by Lisa Cassidy
“It’s a beautiful morning for sparring, isn’t it?” Howell called out.
The man turned towards them as Howell approached, his long-fingered hands settling against his belt. Alyx only barely stopped herself from flinching when his sharp gaze landed on her; the way he stared through her, as if dismissing her as utterly unimportant, made her simultaneously angry and thoroughly intimidated.
“My new initiates,” Howell said. “They’ll need to begin training with the others here.”
“Of course.” Cold blue eyes flickered over them again, flashing with faint disapproval. “Master Romas informed me of their late arrival. Leave them with me.”
“Try not to incapacitate them in their first lesson, if you can help it.”
His mouth turned up in a slight smile. “I’ll do my best.”
Howell nodded and turned back to Alyx and the twins. “Enjoy your lessons.” With that he was gone, whistling under his breath as he walked out of the yard.
Their new trainer turned to them, his voice as sharp as his eyes. “I am Master Rothai. Three times a week, you will attend me in the morning after breakfast for two hours of physical training. I do not tolerate tardiness. If you are late, there will be consequences. Do you have any questions?”
Alyx shook her head with the twins, a pit of nervousness opening in her stomach. Things had been bad enough so far but she had a feeling it was about to get worse. Learning to fight was not something she’d thought would be a part of mage training. She’d never seen Astor lift an aggressive finger in her life, though she did remember the staff that had always rested in the corner of his cluttered rooms. Surely Lord-Mage Casovar wasn’t expecting them to do any fighting once they returned to Rionn? What would her father think? What would the court think?
“Good.” Rothai nodded at their silence. “Most of the initiates here are more advanced in their training, so you will find it difficult to catch up. Do your best, apply yourselves, and you’ll get there eventually.”
“Yes, sir,” Finn said when it looked like Rothai was expecting a response.
“Come with me. I’ll assign you partners, and we can begin.”
“From what I’ve heard, the Zandian Emperor and Tregayan King both use warrior mages,” Finn said in an undertone as they walked.
“DarkSkull Hall trains mages in all aspects of life, Initiate,” Rothai said. “You will not graduate as a mage unless you master all disciplines taught here to an acceptable level.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alyx found herself partnered with a girl who was taller and fierce-looking, with Tarrick’s dark skin and hair.
“I’m Jrui,” she introduced herself. “I’ve heard you’re an innocent. Don’t expect me to make allowances for you because of that. Neither of us will learn from me babying you.”
“Alyx,” she said. Giving her full title likely wouldn’t make Jrui go any easier on her.
Jrui nodded. “Try and keep up, Alyx.”
Rothai’s voice called out for everyone to pay attention, and those warming up immediately stopped what they were doing and lined up in neat rows with their partners.
“Tarran and Oscar have been working on a technique I’d like you to learn this morning. They’re going to demonstrate, and then you’ll all try. As usual, I’ll walk around and correct your mistakes.”
Though her newly cut staff held up well, Alyx’s body did not. The focus of Rothai’s lesson was disarming an opponent. She had paid attention to the demonstration, but the moves had been too quick and complex for her to really understand the manoeuvre. Plus, the uneven surface of her staff chafed the soft skin of her palms whenever it slid through her hands, which caused her to be timid in using it.
Jrui’s increasing impatience with her uselessness only increased Alyx’s humiliation. When the girl took her turn, her first well-placed blow landed firmly on Alyx’s knuckles. Pain shot through her hand and she dropped the staff. Gritting her teeth, she picked it up and faced off against the initiate again.
Jrui’s second blow hit the same hand, and fresh blood welled. Her third blow hit Alyx’s other hand when she was too slow to move away. Each time, Alyx picked her staff up off the ground, tried to prevent tears of pain from falling, and resumed the battering.
“Haven’t you ever done this before?” Jrui finally asked in exasperation.
“I never had a reason to,” Alyx said miserably.
“What do they teach young people in Rionn? Everyone in Zandia learns the basics of fighting as children,” Jrui snapped.
“We have soldiers to do the fighting. I’m a noblewoman; people would be horrified if I learned to fight.”
Jrui’s look of contempt only deepened at Alyx’s words, but at a shout from Rothai, they both continued sparring.
The session seemed to last an eternity, but eventually it ended with Rothai telling them all they were dismissed. Alyx spotted Dawn, and the two girls were amongst the first to exit the yard. Alyx was limping from a bruised shin while Dawn had a livid bruise on her right cheek.
“That was so much fun,” Dawn mumbled.
“I can’t move two of my fingers, do you think that’s a bad sign?” Alyx said, then frowned as Dawn halted suddenly.
“Look what they’re doing to that initiate! Where’s Master Rothai?”
Dawn’s voice was indignant; across the yard, a blond-haired boy her own age was being shoved up against the stone wall of the sparring yard by three apprentices. The boy winced in pain, and the older ones laughed and shoved him against the wall again, harder this time.
Alyx glanced around. The other students leaving the training yard were studiously avoiding what was happening. She wanted to do the same, but before she could say anything, Finn joined them.
“Looks harsh,” he said in sympathy.
“Is that all you have to say?” Dawn demanded.
“Well, yes.” Finn looked as if he didn’t know what Dawn wanted from him. “They’re really roughing him up. I feel sorry for him.”
“You don’t feel the need to do something?”
“Dawn, I don’t even know him. What am I supposed to do?”
Dawn glared at her brother before walking towards the apprentices and shouting something Alyx didn’t quite catch. One of them turned, scowling at the interruption. He had the same black hair and dark-coloured skin as Tarrick and Jrui, but looked older and substantially bigger.
“Oh no,” Finn muttered under his breath, and started moving towards the scene himself.
Cursing inelegantly under her breath, Alyx reluctantly followed Finn. She recognised the second apprentice bullying the blond initiate as Oscar, one of those who’d demonstrated in front of the class earlier.
“Leave him alone,” Dawn was saying calmly as Finn and Alyx approached.
“Who are you?” the dark-skinned youth sneered.
“There’s no need to speak like that to my sister,” Finn spoke smoothly. “Why don’t we all just step away?”
“How about you walk away before I squash your head with my bare fists, Initiate?”
Alyx sized up the situation. The older, broad-shouldered apprentice looked perfectly capable of squashing Finn’s head with his bare hands. She took a step backwards, trying to appear as if she wasn’t involved. The stream of students coming out of the yard was slowing to a trickle and she contemplated sidling away to join them. While she felt bad for the blonde initiate, the look on the dark-skinned apprentice’s face genuinely scared her.
“Please, just leave him alone,” Dawn continued bravely.
“What’s she doing?” Alyx hissed at Finn.
“Dawn, come on. This isn’t our business,” Finn pleaded with his sister.
“How can we leave? They’re hurting him.”
Alyx glanced over. The initiate looked scared, but his green eyes flashed with muted anger. She respected that, doubting that she would be able to summon up anything but terror in his position. He struggled against his captors, kicking out at Oscar, who easily avoided the kick. T
he apprentices burst out into derisive laughter.
“I feel sorry for him, Dawn, but if you push this, those bullies will turn their attention to us. There’s nothing we can do,” Alyx said. “Let’s just leave.”
The dark-skinned youth grinned in amusement at the exchange between Alyx and the twins. “You should listen to your friends,” he told Dawn. “They may be cowards, but they’re smart.”
“Sometimes that doesn’t matter.” Dawn remained where she was.
Finn glanced between the initiate being held against the wall and his sister, then sighed. A moment later, he walked over to stand shoulder to shoulder with Dawn.
Alyx stayed where she was. The dark-skinned apprentice’s eyes had a murderous look as he advanced on the twins. Oscar and the third apprentice still held the initiate firmly against the wall but had momentarily stopped their beating as they watched with interest.
“What’s going on here?” Tarrick strolled over, hands in pockets, an easy smile on his face. “All of us should be in our classes—you know what happens if we’re late, Fengel.”
“Well, well, Tarrick Tylender,” Fengel said in amusement, turning his attention away from the twins. “Leave us alone, or find yourself in Brynn’s position.”
Poor Brynn squirmed and struggled in the chokehold Oscar applied to his throat. His face turned red as he gasped for air. Alyx became genuinely concerned for his life and was glad she’d decided to back away. Again, she considered leaving entirely but worried that her movement might catch Fengel’s attention.
“You Dirsks are all the same.” The easy smile remained on Tarrick’s face. “Cowards. Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?”
“You mean somebody like you?”
Before Tarrick could react, Fengel raised his palm and an orange fireball came sizzling from it, singeing Tarrick’s hair and right ear as it flew past. Tarrick winced and raised a hand to his ear, but held his ground.
“That’s enough!” Rothai’s voice barked into the ensuing tense silence.
Alyx exhaled in sheer relief as the mage exited the yard and crossed towards them. Everyone’s attention turned to Rothai, whose blue eyes flashed with anger. He slapped Tarrick across the face hard enough to send the initiate stumbling, and then gave Fengel the same treatment.
“I said class was dismissed. That means you leave,” Rothai seethed. “If I catch you using magic on an initiate again, Fengel, I’ll expel you. Now, hurry up before I think of a suitable punishment for disobeying my orders!”
They scattered, Alyx as quickly as everybody else.
“What was all that about?” Finn asked Tarrick as they scrambled away. A bruise was quickly darkening on Tarrick’s jaw, and his right ear looked bright red from the scorching. As with everything else at DarkSkull so far, physical bullying was completely outside Alyx’s experience. Her father had told her it wouldn’t be easy—but surely he hadn’t expected her to be hurt?
“Family houses are very important in Zandia. Our families—the Tylenders and Dirsks—are amongst the oldest and most powerful mage families,” Tarrick explained. “You’re innocents, so this won’t make much sense to you, but mages are politically powerful outside of Rionn. Our fathers are enemies, both seeking the other’s power. The Dirsks are pathetic cowards and Fengel is his eldest son.”
“He’s also bigger than you and better trained in his magic,” Alyx said. “Couldn’t you just leave him alone?”
Tarrick gave her an annoyed look. “And disgrace my family by being a coward?”
Alyx winced, his comment instantly resonating with her. She’d been raised to honour the Egalion family name, always sensing how important that was given she was an only child. If it wasn’t so much a fundamental part of her, she’d have worked out a way to get herself expelled and sent home by now.
“Isn’t staying alive more important?” she asked weakly.
“My family’s honour is more important than my life,” he said, his tone indicating she’d asked a stupid question.
She wasn’t sure she’d take it that far—her father would certainly prefer her alive—but Alyx had exhausted her arguments.
“Why were Fengel and his friends picking on Brynn?” Finn asked.
“Brynn is what we term a lesser mage. His magic is in his voice; he can perfectly imitate any sound or voice you could think of. But that’s all he can do.”
“And that’s a reason to beat him up, almost kill him?” Alyx wondered if she’d ever come to understand mage culture.
“He’s lesser, and not from a pure blood family.” Tarrick shrugged.
“Like us,” Finn said, gesturing to Dawn and Alyx.
“There’s a pecking order here, best you learn that quickly,” Tarrick advised. “The strongest students—Fengel included—demonstrate their superiority by quashing those they consider inferior. Brynn’s not going to have an easy time here, and neither will you if you draw Fengel’s attention again.”
“They looked close to choking Brynn to death.” Alyx was indignant. “Is killing other students all right, too?”
“Of course not,” Tarrick said, then cast them a sideways look. “That’s not to say students haven’t died during training before.”
“What does that...” Finn’s voice faded as they spotted Howell approaching. Tarrick instantly split away, muttering something about finding his master.
“Follow me, please,” Howell spoke as he walked past them.
“I’m sorry to get you both involved. I couldn’t just stand by and watch,” Dawn said.
“It was awful,” Finn allowed. “Imagine how it would feel if you were Brynn, and nobody stood up for you?”
“Terrifying,” Alyx said honestly. “Still, Dawn, you would have only ended up the same way.”
“I know, but I couldn’t stand there and do nothing, like you.”
“Fengel was serious about harming us!” Alyx said, stung. “He almost choked that initiate to death.”
“And what would you have done if it were Finn or I in that situation? Nothing? You said yesterday we were in this together.”
“I...” Alyx swallowed. “Dawn, I can’t fight, and I don’t have magic. There’s nothing I’d be able to do to help you.”
“That’s not the point. I don’t want to be the kind of mage that hurts others, or stands by and watches it happen.”
“Fine, but you’re not going to be much of a mage at all if you get hurt before you finish training.”
“I think you both have good points,” Finn intervened. “Dawn, I will always have your back, even if that means getting beaten up by a big muscular bully. But staying away from Fengel entirely seems the most sensible course of action.”
Howell had halted outside a domed building, waiting as they caught up to him. Alyx glanced at Dawn as they walked, hoping the girl wasn’t too angry with her.
“You three look a little scrawny to be picking fights,” he observed. “Maybe you should hold off on drawing attention to yourselves until you learn more… or grow a few inches.”
“Yes, sir,” Dawn replied for them, ignoring Alyx’s pointed look.
“I brought you here to show you something.”
Howell pulled a key from inside his robe and opened the door, his gaze lingering on Alyx. It swung inwards soundlessly, and they followed him into a cool, silent room. Daylight from large windows in the domed ceiling gave the place a light, airy feel.
Grey marble squares covered the floors, but the room had nothing in it except for a granite stand in the centre of the room. A glass case sat on the stand and Alyx’s eyes were immediately drawn to its contents.
Howell gestured towards it. “That is a Taliath sword.”
Alyx edged closer, her eyes drinking in the softly glowing blade. The weapon had been forged of steel and even to Alyx’s untutored eyes it looked sharp and beautifully crafted. The ivory hilt was a work of art; the grip was curved to fit the hand of its owner, and the guard had been fashioned to look like the spread wings o
f an eagle. Some other metal had been worked into the hilt, and it shone a faint blue in the light from above.
“Where did it come from?” Finn asked with fascination. Dawn rolled her eyes toward Alyx at this sign that her brother was becoming enraptured with a topic of learning, but in this case Alyx found herself in agreement with him.
“A Taliath who died in the war against Shakar. In part, we keep this here to remember the hundreds of Taliath who died alongside mages in that war.”
“Shakar?” Finn queried.
“Today’s lesson is not about Shakar, Initiate. We will discuss that at another time.”
“I thought the Taliath were gone?” Dawn asked.
“It’s true that after the tragic accident eleven years ago, the Taliath as we knew them no longer exist.” Howell hesitated, and something crossed his face that Alyx couldn’t interpret. “However, it is likely that Taliath potentials will be born in the future. Some have probably already been born in fact, but it would take many years for them to grow and develop.”
“Who would train them?” Finn wanted to know.
There was a longer hesitation this time, and Alyx frowned, wondering why Howell appeared to be choosing his words so carefully. “A good question, Finn, but perhaps one for another day.”
Alyx reached out to touch the cool glass, drinking in the ethereal beauty of the blade. For the first time, she felt a touch of real sadness that she’d never meet one of the legendary Taliath. She thought back to her father’s admission that he and the king had fruitlessly been searching for Taliath. Did Howell know about that, she wondered? How well informed were the mages?
“Has anyone tried to find them?” she settled for asking.
“The short answer is yes. The council has put some effort into trying to find any new Taliath born.”
“What are the Taliath exactly?” Dawn asked, shrugging when Finn rolled his eyes at her. “I mean, even in Rionn we’ve heard the stories, but what was the reality?”
Howell favoured her with a smile. “There have been centuries of discussion over whether the Taliath were mages or something different entirely. No matter which way you argue, there are several things that set Taliath apart from mages.”