So much has happened to me so quickly, that I thought I would put in on paper, to see if perhaps it made more sense there. My name is Ariana do Helvar na Kriga. I was found as babe by my foster parents who, being childless themselves, took me in and raised me as their own. My early life was somewhat uneventful. My pater was a weapon smith, my mater a healer. In later years I came to marvel how two people whose work seemed so dissimilar could be so happy together. I had few friends as a child. Most of the children my age would taunt me, calling me bastard and unwanted, for why else would I have been abandoned? I would run crying home to Mater, who would comfort me. Someday, she told me, I would do great things. Sometimes I wonder how she knew. As a result, I spent most of my time outside of school learning from both of my parents.

My life first changed significantly when I was twelve years old. It was the feast of Darnallor, he who oversees all, and the first year I was allowed to participate in the ritual boar hunt. Of course, we children were only allowed along as weapon bearers, but it was still the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me at that point. My friend Jalana and I could talk of nothing else for weeks beforehand. Finally, the feast day arrived, and we all set off at dawn to search for the great beast. By noon, we were still empty handed, and everyone was in a foul temper. Several arguments broke out over where we should search next, and we decided to split up to cover more ground. We found the boar soon after that. Or rather, it found us. The noise of our fighting had, of course, attracted the boar's attention. It attacked while we were all preoccupied, charging right through the main group and flinging those unfortunate souls left and right to land in bloody, broken heaps. It was the largest of its kind that I had ever seen. I do not really remember what happened next very coherently. I remember my pater, his leg twisted all funny, screaming for me to run. The next thing I knew, I was 20 feet up in a tree. I do not remember how I got up there, but Pater later told me that I jumped most of it. But when I looked down, Jalana was still standing there, frozen with fear. And the boar was heading right for her. Somehow, I had managed to maintain a hold of my sling, and before I knew it, I was leaping down from my perch, frantically fitting a stone to the sling and whirling it around. The boar was almost upon us when I let the stone fly, and Rakila be praised, my aim was true. The stone caught the creature square in the forehead, and it stumbled to its knees, its momentum carrying it right to our feet. I quickly ran for a spear to send the creature to its final reward, for I was certain that it was only stunned. But Jalana finally found her voice and told me not to bother. The beast was dead, and I was the instrument of its destruction. I was much too excited to notice the funny looks those who could still stand gave me as they inspected my kill. Pater later told me that the stone had penetrated over half-way through the creature's head. That is when the rumors first began that I might be a child of the gods.

I understood none of this at the time, but shortly afterwards Pater began to spend more time with me, working on honing my physical skills. We soon learned that I could jump higher, throw further, lift more weight, and run faster and longer than he could, and he was a very strong man. I spent the next three years working on these skills, trying to outdo my last efforts, beat my previous times. Of course, by now my parents and I were convinced that I was indeed born of one of the gods, although we were unsure as to which one.

In the summer of my sixteenth year I attended the Olympics, and won all of the games which I chose to compete in. This brought me much wider exposure, and shortly afterwards, the Selector of Kriga summoned me to hear a message from our capital, Taltor. It seems that an exploratory expedition was being mounted, and they wanted me to join it. The expedition promised great danger and adventure, and the honor of being included was incredible. Of course, I accepted. My parents were sad to see me go, but they understood. As a parting gift, my pater gave me a fine new sword, and my mater a bag containing several medicinal herbs. Both would serve me well in the years to come.

I shall skip the years of the expedition. To tell those stories would take a book or more. We encountered many strange creatures, some wondrous, some monstrous. We fought several battles, and lost some people, but gained new companions as well. It was a glorious time. I learned that, in addition to my other abilities, I healed more quickly than others. And, if I gazed long enough into a person's eyes, I could sometimes hear their thoughts. I returned home only twice during those 15 years, to visit with my parents and Jalana. It turns out that during my absence I had evolved into a local legend. If the stories were to be believed, I had killed four boars with my bare hands! Never mind the stories that were circulating about the expedition's adventures. Matters were not helped by the fact that I did not appear to have aged much while I was gone. My parents were glad to see me and to hear of my adventures. They had changed very little, except to grow older. Jalana had married a local man and had three children, one of them my namesake, who sat and stared, wide-eyed, as Jalana and I caught up on each other's lives.

Eventually, the expedition ended, and I returned home for good. I used the wealth I had acquired over the years to build a fine home for myself and my parents, full of paintings and tapestries from all over the world. Here I spent much of my time studying the scrolls that we had brought back with us, and teaching others who wished to broaden their minds, Jalana's children among them. But for all my searching, I was never able to find a clue as to my origins. I suppose I was content enough. I had many lovers over the years, but no children. Each year, Kriga held a feast in my honor where men and women fought for the honor of being in my personal guard. But in retrospect, I realize that I was simply waiting.

My pater died when I was 45. My mater lived a for another four years before she joined him in the afterlife. Shortly after her cremation, I decided to appeal directly to the gods for the truth of my origins. My research had revealed nothing, and I wearied of watching those I knew grow old around me. I wanted to find peers, kinship, to know that I was not alone. If I was a child of the gods, then there must be others like me. Perhaps the gods would help me find them. So I bid my friends good-bye and traveled to the sacred hills outside of Loran, with only a few elite members of my guards for company on the journey. Upon reaching the hills, I dismissed my guards and went on alone. After walking for several hours, I came upon a grove that felt different, almost magical, and I chose that as the spot to make my request. I made the proper sacrifices, spoke the appropriate phrases, and settled down to wait in deep meditation.

Eventually, contact came, although not quite the way I was expecting. It was a feeling in the back of my mind, like the feeling you get when you know you have forgotten something, but you cannot quite remember what. I focused on the feeling, and it became a presence, which I could see and hear, but was not really there. The man who appeared was tall and slender, with hair as white as the purest snow worn unclasped and tucked behind his ears. He was dressed in close fitting black leather that covered his entire body and a black and brown cloak clasped at the shoulder with an intricate dragon clasp. He carried a sword and had other strange objects on him that I had never seen before, but looked vaguely like weapons. His eyes were shielded from me by two pieces of dark glass attached to fine strips of metal that wound around his ears. I asked him who he was, for he resembled none of the gods I knew. He just laughed and told me that all of my questions would be answered if I came through to him. Then he held out his hand, and I knew that if I tried to, I could touch it. So I did, and he grasped my hand and pulled me to him, and suddenly I was no longer in the grove, and he was real in front of me.

We talked of many things that day (or was it night?). He called my home a "shadow," and told me of a place called Amber and the gods from that place who could actually walk between these shadows! He said that he was one of them, and that he thought I was as well. But, in order to come into my full power, there was a test that I must pass. It would be difficult, and if I was not worthy, it would kill me. He offered me the choice of taking this test, or of returning home. I chose the test, of course. As if, on the verge of finding the answers to all my questions, I would slink back home out of fear.

He brought me down a long flight of stairs, far underneath the castle in which he lived. The guards by the door let us pass without a word, and then I was face-to-face with my challenge. He called it the "Pattern," and said that to pass the test, all I had to do was walk upon it, following the design on the floor to its center. Of course, this was not a simple task. He warned me that the way would become increasingly difficult as I approached the center. There would be "veils" of resistance that would be harder and harder to penetrate, with only brief letup between them. He advised me to keep walking, no matter how tired I felt, no matter how sure I was that I could go no further, for if I stopped, I would find it almost impossible to start moving again. And I would have to move. For once I set foot on the Pattern, there was no going back, no leaving it half completed. I would either reach the center, or die.

The trial was everything he described, and more. Towards the end, it felt like I had spent my whole life trying to walk this path, move my foot, take a breath. All time and no time. When I finally broke through to the center, it took me several moments to realize that it was over. I had been found worthy, and words can not describe the feeling as the Pattern filled me with its power. I was told that from the center I could wish to go anywhere I wanted, and I would be instantly there. It was a wondrous feeling. I wished to be home, and I was, much to the amazement of my guards. Another story to add to the legend, I suppose. So, I guess I really am a child of the gods, just not the gods I knew. There is a whole new world out there for me to explore. Worlds, actually. Anything I can think of, I can travel there. The time for waiting is over.

"Outrageous Fortune"
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All text on this page is © 1993-1994 by Kris Fazzari.

Last modified on August 4, 1994 by Kris Fazzari.