The Children of Calm by J Michael Smith Page A

replied, “May it be so,” and one by one placed their starpods on the water’s surface. Instantly they lit, and slowly the lakefront became ablaze with warm yellow light. Families huddled close and shared hushed whispers.
    “May The One receive our prayers and bless the people,” Caenar said.
    Then slowly the crowd of people began to trickle away as they left for their homes – with the exception of the ones who had decided to sleep under the stars.
    Rylek had stood with Lana, Tresten, and Selenor throughout the events of the night, and as the others who stayed on the lakefront prepared their blankets and pillows, the four of them nestled down under the Old Sentinel, parallel to the lakefront. Rylek lay down next to Selenor, so that he was facing the old tree and she was facing the lake. There he watched her as she slept, her face lit by the starpods. At some point during the night she woke briefly and looked into Rylek’s eyes. She smiled silently and fell back asleep. The warm shivers erupted all over Rylek again, and he thought to himself that he could not have asked for a more perfect ending to the night.
    As he was finally falling asleep, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of déjà vu: the exhilaration of contented peace settling on him like a soft blanket, just as it had five years previously on The Balcony.
     
    ***
     
    After waking the next morning, they left the lakefront and the shelter of the Old Sentinel to go to Lana and Rylek’s house. The plan was for them to have breakfast there, then to have lunch at Penephoni’s. Supper was a community event again, like it had been the night before. So there was much eating, gift-receiving, and ceremonial activity to experience. Rylek could hardly stand himself because he was so excited about the food. As he devoured breakfast like a man who had not eaten for several days, his mother watched him in wonder.
    “It is absolutely amazing and confounding to me,” she said, “that you are not twice the size you are. I have never seen anyone put away so much food.”
    Rylek stopped long enough to smile at her. “Aren’t you proud of me, mom?” he asked with a full mouth.
    Clarina merely smiled and shook her head.
    After breakfast, she and Faltir handed out birthday gifts. Faltir handed each of the boys a sword. “You both have proven you are worthy of these,” he said. “Use them well.”
    Rylek looked questioningly at the blade. “But isn’t this your sword?” he asked.
    Faltir nodded. “It was my sword. Just as it was my father’s, and his father’s, and so on. Faldrahil it is named; a most worthy blade for a deserving swordsman.” He smiled and looked at Rylek proudly. He then turned to Tresten. “And this sword,” he said, “belonged to my great-uncle, and his father, and his father. He named it Silran.” He paused and put a hand on each boy’s shoulder. “I could not be more pleased with how the two of you have matured and developed. My hope is that these blades will serve you well in whatever tasks are set before you, just as they have served their previous masters.”
    Smiling profusely, Rylek examined Faldrahil closely. Its blade was of the finest wrought steel, and there were engravings on its base. In a fine script were these words:
     
    for the children of Calm
     
    He noticed the same words were engraved on Silran also.             
    His father caught his silent observation. “A small, ever-present reminder,” he explained to them, “of the only reasons you should ever use these swords: to help the helpless, to defend the defenseless, and to protect the innocent.”
    Below the etched words was a picture of a sunburst. Glancing quickly towards Tresten, Rylek noticed there was a picture of two crescent moons on Silran. One was sitting mirrored within a larger one. The scabbards likewise were marvels to behold. Rylek realized his was not the same one that his father had used. It was dyed black, and woven from a very tough but