Linette only knew that she had reached the second level of the Order of the Eagle before she officially began her training. She guessed that was unusual and only happened because of dire circumstances. “In what year did Knilin reach the fourth level?”
“At the beginning of his second year.” Joshua’s head slumped as they continued to run at a conversational pace.
“When does someone normally reach the level of a master?” Linette asked.
“Twelve years.”
Linette decided then to not mention her early promotion. How did Knilin reach the level of master so quickly? Before his fight with Atwix, I guessed he was twenty-five. Then the idea hit her. “He became a wielder just before the Night of Sorrows.”
“Yes. He’s earned his title, having gone through the time when the Orders were at war with the Decayed.”
“Master Dulius thinks those times might come back soon. It’ll give you your chance to prove yourself.”
“I hope so—I mean, if it happened, I believe I have it in me to live up to my goals.”
“Now is not the time to be lazy then.”
He raised an eyebrow, then she picked up the pace. They spent the next twenty minutes pushing each other to run a little faster. When Linette didn’t think she could run any faster, they finished their sprint as they crossed the drawbridge into Claybury. They both nodded to the guards, who waved them through without more than a cursory glance. They walked along the Bailey between the inner and outer wall, catching their breath. Linette didn’t feel the need to say anything, his presence alone made her feel comfortable. Here, another reason she felt at home with her Order.
While she continued to regain a normal level of breathing, Joshua conjured two white spheres and used one to make himself float off the ground. The other he used to levitate a rock lying on the ground. He moved his body around in a circle from right, then down, then left, then up. While doing that, he moved the rock around his body perpendicular to his movements.
Linette enjoyed the view in more ways than one. She admired his desire to better himself, his charm, and good looks. But, what do you think of me? Did he know about what happened to her at the Castle when they accused her of murder? Did she risk letting him know?
She formed two spheres of her own, using the first to lift another rock. She’d never tried to move it around her body, but began to do so. When it left her peripheral vision, she waved her hands around like someone fumbling and heard the rock hit the ground with a thump. She tried again, but the rock fell when she lost sight of it.
Joshua continued his circular patterns, focused on his magic. The torches along the inner and outer walls lit the area well enough for her to see stress lines on his face and arms. He managed perfect circles, but not without a struggle.
Linette found her rock and lifted it off the ground again. It sat before her, hovering four feet in the air. She focused on her confident hope. Her belief or faith in the Creator. She rested on that and believed that she could do this even blind. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and then opened them. The rock hadn’t moved. She brought it around to her left, keeping it in her imagination. She saw it in her mind as it moved around her body and to her right. It stopped in front of her, still four feet in the air. Linette, let it fall and jumped with excitement. She sought Joshua’s eyes, but he did not see her accomplish this task.
Linette formed another sphere and lifted her body off the ground a few inches. She tried, but struggled without success to bring herself higher. She gave up and practiced with the rock more. She brought it before her and as she moved it to the right this time, she noticed Joshua walking toward her. The rock fell as soon as it left her point of view.
“Good try, that trick took me months before I did it the first time. It takes lots of practice.”
Linette smiled. “Maybe you can help teach me?”
“Of course.” Joshua smiled back.
“I enjoyed this. I should get to my errand. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Joshua nodded and grinned ear-to-ear.
Day 7 — Afternoon
Winthrop walked the three hundred paces to the Order of the Ox. As he approached, he noticed a horned helmet symbol burned into the twenty-foot wooden door that barred his entrance. That and the magical energy he sensed, left him with no doubt he’d made it his Order. Where is it coming from? It took him a few minutes, but then he realized that they made the entire gate out of magic. The presence of it was faint, but even Winthrop could sense it. The realistic appearance of the stone walls surprised him. Every time he’d used magic or seen someone else use it, the color remained blue like the sphere one formed. Winthrop touched it and its energy wash through him. “Amazing,” he said.
“Who goes there?” a voice called from inside.
“I’m a new member of the Order. Please let me inside.”
“Form a sphere,” the voice replied.
Winthrop hesitated. He hadn’t expected to be put on the spot. He began to sweat. “You can do this, Winthrop. You had no problem climbing the arch-path,” he whispered to himself.
“Well, come on then,” the voice had an urgency to it.
Before Winthrop tried, the door opened and the voice of Northa greeted him.
“Let him in, Tarb. He came with my group and fell behind.”
Northa stepped into view and gave Winthrop a scolding glare and then dropped it.
“Let’s be quick. We need to get you settled before the meeting.”
She led him inside. The gate fed into a hallway with doors on both sides. He assumed these exited to the Bailey. They walked on a stone floor and windows let light in every dozen feet. Tapestries filled the space between the windows and both brought some warmth to the stone hallway.
“How’d you miss our departure and how did you manage to cross the water, Winthrop?”
He hesitated to say. Winthrop hated tattling and the story also would embarrass him so he lied.
“I slept under the stars and must have overslept.”
She rolled her eyes. “How’d you cross the water?”
“I turned on the Archgate.”
“Did you turn it off?” She glared.
“No, I didn’t know how.”
“I’ll let it go this time but it’s in your best interest to clean up after yourself in the future.” She beckoned to the doorman and told him to find someone to dismantle the Archgate.
Northa frowned at him. “We haven’t much time. Let’s go.”
She continued walking. They had passed several doors on their way until she stopped at a large metal door and opened it. It led to a smaller hallway with several doors on each side. She brought him to the second one on the right and led him inside. The small stone room had one narrow window and lacked anything to give it much warmth. A mattresses lay on the floor with some blankets.
“It’s not much, but this is where you’ll sleep until you reach a higher rank and additional privileges. The Masters of the Order are holding an Order meeting that everyone is expected to attend. It starts in ten minutes. Leave your things, and I’ll show you the way.”
Winthrop left his small duffel bag of personal effects and followed Northa.
He noticed various members of the Order all scurrying toward this important meeting. He guessed that it had to do with Aurora’s betrayal and the need to seat someone on the Council of Light. They left his quarters and continued down about fifty paces to a large wooden door that also had the horned helmet burned into it. Northa opened the four-inch thick wood, and they stepped inside. It opened to a large auditorium filled with stone benches. They stood at the top and back of the large room and began to descend the stairs, approaching the stage. Northa shuffled him down a row in the middle, giving them a good view. The volume of people wearing blue cloaks staggered Winthrop. The Order of the Ox must have near five hundred members here at the castle. Are all of them here for this event?
Winthrop saw Jared walk by, but had remained unnoticed. Shannon di
d and gave him a disgusted look.
“Shannon,” Northa called.
“Yes, Lady Northa.”
“I understand it’s your fault Winthrop was late,” Northa said as she gave Shannon a stern look.
Shannon glared at Winthrop. “You don’t belong here.”
“That’ll be enough, Shannon. You’ll serve in the kitchen cleaning dishes three times this week.”
Shannon walked away with a scowl on her face.
Winthrop moaned. He hadn’t told on her. “How did you find out?”
“Why the complaint, Winthrop? She deserved punishment.”
“Word will get around that I tattle. People rarely like me to begin with.”
“You’ll make friends. Give it some time. It’s starting.” She pointed to the stage.
A slender woman in a deep blue cloak climbed the steps onto the stage and walked to the middle. She formed a blue sphere and filled it until the weight of it became too much and she let it drop onto the stage. It landed with a loud thud that grabbed everyone’s attention. The auditorium quieted, giving her leave to speak without yelling.
“I, Esme, Master of Masters of the Order of the Ox begin this two-hundred-and-eighty-ninth session of the Choosing. Will you hear me speak?”
The crowd responded unanimously, “Yes!”
“We enter this Choosing with a weary heart. Several of our people have betrayed this Kingdom and this Order, not least of whom was our representative on the Council of Light. Much debate has occurred since the knowledge came to us and many believe in different solutions to this problem of betrayal. It saddens me to know that this Order fell into darkness when the others have not. We are the resolute ones. We are the Order that stands firm when no other will. What has happened to us that we join sides with the Decayed? It is with a heavy soul that I resign my commission as Master of Masters. I have failed you. I have failed this Order.” She walked back to the steps, descended them and then ascended the stairs to the back of the auditorium and took a seat in the last row.
Northa gaped at her the entire time.
“What just happened?” Winthrop asked.
“The Master of Masters nominates the next representative. It’s been that way for hundreds of years. She… gave up.”
“What happens now?”
“There will be an election,” she said, leaving her mouth hanging open.
Winthrop turned his direction to the stage as two men climbed the steps and settled in the middle. The man on the right had a slender build with dark brown hair and deep-set eyes. The man on the left had a thicker build that reminded Winthrop of Markus. They both had the beginning of gray in their hair.
“Order of the Ox, I am Fath, Master of this Order and scholar.”
A few groans flew out of people’s mouth and Winthrop sensed a general unease.
“Will you hear me speak?” Fath, the one with the slender build, asked. He received a general acceptance but with a lack of enthusiasm.
“With the abdication of Esma, the bylaws of our Order calls for a vote. It suggests finding candidates which represent differing points of view on the current situation. Dymnos here wants to find the Decayed and eradicate them. I want to find a more diplomatic solution. I believe these two views account for the various perspectives of the current situation. Dymnos, correct me if I’m wrong.”
Dymnos stepped forward. He stood with a straight back and his muscles spoke of his confidence. “Masters and novices, will you hear me speak?” He said with a roar.
“Yes!” the crowd responded. Lady Northa blushed and began to fan herself.
“Fath is correct in his explanation of the competing views, but he is wrong to take a soft position on the Decayed. They are a menace and one that needs to be dealt with firmly.”
The crowd burst into loud whispers. The sensation seemed contagious, forming a smile on his face.
The crowd quieted down and Fath moved to speak. “Tomorrow evening, Dymnos will present his position on why this Order should elect him to the Council of Light. I will elaborate on my position the following night. Then, it’ll be put to a vote.
Winthrop doubted Fath stood a chance given the excitement over Dymnos. Even without knowing much of either of them, he knew where his vote would go.
He left and headed back to his lodgings only to find his mattress soaked through with water. A note stuck to the wall read: Jack the Ransacker didn’t belong to this Order and neither do you.
CHAPTER SIX
40 years ago…
Mapleglen brought tears of joy to Thomas’ eyes. Many stood in awe of its grandeur or even its view of the sea but the vineyard brought a smile to his face. Where one found alcohol one found a member of the Order of Man nearby. Thomas decided long ago to never attribute good circumstances to luck, the Creator, or fate. He merely controlled what he could and accepted what was out of his control.
Higel had traveled extensively across the Kingdom, looking for any clues regarding the four rules. Thomas often traveled with him but this time his father requested Thomas to follow-up on a lead in Mapleglen while he visited Mor. Thomas rushed to accept as it meant he’d miss a boat ride from Fradal to Kebril.
Two years had passed since they started this fruitless journey and Thomas had run out of vials of dark magic. Master Fiona gave them several and Thomas stole a few more. He’d saved them for special occasions. One such time was when they discovered how a member from the Order of Man reached the second progression of magic. It surprised Thomas, but it explained why the Order of Man remained secretive. To attain the next progression, a member had to do nothing while someone was harmed. This seemed cowardly to Thomas but then he’d seen his share of tavern brawls and stood by while the owner put a stop to things. What shocked him more was the abilities it gave the person: the ability to weaken someone with magic and it allowed them to heal a large wound. The duality of this Order brought a seriousness to Higel. After they discovered this, his father locked himself in his study for a few days. When the door opened, Higel asked Thomas to sit with him. “Son, there’s a reason the Order of Man is secretive. They do important things for this Kingdom. They heal people, save their lives even. More importantly, they make ale and wine.” His father smiled but only for a moment. “Thomas, I fear that what Fiona wants will bring ruin to this world. It would break my heart to search for years and years only to discover that I can’t in good conscience provide her with our findings. I won’t stop now but know that we may find the answer and never be able to tell anyone. In fact, we may have to die protecting that secret. Are you okay with that?”
Thomas had responded affirmatively. Higel did not know that Thomas dabbled with magic and when they found out how to reach the seventh level, he’d be the only master of the Order of Man. Unsure if he’d reached the second progression, Thomas cut his arm. Blood went everywhere. He’d sliced deeper than he’d meant to and the pain mixed with his poor attempts at slowing the bleeding made it difficult to wield magic. He stopped fighting the blood and poured out the contents of the vial. The sphere formed in his undamaged hand. He pressed it against the wound and watched as his skin absorbed the dark magic. It helped… sort of. Thomas had expected the wound to heal; to make his arm as it was before but that didn’t happen. He bled at a slower pace, giving himself the chance to bandage it and clean after himself.
Thomas studied the details they’d found in one of the scrolls Higel kept. After reading it several times, he decided that he hadn’t reach the second level yet. His father confirmed that the actions one had to take only started after you first used magic. This meant that when Thomas let that fool fall to his death, it didn’t count. Instead, it took several weeks of lingering around shady places with people who Thomas preferred to avoid to happen upon a poor fellow being robbed of his coin and his good looks. In a back street in the city of Gluon, the largest man Thomas had ever seen pulverized another man wearing expensive clothes. Why would you come to this part of town? Fool. Are you hiding something from
the missus? Thomas, on the other hand, carried his sword. He might have encountered trouble of his own, but he had confidence the advantage belonged to him.
Thomas stood close enough to watch but not near enough to be noticed easily. Violence never bothered Thomas. He stood there feeling nothing but impatience. He desired to stay long enough to fulfill the requirement but not a moment longer. His wound weakened his arm, and he only had so many vials to spend reaching each progression. When the giant of a man finished, Thomas left and found the privacy of the room he lent. This time when he applied the sphere to his arm it did what he’d expected the first time. It healed. Completely. Thomas opened and closed his hand, flexing muscles in his forearm. It felt like new.
Since then Thomas and his father discovered the path to reach progressions three and four. Thomas managed those with ease but found himself without any more vials. Higel had several still because he wasn’t using them other than to observe the contents. Thomas stayed his temptation to take them, knowing his father missed nothing. Which is why it brought Thomas great joy he’d come to Mapleglen alone and had noticed the vineyard on the outskirts of the city.
Now, he only needed to discover where they fermented the juice, turning it into wine. Without looking too suspicious, Thomas walked along the vineyard, inspecting the grapes. It took him the better of ten minutes to reach the end where he discovered a wide one-story dwelling. He stood behind the fruit plants, keeping himself concealed from anyone who might exit the building. Thomas considered walking in and explaining his father sent him to research the use of magic in making wine but nixed that idea considering they’d deem him the most likely suspect when the magic went missing. Instead, he needed a cover story—something that—Dong… Dong… Dong. The clock tower rang. Thomas counted and smiled as workers began to pour out for their lunch break. After waiting ten minutes, Thomas approached with caution. On his way to the entrance, he found a fist-sized rock and picked it up. Keeping it just behind his back, he entered. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust from the bright sun outside to the candlelight inside. It opened into an open space with large barrels containing what he assumed where grapes. His nose confirmed it. Further back, he found kegs each with skull and crossbones on the sides. Looking around, he found a crowbar to pop open the lid, finding it full of the dark liquid. He jumped back and pinched his nostrils. Thomas closed it, confirmed it wouldn’t reopen, and hefted it onto his shoulder. He made it as far as the entrance when someone called out.
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