Janner and Leeli watched quietly as Kalmar lowered himself into the Fane of Fire.
"Be careful!" Leeli called out, watching anxiously as Kalmar's head disappeared over the edge of the fane
Kalmar's voice came back muffled, "Don't worry; I'll be fine."
Leeli ooched up close to Janner and laid her head on his shoulder. Janner placed his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently.
Leeli looked into Janner's blue eyes and smiled. "I love you, brother."
Janner smiled back and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you too, sister
Janner smiled back and kissed her gently on the forehead. "I love you too, sister." Janner squeezed her again and Leeli snuggled up with a contented sigh.
. . .
Kalmar lowered himself into the fane carefully. What will He look like? He wondered, absently fiddling with the scabbard of the sword in his belt. Kalmar walked down a glowing passageway from the entrance, looking around with wondering eyes.
The bright flowers and glowing stones lent an an atmosphere of calm and he relaxed, running his hands up and down his chilly arms–for he was cold with nervousness. He entered the main chamber and drew in a deep breath. Here he was; no turning back now.
He was ready—or at least, he thought he was.
Kalmar looked around. There appeared to be no one in the room and he found himself peering anxiously into large cracks and crevices big enough to hid a man.
Suddenly, his cold body was flooded with warmth. He was here. Kalmar knew it; He was here somewhere: The Maker was nearby and very close.
Kalmar backed up against a wall and closed his trembling eyes.
After a few seconds he opened them again and looked around. Still no one in the room, but he knew he wasn’t alone. The Maker was still in here or very close by. He peeped around an edge into an adjacent room. It was empty too.
Then, from behind him, Kalmar heard a noise. He whirled around and stared in awe as shining figure entered from another adjoining room.
Realizing he should be bowing, he dropped to his knees as The Maker approached.
The Maker stood in front of Kalmar for some seconds and then spoke in a voice that radiated power and compassion.
“ARISE, KING KALMAR.”
Kalmar stayed on his knees. “I’m not worthy to stand in your presence, my Lord,” he whispered.
“WHO IS WORTHY TO STAND IN MY PRESENCE, MY SON?”
“No one, Your Majesty,” Kalmar again whispered.
The Maker chuckled. “COME AND WALK WITH ME.”
Kalmar looked up in wonder. He hadn’t expected laughter. This was an interesting turnout, for sure. And did He say walk with Him? Like Dwane and Gladys did? Had Father ever walked with The Maker? Kalmar’s thoughts tumbled through his head at an alarming rate and he pressed his hand to his forehead to stop the throbbing.
“COME, YOUNG ONE, WE MUST TALK AND THE HOUR GROWS LATE.”
The Maker’s reached His large hand down and helped Kalmar to his feet.
Kalmar hastily brushed his slightly dirty vest off and adjusted his cloak and his moon cloak pin.
The Maker walked swiftly down a passageway to the left of the main chamber. “FOLLOW ME.”
Kalmar followed Him as fast as he could on his shorter legs. The Maker slowed down so Kalmar could catch up. Kalmar caught up and slowed down, his heartbeat racing. It was a special thing to walk beside The Maker. While Kalmar knew every High King of Anniera had done so at one time; he had never dreamed of doing it himself.
The Maker glanced down at the boy-wolf beside Him. Kalmar looked up at the same time and flushed under The Maker’s strong gaze.
“I—I— “ he started to stutter. “I’m sorry; I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to resist.”
“COME. WE HAVE MUCH TO TALK ABOUT.”
“Yes, sir.”
The Maker led the way to a bench made out of the glowing stone all around the fane. Bright vines with morning glories festooned the bench and made it look like a bench of flowers.
The Maker sat down on the bench and left room for Kalmar. Kalmar hesitated and The Maker spoke again.
“SIT. DO NOT BE AFRAID. I HAVE YET TO SEE A HUMAN WHO HAS NOT FAILED.”
Kalmar sat on the bench, keeping as far away from The Maker as he could without falling off the bench.
The Maker chuckled again. “DO NOT BE AFRAID OF ME. I LOVE YOU, KALMAR, THOUGH YOU FAIL A MILLION TIMES; I WILL STILL LOVE YOU.”
Kalmar felt tears slipping down his furry cheeks and he bowed his head.
The Maker looked off into the distance and Kalmar realized they were in a garden and in the distance was a sparkling river.
“YOU NEEDED ME?” The Maker spoke again and Kalmar jumped.
“Uh, yeah. The fangs. Is there some way I can de-fang them, uh, un-fang them?”
“I THINK YOU KNOW THE ANSWER.”
Kalmar didn’t know what to say so he remained silent. He fiddled with his cloak pin and waited for The Maker to speak again.
(I'm so sorry the first version was wrong! I hope this is better!)
This is really great! Though, quick thing. Janner's eyes were green. But, great story!