Homecoming (Homecoming Chonicles Book 1)

by James Thornton

  "Oh? And what is it accomplishing then?"

  "Getting me ready to beat you with this damned stick,"

  He stared at her with blank eyes. "Fair enough,"

  They continued training without the constant whacks from Ozes. She found it much easier to focus without them. The stances were awkward, but they had started to feel somewhat natural. She repeated the steps with Ruephen for what felt like hours until she started to match him.

  “Enough,” Ozes said. “It’s time to back to using your talent.”

  “Not time to rest?”

  “There is a bath and cot down the hall,” he said. “You can use it after you finish the next training.”

  She stared at him. Her eyes screamed murder.

  “Doesn’t seem little one wanted that answer,” Ruephen said. “Wants a bath now, Master.”

  “Little one can speak for herself,” Ozes said. “If she wants to get a bath then she’ll finish the training quickly.”

  “Fine,” Vyra said.

  Ozes explained the training in depth, though what it added up to was rather simple. Carry the dagger. Don’t be seen. “Kill” Ozes before Ruephen noticed. Vyra knew she could go unseen, but not how to carry the dagger. Would have been easier if she could make one appear. The difficult part would be to get close. She had only really used her talent to get further away from people. This would be different.

  The first few tries were a disaster. Ozes sat in a room across from the bath. Ruephen sat at the start of the hallway that led to either. Each time she attempted to make it past Ruephen, he would reach a hand out and grab her by the face. He never even raised his head.

  When she learned to make it past Ruephen, Ozes would call her before she even stepped into his room. Hours upon hours passed and she repeated the same steps. She was so close that she could have touched him. But when she began to reach her dagger out, he spun and disarmed her.

  “Closer, that time,” he said. “Would have killed a lesser man. Again.”

  She continued to repeat the practice. She was so close, but it only became more difficult. She was no longer even sure why she was even in the training. She could walk away, up the stairs, and they’d never know. Maybe it was the challenge. Perhaps she felt as if there was something to prove. But the game had tested her patience long enough.

  Rather than attempt to sneak into Ozes’s room, she entered the one across the hall. Inside was spacious, but one thing caught her attention. Beneath a copper tub, coals glowed dim red. The tub itself was filled with water, with a bucket sat on its ledge. She didn’t need to be convinced any further. She disrobed, her clothes no longer under the effect of the veil as she did, and gently climbed into the tub.

  Minutes, maybe hours, maybe days passed. She woke up to the sound of a conversation in the room across and tepid water. She took a look around the room she was in. A small cot with only a mattress was shoved off into the corner, against a shelf. In fact, all the walls were covered in shelves. Wooden weapons sat on them, covered in dust. There was one thing that wasn’t there that seemed strange for a room with a bath, though. Towels.

  She climbed out of the tub as quietly as possible and dressed. The clothes stuck to her wet body, but at least the veil would hide her nakedness. As she picked up the dagger, she noticed how it went unaffected by her veil. The answer was obvious. She tucked the blade into the waist of her trousers and covered it with her shirt.

  Ozes and Ruephen talked in his chamber and spoke of the training of the talents and the purpose behind it. Apparently, the High Mage hadn’t told anyone why so many talents were to be fully trained. Ozes hadn’t even heard of the elves until recently, it seemed.

  They finished their conversation, and Ruephen left. He walked out of the hall and back around the corner. Vyra walked into the room and hoped the dripping water wouldn’t catch Ozes’ attention. She made it all the way behind him, out of his sight. She pulled the dagger. Ozes still didn’t look back. She touched him on the back of the neck with it.

  He leaped from his chair and started to choke. Vyra tucked the dagger back into her waist as Ruephen charged into the room.

  “Master, you are okay?”

  “She got me, the sly little bitch,” Ozes said between laughs. “You can show yourself. You win.”

  “I’d rather not,” she said.

  “Have your bath and sleep,” he said. “There are towels beneath the cot in the other room. We’ll discuss the details of Forec’s request later.”

  “Forec’s request?”

  “Yes, you didn’t hear us talking?” he asked. “While you were waiting, Forec sent a message. He wants you to be able to fight. I thought this was close enough.”

  “So my training is over?”

  “Far from it,” Ozes said. “How would you like to play a game with the weaponmasters?”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Chapter 14

  Forec sat across from Insmith in the High Mage’s chamber. His foot tapped on the floor while she read from an ancient book. She had called him in hours ago. Most likely to torture him, he thought. Insmith turned to the next page. He was sure it was a sick form of torture. She looked up and stared him into the eyes then looked back down and continued to read.

  “What did you learn of the elves?” Insmith asked as she continued to read.

  “They were skilled fighters, even though Kura’Gasa said they weren’t soldiers,” Forec said. “Physically, I would say four to five times as strong as any man.”

  “Is that all?” she asked. “I expected more from you, Council Mage.”

  “They seemed ill-prepared to face any threat at range,” he continued. “They acted as if their armor would protect them from any threats.”

  “You didn’t happen to bring any of their armor back, did you?” she asked.

  “No, High Mage,” Forec said. “The thought never crossed my mind.”

  “Fine,” she said. “We’ll send out a recovery team.”

  “There will be plenty of bodies out on the fields by the wall,” he said. “The orcs were able to push back the elves.”

  “They were?” she asked. “That’s very interesting.”

  “Yes, High Mage,” he said. “It seems they are a great ally for us.”

  “Yes...of course, they are,” she said. “How did they manage it? By all accounts, they should have been overpowered.”

  “We did intervene in some small way,” he said. “As the soldiers from the wall were attempting to make it to the tops of the cliff, we held back the elves.”

  “Of course, you did,”

  “Your orders were only to hold our use of magic within Quisen, High Mage,” he said. “I wasn’t sure-”

  “What else did you find, Forec,”

  “The elves were unable or unwilling to change their strategies. They simply fought the entire time.”

  “That’s to be expected,” she said.

  “High Mage?” he asked. “What do you me-”

  “Enough,” she interrupted and waved her hand. “You will stay in Krux Aev’then until I find a use for you. Inform your squadron to be prepared at a moment’s notice.”

  “My squadron, High Mage?”

  “Forec, did you not realize?” she asked. “You are a squad leader now, those mages and talents are your squad. You’re responsible for them now.”

  “No, I did not realize that,” he said, he had to force his voice to stay steady.

  “You may leave me, now, Squad Leader Forec,” she said. She grinned at him as he stood and exited.

  Weeks passed, and Forec found himself stuck back in his old routines. He spent all his days within his chamber, he read through the hundreds of books scattered around his room and took notes. What he did find, though, were the contents of his notes were less abstract than they had once been. There was little in the way of theory, instead focused more on the practical experiences he had in the field.

  It was strange to think he had practical field experience in combat. He k
new how the magic he once wrote about in theory behaved in practice. The notes recounted how the elves reacted compared to how he assumed a human would respond. There hadn’t been a chance to see a human in a fight a mage. He focused more on the elves and how strange they were. The elves didn’t care in the least as both arrows and magic bombarded them, it was as if they had expected it. It was when the order to retreat was signaled that the elves fell from order.

  The more he thought about it, the more bizarre it became. Unless they had expected the magic. Kura’Gasa did mention they were from the same world. Was it possible thee elves had forms of magic? He wrote until the ink bottle had run dry and covered every topic that he had imagined. He arrived at one generalized assumption. For the elves to have such a reaction, they would have had to fight magic users before. Or they had magic users among them.

  He folded the notes he had scribbled and tucked them away into his robe before he stood and stretched. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to convince anyone of his theory. The portals were the only concrete evidence he had, but how those worked still eluded the mages. Insmith might, but if she did, she would hold onto that information with an iron fist. For the time, he would keep his thoughts to himself.

  It had been weeks since he had any contact with the world outside his chamber, any members of the squadron he was the leader of included. The very thought of “his squadron” sent a spike of anxiety that jolted down his spine. He was now the leader of people. How awful.

  The floor of his chamber was a field of paper and books were thrown about, as it had always been. And as it had always been, he tiptoed around it as he made his way to the door. He didn’t want to step on something that might have been important. Though he knew that most of it was garbage he had been too lazy to dispose of.

  He stepped out of his chamber to find Mauvia outside, asleep beside the door. She looked comfortable enough in his eyes, so he continued past and went to find Freedic. He was the only person he knew with any practical leadership experience. If he couldn’t teach Forec how to lead, then he could lead the squad himself. He would be in Aeberin’s chamber, no doubt, as he attempted to kill himself through training.

  It was a chore to navigate the halls of Krux Aev’then. Even more so when he ventured into the more practical-minded mages chambers. They had segregated themselves into their end of the keep. For the best in Forec’s opinion. Not that he had anything personally against them, only that practical applications tended to be loud or smell of manure. Too loud and too foul of odors.

  The halls were a maze of gray. He saw the occasional face that he chose to ignore on his way there. It was, in his opinion, the worst part of his stay in Krux Aev’then. He hated the mages he had spent so much of his life with. His segregation from most interaction was a benefit. Even the little bit of interaction that was forced to have was an affront to his sensibilities.

  He arrived at Aeberin’s chamber, the door was wide open, and the sounds of a fight came from within. Freedic fought against the mage desperately, as he did every day. Forec allowed himself in and observed as they whirled and darted around the room. He sat with a group of talents that Aeberin was in charge of training. They took notes and talked in quiet voices as the battle continued.

  He winced every time one of the men took a blow. They pulled none of their attacks and used their real weapons. Blood was sprayed around the room, and Freedic could barely stand. The fight continued regardless, even as Aeberin attempted to call it off.

  It wasn’t until Freedic fainted from blood loss that they ended their spar. Aeberin tended to his wounds—superficial for the most part—while Forec healed Freedic. He had come close to death, though that wasn’t unusual. The man fought like he wanted to get killed. All it did was make Forec and Aeberin have to work harder.

  Aeberin walked over to the talents and began to quiz them on what happened in their match. The answers were delightful to listen to. They focused on his absolute lack of self-preservation. Insults about his intelligence were popular, as were questions about his will to live. They weren’t wrong. When finally Freedic came to, Forec did what he felt would be most appropriate. He punched as hard as he could and knocked Freedic unconscious.

  The second time he woke, Forec managed to restrain himself and didn’t punch him. It was against his better judgment, but he didn’t want to wait. Aeberin finished his speech to the talents and walked over to Freedic as he began to come back to consciousness. He was awake conscious when Aeberin started to berate him. No reason to scold someone who isn’t awake.

  Forec gave them a moment. It was uncomfortable to listen to a grown man be spoken to like that by another grown man. But, it was easy to ignore an awkward conversation that you didn’t want to deal with. It was easy to ignore people, and he was good at it. So good, in fact, he often found he did it on accident.

  Aeberin finished his admonishment of Freedic and started to talk normally again. Forec felt comfortable enough to return. Freedic looked up at him. He remembered the punch in the face. That wasn’t Forec’s problem. He had deserved it. The conversation between the two had faded. They were sat in an uncomfortable silence. The silence continued when Forec arrived.

  “Did you really need to punch me?” Freedic asked. “I had a rough time of it in the first place.”

  “I don’t know if I needed to, but it felt damn good,” Forec said. “Besides, thought you might need some extra time to think over how damn stupid you’re being.”

  “Fuck off,” he barked. “I don’t need more of your kind criticizing me.”

  “It can’t hurt,” Forec said. “Besides, the only thing you’ve taught those talents is how to get stabbed properly. And if you weren’t so damned experienced at it, you would have bled out.”

  “Did you come just to repeat the same things Aeberin?” Freedic asked.

  “It’s true, I’ve already dug into him for this,” Aeberin said.

  “I came to show you this,” he said as he dug into his robes and pulled out his notes. “To get your opinion on it.”

  “What is it?” Freedic asked and shuffled through the papers. “Fucking hell how many pages are there?”

  “Twenty or so?” Forec said. “Not that many.”

  “Do you have a summary of it for me?” he asked. “My head is killing me. Couldn’t imagine why.”

  “Elves might have mages. We need to train to fight against them,” Forec said. “Thoughts?”

  “Not many,” Freedic said. “Not happy ones either.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Gather everyone up,” Freedic said. “We should start training for it.”

  Forec thought Freedic looked happy as he led training sessions. Their popularity was somewhat of a surprise. That mages listened to and respected to a talent was strange. The fact that the High Mage hadn't intervened and shut it down was bizarre. Maybe she knew something they didn’t. Perhaps the training would be valuable. The strategies and techniques he taught weren't necessarily new, but—as far as Forec knew—they were put into practice for the first time.

  Forec rarely attended those trainings. He wrote most of the techniques himself. On occasion, he would observe them and see what his methods looked like when applied. They were, as he had hoped, magnificent. They didn’t work as he had expected, the situations were too diverse, but that was to be expected. For the most part, all of his theories had worked as he had imagined, and for that he allowed himself to be happy.

  Much to his surprise, Vyra attended every training he had observed. Even more pf a surprise, she thrived in them. In the five or so weeks they had been at the keep, she had been training nearly non-stop with Master Ozes in the hollowed out tunnels beneath Krux Aev'then. She had made great strides in her ability to control her veil. And her ability to use a sword. While training, though, it was clear something in her had changed. Outwardly she acted the same. But in her eyes, he saw a cold interior. The same as what he saw in Insmith.

  As he studied in his chamb
er one day, the taste of blood returned to his mouth. He wiped his nose before it splattered on his book. More blood. He knew what it meant and began to prepare for a summons. His squad would be gathered in Freedic's training, and Insmith would request their presence at any time. With a sigh, he stood up and walked through his mess of a room and began on his way. The other mages, predictably, stepped out of their chambers. They once again assembled and imagined the horror that had occurred. Though, their tone shifted from speculation of horrible events to which nation the elves were in. Some progress, at least.

  It was almost as dull as their previous imagined scenarios, but Forec had direction this time. A reason to ignore the conversations around him and a purpose why he couldn't stop to talk. It was quite a relief.

  In Aeberin's chamber, Freedic led his typical training routines, with many of the mages within the group distracted. They wiped at their noses and spoke to each other quietly.

  Forec stepped into the room and sat off to the side as Freedic finished his piece. It was only a few minutes after he arrived that Freedic called the training to a close. Helien, Mauvia, and Vyra had been at the training, but Ruephen and Ausa were nowhere to be found.

  He had Mauvia find Ausa and Vyra retrieve Ruephen. Mauvia was as close to Ausa as anyone could be, and Vyra trained with Ruephen’s master. He left himself with Freedic and Helien. His regret was immediate.

  Freedic, in his opinion, thrived in the role he had taken. Not only was he effective as a teacher, but during his spars, he no longer let himself take blow after blow. He fought with little regard for his safety still, but he didn’t try to get killed. He fought the same way he had in Quisen, Forec noted, before he had heard or seen what happened at the wall.

  Helien was never a man he expected to change. In fact, he probably couldn’t. He was useful for the training though, as the most exaggerated version of a mage. Impulsive, unpredictable, and violent. The unfortunate bit about him, though, was his apathy toward anything that wasn't fire. Freedic had still found him quite useful.