The Land of the Undying Lord

by J. T. Wright

  “Gentlemen,” Michael said to the two Guardsmen, who by some miracle had failed to notice anything out of the ordinary happening in the last few minutes, “kindly inform my father I have arrived.”

  The Guardsman closest to the doorknob wasted no time knocking on the study door. Without waiting, he opened the door an inch, but before he could announce the Captain, a stern voice came from within.

  “You’re late, get in here!”

  Michael gestured for Trent to follow him and pushed the door open. As it closed behind him, the two guardsmen exchanged glances. A quiet word would be spread amongst the Guard later that day, that now would be a bad time to test the Captain’s patience.

  **********

  The Duke’s study was lavishly decorated compared to the antechamber. Three paintings, one of the city, one of the Trial entrance, and one of the Keep hung on the walls. Two comfortable looking chairs sat before an imposing desk made of dark bloodwood. A tall, sturdy bookcase filled with books on history and law stood against the wall to the right of the desk. And behind the desk, glowering unhappily, sat the Duke.

  Lewis Al’dross was a stern-looking man. Dressed in black and silver with a warrior’s build and the refined features that marked his nobility, no one seeing him would doubt his authority. All people sought to reach Level 50 as it was known that doing so greatly extended one’s lifespan. Lewis’s youthful face, below his graying blond hair, was a testament to his achieving and passing this goal. He was a man of power.

  Michael noted the traces of anger on his father’s face. Only a fool could miss them. “Father, I...” he started.

  “You will stand and remain silent!” The Duke ordered. He didn’t yell, but each word hit Michael like a fist. Behind the Captain, Trent stared at the floor and tried to make himself as small as possible.

  The Duke’s eyes drilled holes into his son. “Is it possible that you think I am unaware of what takes place outside this room? That,” he spat, pointing towards the antechamber, “was poorly and disgustingly handled!”

  Michael’s face flushed with shame and embarrassment as he drew himself to attention. His eyes stared straight ahead as Lewis continued. “There were many ways you could have handled that situation. The easiest was to simply open the door and walk into this room. Do you think anyone would have stopped you? Instead, you chose violence and intimidation! You chose to make an enemy, and you chose to disappoint the trust I’ve placed in you!”

  The Duke kept his son pinned in place with a glare, while his right hand reached out and touched the whispering rod he kept on his desk. Whispering rods were an elven device used for short-range communication. They had limited uses but were popular among the wealthy for issuing orders to trusted servants.

  The Duke channeled a bit of Mana into the device and spoke. “Helmand, get in here.”

  Seconds later, the door opened and closed as Helmand scurried in. He had smoothed his clothing, but his face was still red, and his throat showed signs of bruising.

  He moved to stand next to Michael and bowed. “Milord.”

  “You seem to think it is your place to decide whom I will consent to see. It is not!” The Duke barked. “I trust my son has shown you your error and you need no further reminder. I’m sure you are now aware that I always have time to meet with my children and officers.”

  Helmand nodded and bowed again, “Yes, My Lord.”

  “This situation is ridiculous.” The Duke sighed. “I will have it put in the past.”

  Michael immediately turned to face the Scribe and bowed low, far lower than he was obligated. “Master Helmand, my actions were without cause, and I have no excuse. I beg your forgiveness.”

  Helmand returned the bow. “I am not without fault, Captain,” he said stiffly. It was hard to admit wrongdoing to a man who had thrown you into a wall. “Milord Duke puts up with my eccentricities, and that may have gone to my head.”

  The matter was hardly solved with these few words, but the Duke was satisfied for the moment. He gestured for the two men to take seats.

  Michael gave his father a surprised look when he realized the Duke intended to have Helmand remain, “Father, my news is...”

  “Michael,” Lewis cut in, “do you think I would have a simple Scribe as my personal aide? Helmand is a Scribe, and a Scholar, as well as a Diviner and Mage. His counsel has value to me.”

  “I see,” Michael said, giving Helmand, who was doing his best not to look smug, a disdainful look. “Then, you should both meet Trent.”

  Michael looked around to bring the boy forward but could not find him at first. Trent had panicked when Michael sat down, and he was exposed to the Duke. He had suddenly plastered himself to the back of Michael’s chair and was currently thinking small thoughts. This grey-haired nobleman with his air of command was terrifying.

  The Duke hadn’t missed the small boy who was attempting to hide in plain sight. “Come now, boy. You have no reason to fear me. Step out and be seen.”

  Trent thought there was plenty of reason to fear him. However, the Duke was his master’s father. As his master’s Master, he was to be obeyed, so Trent stepped forward and stood in front of the desk. Only the slightest signs of reluctance showed in his movement.

  “Are you well, boy? Hungry? Thirsty?” Lewis inquired as gently as he could. Trent shook his head. This was not the proper way to respond to a Duke. Helmand started to instruct the young Summons, but Lewis held up a hand.

  “That’s good then,” he said. To Michael, “Have you brought him to be evaluated yet?”

  “No, Sir,” Michael responded. “His situation is special. I thought it best for you to perform the evaluation.”

  The Duke raised an eyebrow. He did have the Scribe Profession, and his Profession Level was higher than the Keep’s Head of Scribes. It was certainly possible for him to perform the evaluation, but it was without precedence. A fact Helmand was most willing to point out.

  “Ridiculous!” the Adjutant spluttered. “What possible reason could there be to inconvenience his lordship over a mere boy? A Summons?”

  “Seven slots,” Michael said calmly. If his father wanted to trust this man, then Michael would have to as well. Hopefully, they wouldn’t regret it. “in both Class and Profession.”

  Helmand’s jaw dropped, his body stiffening in shock. The Duke was subtler, his eyes darted to Trent and narrowed, but to those that knew the man, this was even more telling than Helmand’s reaction.

  “I see,” the Duke said after a moment. His hand reached out, this time not for the whispering rod but into his desk drawer. He took out a thin golden disk about as wide as his palm and placed it on the desktop.

  The disk was carved with numerous intricate runes that glowed faintly as the Duke channeled into it. He always kept this anti-scrying device in the desk, but he had only activated it a handful of times since he became Duke.

  With the device activated, the Duke spoke to Trent. “Come around here, Trent.”

  Trent didn’t want to move closer to the Duke but could not disobey the command. He moved to the Duke’s side of the desk and stood warily.

  The Duke set out a piece of paper and picked up a writing quill. “This won’t hurt, it won’t even take long. Some particularly sensitive people have claimed they felt a slight tingle from the Skills, but that is most likely their imagination. It shouldn’t be unpleasant.”

  The Duke seemed to expect an answer, so Trent nodded. He really had no idea what was going on. The Duke was just looking at him, holding the quill above the paper, completely still.

  The Duke activated the Evaluation Skill. It was a Scribe specific Identifying Skill that allowed the user to perform an in-depth study of a subject’s affinities with Skills, Classes, and Magic. It was mostly used to determine which path a person should follow for the most efficient leveling. It wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, but it was commonly used on those who were about to choose their first Class or Profession. Rather, it was commonly used by newly Awa
kened who hoped to join the military or become Adventurers.

  For commoners, who would only be able to choose the Commoner Class, it was useless. For those that had the choice of a true Combat Class or specialized profession, it was invaluable. It was best to know at the beginning if your talents were for the sword or spear. It was very difficult to change your course once you started down a path.

  The process was quick; information was obtained almost instantly. Writing the information down was the only time-consuming part. Michael and Helmand expected the Duke’s poised quill to begin scribbling immediately.

  But the Duke never moved, and after a moment he set the pen down. “You are quite the surprise, Trent,” he said eventually.

  “What is it, Father?” Michael questioned anxiously.

  Lewis considered his words carefully. “Evaluation is more of an art than a science and I’m not practiced at it. That doesn’t matter with Trent here though. As far as I can tell, the boy is equally suited for all Skills, abilities, and elements. He’s like a rough sketch, waiting for the details to be drawn in.” The Duke continued, his eyes never leaving Trent’s face, “Add a sword to the drawing, and it will become a Warrior. Place a staff in his hand, and a Mage appears calling fire and flood equally. This boy can learn whatever we chose to teach him.”

  All three men leaned back in their chairs simultaneously. Trent stood, perplexed. He understood the words but not their reactions. He was subjected to contemplative stares of wonder and had no idea why.

  “This must be held secret.” Helmand was the first to speak. Say what you will, the man may be pompous at times, but he was loyal, and this Summons had the potential to rock the Kingdom. “He must be trained immediately.”

  “Without a doubt,” Michael said. “But how? In what?”

  “Why Seven?” The Duke asked suddenly, to the bemusement of all present. He stood and began pacing the room, thinking out loud. “With his talent and affinity, Trent could easily surmount Level barriers with a single Class, and yet he can choose seven.”

  He paced restlessly for a minute before stopping and looking down at a confused Trent. “You are unique, lad. The Trials are known for throwing out earth-shaking wonders from time to time. Those wonders are meant for a purpose, usually to combat a greater Trial that is coming.” The Duke knelt to study Trent closer.

  “The world is a Trial.” He whispered. No one else spoke. Helmand and Michael, out of respect for the Duke, Trent because he had nothing to say. “What do you want, Trent? Which path would you choose?”

  Trent’s brow furrowed. There was only one answer to that question. “I wish to be of use to my Master.”

  The Duke grinned. “Really? With a loyalty of 38, you still wish to be of use to that spoiled daughter of mine?” The Evaluation had clearly shown Trent’s plummeting loyalty. Lewis had been amazed that his daughter had managed to almost break her Summons contract in less than a day. Only Kirstin could inspire that strong of a reaction.

  Trent shrugged. “I don’t know anything else.”

  The Duke nodded and returned to his seat. “Then we will make you useful until the time comes when you desire something else.”

  He took a pouch from his belt and spilled the contents onto his desk. “I prepared these just in case you might need them.”

  Shiny polished stones? Trent leaned forward to get a closer look. How would these make him useful?

  The Duke separated the stones into two piles. There were twenty of them, of various colors and sizes, none larger than a plumb pit.

  “These are Skill Stones,” he explained, pointing to one pile. “And the others are Ability Stones. The Skill Stones are generic basic stones, inexpensive and easy to both produce and find. Ability Stones are rare, expensive and come mostly from the Trials. Do you know the difference between Skills and Abilities?

  Trent shook his head. He’d read the words on his Status but beyond that...

  “Skills can be learned with hard work and are generally Class based. They include attack and movement techniques that define a particular type of fighter or Profession. A few like Dash,” The Duke said, picking up a small blue stone, “can be learned by almost any physical Class.

  “Abilities, on the other hand,” he drew Trent’s attention to a larger purple stone, “are inherently more powerful and versatile. Like Skills, each Class has certain associated Abilities, but a few rare ones can only be found or earned in the Trials, although you still need affinity with them to obtain them. Some can mimic spells, but they require less training and Mana or Stamina to utilize. Others are unique. This one is particularly rare, it’s called Map. It adds a mapping function that automatically records where you’ve been and stores it. A scout with this Ability and the Scribe Skill is an invaluable asset to any military. As simple as this Ability seems, Adventurers have been known to kill for it. With it, you will never lose your way.”

  He placed the Map stone in front of Trent and picked up another. “This is Storage. At Level 1, it can contain ten items which are only accessible to the user. It takes Mana to store and remove items, but it’s far more valuable than storage devices because it completely eliminates the weight of anything stored in it.”

  He placed that stone in front of Trent as well, before considering the rest of the pile, “Not much else here is of use to you until you’ve leveled up. Except for Dash, of course.” Another stone joined Storage and Map. “An excellent way to train Constitution and Agility for beginners. Ah, and Truth Sensing.”

  The Duke could see that Trent had no interpersonal skills and was entirely naive. Truth Sensing was the perfect way to protect him from the less reputable members of society.

  Helmand was of a different mind. “Are you sure that is wise, your Grace?”

  The Duke paused with the stone in his hand waiting for the aide to continue.

  “Truth Sensing is an excellent Ability, but it comes with its own drawbacks. While I’m sure Trent is an honest lad capable of learning it, once he does, he will always be an honest lad. Excellent quality in a soldier or guard, but detrimental to other professions. Once he masters it, it will close certain options for him.”

  Lewis considered the man’s advice and reluctantly set the stone aside. “True enough. Map, Storage, and Dash will do for now.” He picked up the Map stone and placed it in Trent’s hand. “You need only the desire to learn it, and you will.”

  Trent considered the Ability Stone with uncertainty. Would this make him stronger? Well, it couldn’t make him weaker, and it might make him more useful to his master. The decision made, the stone flashed brightly and then crumbled into dust.

  You have gained the Ability, Map. Provides an internal map which always shows your location as well as any place you have visited. Cost: none.

  The message notified Trent of the stone’s effect, and the knowledge of how to use the Ability planted itself in his mind. He closed his eyes and a dot, representing himself, appeared on a field of black. Apparently, only places he had been after he gained the Ability were shown. That was a little disappointing.

  He opened his eyes and looked at the Storage stone, then at the Duke for permission. Receiving a nod, he accepted the Ability.

  You have gained the Ability, Storage, Level 1. You may store up to ten objects. Basic cost is 25 Mana per item stored or retrieved. Larger objects may require more Mana to store. Similar objects may stack.

  Twenty-five Mana to store one item! That was half his total. He looked at the Duke, a touch disgruntled. After he explained his discontent, the three men laughed. Obviously, he needed training, but he wouldn’t have such limited Mana forever. Also, the cost would go down as he Leveled the Skill.

  “What does it mean that similar items will stack?” he asked afterward.

  “That means you can store ten rocks, and it will only take up one space in storage,” Michael told him.

  Trent eyed all the Skill Stones left on the table. “So all those would fit in one slot?”

  “N
o,” Helmand answered, “items with power usually require their own slot. You might store five ordinary knives in one slot, but you will need five slots for five knives that are enchanted.”

  Trent nodded in understanding, though inside, he felt that the Ability was a little unfair. He couldn’t even use it freely with his Mana, not that he had anything to store in it anyway.

  That only left Dash.

  You have learned the Skill, Dash, Level 1. Increases movement speed by ten percent at a cost of 1 Point of Stamina per second.

  Another expensive Skill. He could use it for less than a minute and afterward, if he understood Stamina correctly, he’d collapse. This time he managed to keep his features still, but the Duke seemed to have a mind-reading Ability.

  “Use it carefully during training, and I think you will be pleasantly surprised at the results,” Lewis chuckled.

  “As to training, how should we get him to Level 1?” Michael queried. “We can have him run errands in the Keep and unlock a Class in a week, but...”

  “But the world rewards risk,” Lewis continued. “If we treat him as a Page, we might potentially cripple his growth.”

  “He can hardly be sent into the Trial at present or allowed to wander the wilds fighting beasts,” Helmand said.

  “No, but the Guild has plenty of ‘fetch and extermination quests’ available and never enough newbies to complete them,” the Duke said slowly. “That would teach him quite a bit and earn him Experience for leveling.”

  None of them really liked that idea. Trent was too exceptional to let loose in the world. After discussing other options, like sending him on patrols with the guards, they realized that the Guild Quest had to be it. Anything else was an artificial inflation of his Level, which would be harmful in the long run.