by Sam Ferguson
Lepkin led the way and Erik counted off three paces and swung his sword through the air.
“You no longer have to do that,” Lepkin announced without turning around.
“Why not?” Erik asked.
“As I said before, the purpose of your walking routine was so that others may judge you.” Lepkin turned around with a smile. “For better or worse, I think that others will judge your actions today for many days to come.”
CHAPTER 2
“Erik, grab the bucket and follow me,” Janik said.
“Are we cleaning windows again?” Erik asked.
“Well, you’re good at it,” Janik replied with a chuckle.
Erik didn’t mind washing windows. It was certainly better than sitting and writing lines to work off his demerits. He also liked having the freedom to talk, and Janik seemed to like having company as well. The two had become fast friends, or at least, Janik was the closest thing to a friend that Erik had at Kuldiga Academy.
Janik was not like Master Lepkin, or any of the masters that Erik knew. He was warm and friendly, even with strangers. His eyes were so green they seemed to sparkle, and there was always a smile on his face. He wore an old, tan tunic under a set of brown, grease stained coveralls. Most of the other masters in Kuldiga Academy rarely, if ever, spoke to Janik, except to order him around, but Janik never seemed to mind. Erik often thought that the two could be brothers they were so similar, except that Janik was well into his fifties now.
Over the months Erik had spent working off his demerits by helping Janik the two talked about everything. Almost everything, that is. Janik walked with a terrible limp, and his left hand was curled at the wrist permanently like a fleshy hook. The cause of Janik’s disfigurement was the only thing that Janik refused to talk about. Erik had asked about it once, but after seeing the look on Janik’s face, he decided not to bring it up again.
“I noticed you aren’t swinging your waster when you walk anymore,” Janik said.
“Master Lepkin said I didn’t have to do it anymore,” Erik replied. He scooped up the bucket and turned to follow Janik.
“I suppose he figured you used it enough during this afternoon’s swordplay,” Janik said.
“You heard about that eh?” Erik asked.
“I watched it from one of the second story windows on the south side,” Janik replied.
Erik nodded his head. He wanted to ask what Janik had thought of it. After all, Erik had defeated many of the other Apprentices of the Sword, but there was something in Janik’s tone that stopped him.
“I hope your arm is still strong enough to clean windows,” Janik said as he handed a rag to Erik.
“I’m alright,” Erik replied. “I’m getting sore though, especially my shoulders.”
“I thought you would. Tomorrow you will likely be very stiff and achy.”
“Master Lepkin had one of the Apprentices of the Hand take a look at me.”
“Bah, what do they know about it?” Janik grumbled.
“Well, they are training to be healers,” Erik replied with a shrug.
Janik waved his crooked hand in the air and shook his head. Erik wondered why Janik seemed so bitter about the healers.
“Actually, why don’t you set the bucket down and come here?”
Erik put the bucket on the floor and walked back to Janik. The old, crippled man hobbled over to a counter, unlocked the top drawer, and pulled out a cobalt blue bottle. He seized the cork with his teeth and yanked the stopper free.
“What is that?” Erik asked.
Janik spit the cork onto the counter and held the bottle out to Erik. “Rub a bit of this on your shoulders. It’ll help keep you from getting too stiff.”
Erik took off his shirt and poured some of the clear liquid into his hand. It had no smell, but the oil felt cool in his hand. As he rubbed it onto his shoulders, the cool, tingling sensation turned hot. The heat penetrated below his skin and went deep into his joints.
“How’s that?” Janik asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Erik replied happily. “What is this?”
“It’s a special mixture that I use on my wrist and leg sometimes.”
Erik gently placed the bottle back on the counter and replaced the stopper. “Where did you get it?”
“Lady Dimwater makes it for me,” Janik replied. “It sure beats anything those wanna-be healers have, that’s for sure.”
“Do you know her well?” Erik asked. “Lady Dimwater I mean.”
Janik raised an eyebrow and turned to put the bottle back into the drawer. “I know her well enough.”
“Is there something between her and Master Lepkin?” Erik asked.
“It isn’t proper to speak about others behind their backs,” Janik replied.
“But if you saw the duels, then you must have seen the argument between Lepkin and Orres. They would have drawn swords against each other if not for her.” Erik folded his arms and waited for an answer.
“Actually, they would have drawn swords because of her,” Janik replied. “A long time ago, that is,” Janik clarified.
“What do you mean, exactly?”
“I have told you too much already,” Janik replied.
“I must know,” Erik pressed.
“Why, what business is it of yours?” Janik demanded.
“Janik, don’t be like this. Either you tell me, or I will find out for myself,” Erik promised.
Janik smiled slyly. “Very well, put the bucket back in the corner.”
Erik scurried over to the bucket and put it away. Janik watched silently. After the bucket was in its place, Janik pointed to the door. Erik was confused for a moment. He was unsure whether he was being dismissed or asked to close the door. He decided to close the door, hoping that Janik was about to disclose a great secret.
“Put your shirt back on,” Janik instructed as he tossed Erik’s shirt at the apprentice’s face.
Erik caught it and fumbled as he tried to quickly pull it over his head.
“I know you well enough to know that you won’t stop pestering me about this,” Janik said. “But, you will not mention to anyone what I am about to tell you.”
“I swear,” Erik replied.
“Lady Dimwater’s study is in the south tower,” Janik began. “If you want answers, you will have to find them for yourself, but be forewarned that if you are caught this will be far worse than any amount of demerits you can dream of.”
Erik’s toes fidgeted inside his boots. He was almost as excited about Lady Dimwater’s study as he was scared of getting caught. “How do I get in?” Erik asked.
“Luckily, I happen to have the spare key.” Janik pulled a large key-ring from his coveralls and searched through the seemingly endless keys. After a few moments he separated a green key from the ring and tossed it to Erik. “As a janitor, I have access to all rooms in Kuldiga Academy, except for Master Orres’ study.”
“If I get caught, they will know you gave me the key then,” Erik mused.
“If you get caught, I will say that you stole it,” Janik replied. “You do know the penalty for stealing, yes?”
“I do,” Erik replied with a heavy sigh.
“This is your last chance to turn back. You can either help me clean windows, or you can search for your answers. Which will it be?”
Erik thought hard for a few moments. The risk of getting caught would likely get him expelled, if not thrown in the stockades first, and dishonor his adopted family as well. He would probably never be able to find work outside of his adopted father’s manor either, unless he was willing to join the army as a regular. But, on the other hand, he had long wondered about Master Lepkin’s history. Maybe he would finally be able to unravel the mystery of the great battle at Gelleirt monastery, and of course, what exactly caused a rift between Lepkin and Orres. The trophy was too much for Erik to turn down. He reached out and grabbed the key from Janik’s hand.
“I’ll go,” Erik said decisively.
“Then, for both our sakes, I suggest you not get caught.” Janik limped over to a small desk and sat behind it in a padded chair. He shuffled a couple of papers on his desk and then looked at Erik. “I have often seen a diary on Lady Dimwater’s desk. I would imagine that the answers you seek can be found in it. Usually all of the Masters and Ladies are gone around four-thirty. Since today is a Friday, no one should be around at all tonight, except for me and Groundskeeper Rick. I will need the key back tonight by eight o’clock. If the key is not back by then, I will have to fill out a report stating that the key is lost. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” Erik replied. He glanced over at the grandfather clock by the window. “It’s almost five, shall I go now?”
Janik waved his hand and sighed. Erik couldn’t be sure if Janik was happy about this, but Erik had to know more about Lady Dimwater. What was between her and Master Lepkin? Had she used magic to calm Master Orres in the courtyard? And what was the potion she made for Janik? These, and many other questions about Master Lepkin, ran through his head as he made his way toward the south tower.
As he walked through the halls, Erik was careful not to make heavy footsteps. He kept an eye out for people as well. He strained his ears, listening for any sign of others, but the halls were empty. He relaxed a little after he passed through the dining hall. He knew that he was going the right way when he noticed that he was walking past paintings of great wizards of the past. He didn’t know much about wizardry aside from the fact that magic was a gift. You were either born with natural ability or you had to turn to the dark arts to gain it. There were many stories of dark wizards in the land that struck deals with demons in exchange for great powers. In fact, the existence of the Shadowfiends, as they were called, was almost the sole reason for the existence of Kuldiga Academy. Since Kuldiga Academy’s founding, new problems and threats rose against the kingdom and Kuldiga Academy was expanded until it finally became what it was now, with several different types of apprentices learning and hoping to graduate as professionals in their specific fields.
Erik paused to gaze at a grand depiction of a sorcerer battling winged demons on a mountain. The colors were striking and overall the painting was masterfully done, but that is not what captured his attention. In the painting there was a second human. This man held an axe and shield, covered in blood. At the man’s feet lay four slain demons, but it was the man’s face that Erik stared at. It looked like Janik, if you took away the wrinkles from Janik’s face that is.
Erik looked down at the brass plate on the bottom of the frame and read the words etched thereon.
“The rescue of Lady Zana, daughter of Count Reginald,” Erik read aloud. Erik squinted at the painting, trying to discern if the axeman really was Janik.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Erik saw something move across the hallway. He turned, but saw nothing. He listened carefully, but there was no sound. The hairs on the back of Erik’s neck stood on end and a chill ran down his back. He gave the painting one more look and then resumed walking toward the south tower.
As Erik exited the hall with the paintings, he couldn’t help but turn and look over his shoulder. He could feel something watching him. It was the worst feeling he’d ever felt. He looked around the small chamber, which was merely an intersection of four cold hallways, and checked for any sign of movement.
“Don’t let fear take control,” Erik whispered to himself. “Janik walks here every day cleaning the rooms. If it’s safe enough for him…” Erik stopped short as a strong wind blew through the hallway behind him. It sounded as though the wind itself was growling at him. He burst into a sprint straight down the next hall. He ran past sets of armor on display, tapestries, paintings, and the occasional door or window, but he didn’t stop to look at any of them. Something nipped at his heels and the wind growled louder. Erik ran faster and faster. He dared not turn around.
Soon he could see the end of the hall. The door to the south tower loomed in front of him. His feet carried him faster toward the dead end as the growling came nearer to his head and something almost grabbed his pant leg. He knew he would have to turn and face his hunter because there wouldn’t be enough time to unlock Lady Dimwater’s door before it took him from behind.
Erik spied a set of armor displayed on the right side of Lady Dimwater’s door. The gauntlet held a spear upright. Erik knew it was his only chance. He raced for the spear and ripped it from the stand with such force that the gauntlet was flung across the hall and clashed against the wall. Erik dropped to slide on his knees. Just before he reached Lady Dimwater’s door he spun around and pointed the spear upward, digging the butt of the spear into the crack under the heavy, oak door for support.
A silvery shape, too distorted to identify, parted around the spearhead and flew right past Erik and through the door. The growling was replaced by a hiss as the mist flowed by. Erik remained on his knees, his hands relentlessly held the spear ready.
What was that? Erik wondered. He slowly stood up, keeping his muscles tense and ready. He thought of going back to Janik and leaving Dimwater’s journal alone, but he couldn’t go back now. Whatever it was, it was gone now. There was no sense in abandoning his mission.
He stood the spear in the corner and pulled the green key from his pocket. He slipped the key into the hole and turned it slowly. The tumblers clicked into place and the door budged open. Erik glanced around once more and then pushed the door open. He poked his head in and searched the room for any sign of the apparition, but all was still. Sunlight flooded in from a window, illuminating the room. A large, open book lay on Dimwater’s cherry-wood desk amid strewn papers. A disorderly pile of books leaned against the side of the desk. An empty, brass birdcage stood in a far corner of the room. Erik saw many bookshelves lined with books, beakers, and various animal skulls. Erik slipped through the door and closed it gently behind him.
He went to the desk. He sat in the chair and looked at the large, open book. It was an old dusty and yellow tome that described the history of various regions of Terramyr. He pushed the book aside and started to search for Dimwater’s diary. He pulled open the drawer and rummaged through some old, stiff papers. Some were potion recipes, some were anatomical drawings, and others were written in strange languages that Erik did not understand. After a thorough search of the drawer he found a small, leather bound book under the papers. He pulled the book out and opened it. He hoped he had found the diary, but again he was disappointed. The pages inside were blank. Erik replaced the book and closed the drawer.
Something big growled in front of him.
Erik slowly lifted his gaze. A great, silver wolf stood with its front paws on the desk in front of him. Its snarling lips curled back to reveal shiny, white fangs as long as Erik’s fingers. The wolf lowered its head and stared directly into Erik’s eyes. Erik’s body froze. The fear gripped him so tightly that he couldn’t move. He sat paralyzed, helpless, as the wolf inched closer.
The wolf slid a paw forward on the desk. Its ears were flat against its head and its eyes never broke their gaze. Erik knew he had to do something, but he couldn’t. Even when he felt the wolf’s breath on his face he could barely blink.
The wolf opened its massive jaws and Erik could see its throat. He had nothing to fight with. His waster was back in Master Lepkin’s study, and he had left the spear in the hall, but he knew he had to try something –anything! Finally, he broke the spell and lunged forward at the wolf with his fists. He let out a feral yell and swung at the wolf, but his fist never connected.
The wolf was gone, just as suddenly as it had come. Erik took a moment to catch his breath. His heart was pounding like a hammer in his chest. He leaned back in the chair and wiped his brow.
“I better find that book and get out of here,” Erik told himself.
“I don’t think so,” someone said.
Erik stiffened and looked around. A purple light, no bigger than a candle’s flame hovered just above where the wolf’s head had been. The light e
xpanded slowly at first and then it exploded. Erik threw up his arms to shield himself as the whole room was washed in violet. Then, it collapsed inward on itself. An instant after the light vanished all of the furniture in the room disappeared.
Erik landed hard and hit his rump on the bare stone floor. Everything was gone. The books, the beakers, the birdcage, and every single piece of paper had vanished.
“What is this?” Erik asked.
“It’s magic,” the voice answered condescendingly.
Erik looked up and saw a woman standing over him. “Lady Dimwater,” Erik said breathlessly. He scrambled for something to say, but Lady Dimwater was first to speak.
“I know why you’re here,” she said. “You have come to learn for yourself the truth about my past. Is this not so?”
Erik wanted to explain that his curiosity was just too strong. He had so many questions that he hoped her diary would answer for him, but he was too shaken up to form an explanation. Everything had happened so fast that he couldn’t collect his thoughts.
“You don’t have to speak,” Dimwater said. She waved her hand and a rectangular, wooden table appeared off to the side. She snapped her fingers and Erik watched two chairs materialize on opposite ends of the table. A red, silk table runner appeared and unfolded itself along the length of the table. Next, two plates, a teapot, and a large clear bottle filled with green liquid appeared.
“Come and have a seat,” Dimwater instructed. She took a seat with her back to the wall.
“Yes, ma’am,” Erik replied. He got up and walked over to the empty seat. He reached out and grabbed the chair, just to make sure it wasn’t an illusion.
Dimwater chuckled and motioned for Erik to sit. “The chair won’t disappear, I promise.”
Erik nodded, but he kept his hand on the chair until he was completely seated. “Can I ask a question?” Erik asked.
“May I ask a question,” Dimwater corrected. “Of course you have the physical ability to speak and arrange words into question form, but since you are asking for permission the correct way is to say May I.”