This also surprised the other two, who realized that perhaps they had suspected, albeit not consciously. If anything, Devol would probably have been the only one, at least on the first mission, who truly believed they were alone, even if Asla and Jazai only vaguely thought of it in the back of their minds.
“That’s quite astute of you Devol,” she responded.
“Thanks, but I’m not trying to discourage you at all.” He raised one hand and balanced on the other. “I’m glad Wulfsun is coming with us, both because I want to see him in action and I take it as a sign that they are putting their trust in us. If I joined the guard, I would be under the supervision and the orders of others for years, even decades. We’re undertaking a mission that requires a Templar of Wulfsun’s ability to be at the head. That’s exciting, right?”
“From your point of view, certainly,” Jazai remarked with a casual grin. “But I get you. It strokes the ego if you think of it like that.”
“I’m curious, Devol.” Asla went into a handstand to mimic him. “What do you hope to gain by competing in the trials? As mistress Nauru said, you can earn a place in the Templar in time. If it is your path—and similar to mine—to aid them, aren’t the trials superfluous?”
“Not at all,” he said confidently. “It allows me to do more so much faster. And there are those missions I can do with only one of those markers. I see it as a challenge.” He placed both hands on the rail and flipped off to land on his feet. “People keep saying I’m gifted and all that but I’ve heard of gifted recruits in the guard and army. Some simply live a normal life and those who truly stand out show they are gifted by accomplishing things few others can. I suppose if I want to prove not only myself right but also everyone else who believes in me, I need to do something similar.”
His words left his friends speechless. Asla climbed off the railing as he put his hand out in a similar gesture to the first time the three had stood on this balcony. He gave them a reassuring smile as they held their hands out and placed them on top of his and returned his smile. The moment lasted mere seconds before they departed and headed to bed. Jazai and Asla might still have doubts, but they now felt similar to Devol. They merely had something else to accomplish first.
Chapter Twelve
“All right, lads and lassie! Rub that sleepy dust out of yer eyes. It’s time to get this mission underway,” Wulfsun shouted from across the bridge as Jazai, Devol, and Asla wandered out of the gate. Beside him stood Nauru, Vaust, Freki, and Rogo, surprisingly enough, who waved eagerly at them.
“Morning you three.” He greeted them warmly and Devol noticed his second, lower pair of arms cradled a bundle of something wrapped in cloth. “I got word you guys were heading out on a big mission led by none other than the illustrious Captain Wulfsun.”
Vaust shook his head as he tapped the large Templar’s chest plate. “There are a number of things I would call Wulfsun but I’m certain illustrious is not one of them.”
“Ah, come off it, Vaust. He’s only telling it like his heart feels,” Wulfsun boasted, clearly delighted by Rogo’s proclamations. “But moving on from me for a moment. Rogo the smithy here has fashioned a few little trinkets for ya.”
“Trinkets?” Asla asked and looked at the bundle with interest. “Something with runes?”
Rogo waved one of his larger hands. “Nah, that’s not my expertise at the moment but I am rather good with majestics. I’ve been working on these since your first mission and thought it would be good to give you guys some options in the field just in case.”
He unwrapped the bundle and approached the young wildkin. “First for you, dear Asla.” He withdrew a miniature crossbow with strips on the bottom that he undid to bind them to her gauntlet. “This should give you ranged options. I know you are fast but sometimes, merely shooting things is smarter, you know?” He produced a pouch, handed it to her, and pointed at his waist. “There is about a dozen bolts in there and you can load up to three in the crossbow at once. The enchantment on the weapon lets you control the trajectory of any arrow you fire from it after its shot but only temporarily. The arrows have a little cobalt dust on them, which empowers them to punch through other missiles and even weaker spells.”
Asla nodded as she examined the crossbow. “I like this,” she told him with a soft smile. “Thank you, smithy. I will make sure to care for it.”
“Not a problem.” Rogo smiled, turned to Jazai, and retrieved a rather intricate piece of jewelry. Five silver rings were chained together by their sides to form a single item and he handed it to Jazai and motioned for him to put it on. “I had help from the dwarves with this one. They are better at handling magic in crafting,” he explained and pointed at the ring on the boy’s middle finger. “You can bind cantrips onto each of the rings. Then, you only have to point and send a trickle of mana into that ring and the stored spells will activate.”
“Truly?” Jazai marveled at the trinket. “That’s quite handy. I’m glad Zier isn’t around. He would probably say that gets in the way of me learning to use the spells without incantations.”
“Ah, you’ll have time to train for that, but you’re heading out into the field now,” Rogo exclaimed and tapped the rings again. “The dwarves told me you need to form the spell around one of the rings but not cast it. This binds it to the ring for you with the power you grant it.”
“I see.” The diviner focused on his pointer finger and exhaled a slow breath as he mumbled something. The ring glowed momentarily with his blue mana before a rune in the shape of an explosion appeared. “It’s a missile cantrip,” he explained and pointed to a rock. The ring flashed and two fist-sized missiles launched, streaked into the rock, and destroyed it. Jazai nodded with a satisfied grin. “Much appreciated Rogo. I can certainly get some use out of this.”
“My pleasure,” the smithy said with a thumbs-up. “But remember that you have to reset the spell after each use.” He pointed to the ring and the diviner noticed that the sigil had gone. “Think of it like bullets in a gun. You gotta reload.” The boy nodded in understanding as Rogo walked closer to Devol and studied him for a moment. “You were an interesting one to craft for, I gotta say, buddy.”
“I was?” Devol tried to peek inside the cloth. “What did you end up making?”
“Well, I first considered something long-range like Asla’s crossbow, but that didn’t seem practical given the size of your sword and all.” Rogo slid his hand into the folds of the cloth. “I’ve been watching you train. You can do some spiffy things with that majestic but it doesn’t look like you’ve mastered it quite yet.”
The young swordsman sighed and nodded. “I can do a few things but that is about right.”
Rogo patted him on the shoulder. “Buck up, buddy. I’m sure you’re at the cusp. But it made me think. You should still have a trick or two up your sleeve you can rely on for now so…” He pulled his hand out of the cloth to reveal a dagger in a small sheath. The grip was black with a cobalt pommel and a few odd etchings in a ring around it. “I fashioned this little beauty.”
He handed it to Devol, who unsheathed the dagger. The blade was made from truesilver, said to be one of the materials that could withstand magic and wound some rare beasts. It gleamed even in the dim light and displayed a clear reflection of his face. “It’s beautiful, Rogo,” he said, amazed. When he clenched his hand around the grip, some of his mana pooled into the cobalt. “What the—”
The smithy chuckled, took the blade in his fingers, and lifted it. He tossed it several meters away where it dug into a rock. The boy looked at him incredulously before he began to walk forward to retrieve it, but Rogo stopped him when he caught hold of his jacket.
“Ah, hold on a moment,” he said and wagged his finger. “You didn’t think I gave you a regular dagger, did you? This is a two-for-one. It’ll help with close-quarters battles, but try to reach out for it and connect with the mana in the cobalt.”
Devol extended his hand and used vello to snatch the handle of
the blade before he was somehow dragged over to it. “Whoa!” he exclaimed from where he appeared next to the dagger and pulled it from the stone. “It lets me blink?”
“It’s faster than blinking,” Rogo proclaimed and smiled at Jazai. “At least for most people. That cobalt has your mana tucked into it, so you merely need to call to it and you’ll appear next to the dagger. Nothing can stop ya.” He tossed the empty cloth over his shoulder and clapped briskly “That was probably the trickiest to complete. Macha helped with it—oh, speaking of which, when you guys return, she wants to see you all and get you outfitted with proper armor.”
The three young magi looked at their garb. Beyond some light chainmail Devol wore under his jacket, none of them exactly had armor to speak of.
“I am grateful but I am not sure if that would work for me,” Asla responded cautiously and shifted her feet a little. “I prefer to be light so running isn’t hindered.”
“Yeah, me too. Being weighed down can lead to complications with some spells,” Jazai agreed and looked at Rogo. “Like blinking.”
“Not a problem,” the smithy assured them with a smug grin. “Macha knows something as basic as that. You merely have to work with her and she’ll fashion something that will keep you protected and that’s to your personal tastes.”
“That sounds great.” Devol nodded enthusiastically, flipped the dagger, and tossed it at a point close to the smithy’s feet before he warped to it and took one of his hands. “It’s much appreciated, Rogo.”
“Eh, don’t mention it. This is what I do, after all,” Rogo stated and shook his hand. Devol picked the dagger up and sheathed it before he attached it to his belt as he and the others joined Wulfsun.
“All right. Are we heading to Fairwind?” Devol asked.
“Fairwind?” Nauru asked. “Why would you start there?”
“Isn’t that the closest anchor to Monleans?” he responded and recalled his adventures on his journey to the order. “That’s where the map led me.”
The grand mistress smiled gently, turned to the large rock filled with various portal runes, and pointed to one near the middle. “The map you used was a little old. It is true we unfortunately lost an anchor point near Monleans a few decades ago, but we wouldn’t let it remain dormant forever.” The rune activated and a portal opened to reveal lands very familiar to him beyond the gate.
For once, he felt peeved although still slightly elated at the familiar sight. “Honestly, I wish I had known about that before I came here.”
“Think about the memories you made along the way, not the inconvenience.” Nauru laughed, stepped to the side, and ushered them through. “Be safe, all of you. They are in your hands, Wulfsun.”
“And they will be very safe with me,” the captain declared, picked a large knapsack up, and stepped toward the portal. “All right, you three. The real adventure begins now.”
Chapter Thirteen
Devol exited the gateway onto a field of wavy green grass and ran forward until he had to stop on the edge of a ridge. His home stretched before him, bounded by longstanding marble walls, spires, and towers that surrounded the central castle. The large structure gleamed as the sunlight caught the jewels and stained glass windows that displayed moments in the history of the kingdom of Renaissance. He was a little surprised that it was so visible even as far away as he was.
After being gone for so long, it was probably the first time he was ever truly amazed by Monleans, the capital of the kingdom.
A sharp whistle sounded behind him as Jazai approached and stared at the panorama with him. “Man, it’s been a while since I was last here.”
“So you’ve come through before?” the swordsman inquired and his teammate nodded.
“Yeah, a long time ago with my father.” The diviner smiled. “I could barely handle cantrips then. I was very young.”
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” he remarked and smiled again at the city in the distance. “You know, Jazai, I don’t think you’ve talked much about your childhood and where you came from.”
The boy shrugged. “Well, I moved around often so have many different stories. But I was raised in Quealva for the most part.” He pointed behind them to Asla and Wulfsun. “But that’s something for later, don’t you think? You’re the guide again this time since you know the area best.”
“Not a problem.” He turned and waved at the others. “Come on, guys. I know the fastest entrance into the city so it shouldn’t take any time at all.” He bounded off the hill and used a little vis to cushion his fall before he raced on across the plain.
“The lad is mighty excited.” Wulfsun laughed and stroked his beard as he absorbed the sight of the city. “It’s best to not lag too far behind. The process to enter the city can be time-consuming.” With that, he leapt off the ridge and pursued the swordsman as he yelled at him to slow down.
“Process?” Jazai checked his robes before he took out a small blue book and opened it to reveal his identification papers. He sighed with relief. “So Zier did slip it to me. I would have forgotten, which is dumb of me given that I should be used to this.” He looked at Asla’s comically large travel bag and smiled. “I’m sure Freki put your papers in there somewhere?”
She sighed and nodded. “It’s in the lower left pocket. He gave me a thorough explanation,” she admitted and hoisted the backpack. “Well then, let us go.” With a flare of mana, she bounded off the ridge and caught up to the other two quickly. The diviner put his book away and blinked after them.
Fortunately, Devol’s knowledge and possibly his position as the son of a guard captain was indeed a big help as the small team was able to enter the capital with little effort. As they proceeded, the boy pointed out the sights, from a watch tower that was said to be the place where a great general directed the Monleans army from during an attempted invasion a couple of centuries before, to the garden district that was favored by many magi as a relaxing area to study their practices. He then took them through the Monleans’ trade market, the biggest in all the kingdom. It was there, as he showed them some of the fashionable wear in the capital, that a familiar voice called to him.
“I know that tenor,” Devol said with a smirk as he looked around and waved at an approaching figure in white-and-gold armor. “Captain Castiel!”
The others noticed a rather young man with long blond hair and fair skin and an inviting smile who waved in response. He approached them quickly and placed his hands on his waist as his smile widened. “I thought it was you, Devol. It’s good to see you back,” the guard captain said cheerfully. “Were you ever able to find the Templar Order you set off for?”
He gave him a playful frown. “Do you think I’ve been running in circles these last few months?”
“It’s a possibility,” Castiel retorted with a wry grin that took any possible sting out of the words. “You’ve always been more gung-ho than thoughtful in my experience.”
“Well, you should have a little more faith, good sir!” he chided as he placed a hand on Jazai and Asla’s shoulders. “These are my friends, Jazai and Asla. They are recruits in the Templar Order like me.”
“A recruit?” Castiel asked, momentarily astonished. “And here I thought you were dead set on being a guardsman.”
“I did too if I’m honest,” Devol admitted and pointed at Wulfsun. “But I think I can do more as a Templar. This is Captain Wulfsun. He’ll be my mentor.”
“You might want to hold off on that declaration for a wee while longer, lad,” the man chided but he chuckled as he extended a massive hand toward Castiel. “A pleasure. I’m Baioh Wulfsun of the Templar Order.”
Castiel took his hand and studied him with a mixture of surprise and awe. “Baioh Wulfsun? I never thought I would ever meet you. My mother has told me stories of you.”
“Your mother?” the large man questioned, his eyes wide with confusion and a trace of concern. “Who would that be, Captain?”
“Corrin Gale. She told me stories of her
time in the Templar,” the guard revealed.
“Corrin!” Wulfsun shouted and caught the attention of several people around them. “Then yer her son? My word. Has it been so long that you’ve grown up to be a guard captain, no less?”
The younger man grinned and nodded as he reached behind him. “Indeed. If you would like more proof…” He withdrew what appeared to be a lamp, a winding metal cage of gold where a glowing orb hovered in the middle. “She passed this down to me.”
Wulfsun was taken aback when he saw the guard captain’s majestic. “Fyrehart. Well, I’ll be…” he said wistfully. “I never thought I would see it in action again. It’s good to see it still fulfilling a duty.”
“I always try to make her proud, sir, and her comrades as well,” Castiel replied and put the lantern away. “She always speaks fondly of her time in the order.”
“Aye, she was always warmer than any hearth for us, especially during the dangerous missions,” Wulfsun said with a smile. “When she left to have you, we all missed her greatly. But given the kinds of things we have to deal with, it was better that she cut all ties and started anew. Although I suppose if she’s passing stories along, we haven’t completely faded from her heart.”
The guard captain shook his head and his eyes seemed a little misty. “Not at all, sir. I wish I could take you to her but she moved to Britana a couple of years ago. She said she missed the air there.”
The Templar nodded knowingly. “Aye, I was rather surprised to hear she’d decided to settle in Monleans, but I guess going to her homeland right away would have been something of a tip-off. Why didn’t you go with her, lad?”
Castiel shrugged and looked at Devol. “Well, while Britana is her home, this is mine. Once she passed her majestic on to me…well, I was fast-tracked into the captain position. I couldn’t leave my people.”
Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2) Page 7