have three Great Gifts: The Remembering, The Turning and The Calling, and we live long full-lives.

'Hear now The Tale of Fulure, who long ago wanted to become the Great Mistress of the Guild of The Turning.

'She lived with her Ami and Adi at the Scarlet Valley Place of Learning, and when she became a Seven she found that with her mind she could Turn her toys with her as she crossed her room. At first it was quite difficult, but without telling anyone she practised carrying them around her room until it was easy.

'She knew what she was doing – she had learned the stories of the Myldorangi just as you are doing, and just as your amures and adimos did when they were Fours.'

He paused and smiled round at everyone.

'She'd already been Turned by her village Master many times since she was a Four – over to the Dawn Hills two days' walking away, on trips with other Childlings from her home to the Northern Forest Town, and once to the Place of Gathering. But now she was a Youngling and had begun her Learning at the Place and her ambition began to soar.

'One day, proud of her skill, she decided to try Turning herself, and set off towards the pool in the Scarlet Woods. It's a beautiful spot in a hanging valley above the Place where a deep pool surrounded by grass, flowers and moss lies among the Scarlet trees. The sun shines down through the water, and she and her friends had often gone there to watch the fish, the greenwings, and the slender, antlered deer. As she reached the path which climbed the hill her friend Breolimo happened to come along and she couldn't resist telling him what she was going to do.

' It's easy she said, pretending she'd done it before. You only have to look at where you want to be and think it, and there you are! Do you want to come and see me do it? She decided she wanted an audience who would tell the Master just how skilled she was.

'Secretly Breolimo was horrified at the whole idea, but Fulure was strong-willed, as all those who Turn are, and could persuade others to her way of thinking.'

I remember well how he and Kearimo looked at each other then, and the sadness in their look. I felt it inside me. They were heartfriends, and I wondered how and where they'd met, little knowing that in the future I would play a large part in their lives.

But I must return to the story.

'As they climbed the hill Fulure told Breolimo her version of all she'd already done – adding to the tale and building up her confidence with her exaggerations. By the time they reached the pool she felt almost invincible, and even tried to persuade him to let her carry him over the water. But that was going too far and too fast for him, and he declared he would have nothing to do with it. Failing to dissuade her from her attempt he said, I'm going home, and ran off through the trees, hoping the disappearance of her audience might stop her. He knew there wasn't time to fetch someone older, so although he was terrified, he got the better of his fear and crept back to a point behind a tree where he could see her without being seen.

'Fulure stood at the edge of the pool, gazing at the trees on the other side with fierce concentration.'

A shiver ran round the group, and every Childling took a firm hold of their parents. Reshi looked at me as he held on to his ami and adi, and I knew he was just as frightened as I was. I had a vice-like grip on Ami's arm – there were purple bruises there the next day where my fingers had dug in – but Adi's arm was round my shoulders, Ami's other hand covered mine, and I felt their love comforting me.

Liathimo's voice grew quieter, but we heard every word as he spoke into the tense silence.

'One moment she was standing there, and the next she was gone. But though he scrambled out from behind his tree and ran to the pool's edge, Breolimo couldn't see her on the other shore.

' Fulure! Fulure! he called again and again as he raced desperately round the pool, almost tumbling in in his haste. But there was no answer, and in utter dread he slowed as he approached the trees at which she had been staring so determinedly. Why couldn't he see her? Where was she? Had she been Lost in the black nothingness of her Turn?

'No, she was there. He saw her back outlined against the bark of a mighty Scarlet tree, but most of her body, including her face was embedded in the wood. He grabbed at her clothes. He tore his fingers pushing them between her body and the wood, and he pulled and he heaved, while the tears rolled down his face and he gasped in his terror. Fulure, no! Fulure, come out of there! Please!

'His desperation lent him strength, and at last he hauled her free and laid her gently on the grass. Although it was clear from the blood on her face and body that she was badly injured, she was still breathing – he took a trembling breath himself – but she was unconscious. He covered her with his tunic, and tore down the hill to find the Master of Turning. In his haste he fell several times, arriving well bloodied, but within the hour she had been brought down to the House of Healing, and the Master Healer and her parents were at her side.'

Liathimo looked around and smiled comfortingly at us – Childlings, parents and Masters. It was a look which told us he shared our feelings.

'She survived,' he concluded, 'though the credit for that must go to Breolimo. Had he not been there she would most likely have died alone and her soul gone into the Void of the Nameless Ones, for who would have known where to go looking for her to release her from the tree's grip?

'The least of her injuries was the loss of her Gift. The shock and terror had injured her mind far beyond that, and even as an adult she remained confused and fearful; but the tree had harmed her body even more severely. The bones of her face had been broken and she was badly scarred. Her hands, knees and feet were crippled, and she could no longer walk. She spent the rest of her life hiding herself away from everyone but her family, and if she had to travel she went by closed carriage.

'And that, my friends, is The Tale of Fulure.'

No one spoke at first – we couldn't think what there was to say. I was filled with terror and relief in equal measure, and felt faint with emotion in a way I'd never done before. The Fours were hugged, and their parents murmured comforting words to them. Adi held me close and said, 'It's an important story which we all heard just like that, but my Ami and Adi were with me, and though I was frightened I knew I was safe. We're with you now, and you're safe with us, and safe with our Masters and Mistresses.'

Liathimo gave us time to talk and relax while food and drink were shared around. Then when he could see smiles returning, and our murmurs began to turn to chatter, he called us to attention again.

'I'm sure your amis and adis will answer as many of your questions about The Turning and about Fulure as they can, but if anyone wants to ask more, or talk about Fulure to Master Kearimo, he will be glad to help you.'

'Yes, indeed,' he said, 'you may come to find me at any time. But next Star-Passing-Day I will make a special visit to each family, because before I give the Fours their First Turn I want to get to know them in their families.'

In our small hamlet that should have been easy, but because he kept himself so much apart from us he only knew those he Turned often, and the Tinies and younger Childlings were strangers to him.

'We'll talk together in your homes,' he said, 'and you can ask