by Andrew Rowe
“Oh?” She turned away from Landen, quirking a brow at Taelien.
“You wanted to gather information earlier – we can do that right now. Just not the kind of information you were talking about.”
“Go on.”
***
“I’m not sure how looking at paperwork would be considered exciting, Taelien.”
The swordsman retracted his hand, pulling the stack of papers to his chest and giving her a hurt look.
The three of them were sitting in the commissary, and they were not the first to arrive. She saw a few other recruits with bags under their eyes – including that pompous blade sorcerer, Keldyn Andys. As big as he talked, he must have been just as nervous as they were. That soothed her ego a bit, which simultaneously made her feel a little bit like a horrible person for reviling in someone else sharing her misery.
Emotions were such nuisances sometimes.
“You could at least look at them.” Taelien frowned.
Velas sighed. “You’re such a baby sometimes.”
She stuck her spoon into the nondescript gruel that served as “breakfast” in here. This paste is so thick I’ll probably develop my arm muscles just by stirring it.
Taelien handed the papers to Landen.
The brown haired former Queensguard scanned over the first page, then raised an eyebrow. “Where’d you get these?”
“I have friends in high places.” Taelien smirked.
“Okay, so what did Lydia give you that’s so impressive?” Velas continued stirring her food, although she glanced toward the doorway and noticed a trio of unfamiliar figures wandering into the room.
The first was an androgynous looking brunette with a long scar that curved from beneath her right ear to the center of her chin. While she had no visible weapons, Velas noted that the newcomer moved with the kind of confidence that came with being prepared for instant violence. She wore an immaculate red tunic embroidered with the symbol of a rose with a dagger blade in the place of a stem.
The second was a clean-shaven man in glistening plate armor, the same symbol on his breastplate. Velas rarely saw anyone wearing armor in the commissary, but it wasn’t strictly unheard of. The matching heraldry was more interesting – it wasn’t uncommon for multiple members of the same family or organization to try to enter the paladin examinations together, but she hadn’t seen other groups like that yet.
Finally, a towering figure ducked through the doorway, nearly his entire form concealed within a voluminous red cloak. As he walked, she saw a glint of matching armor beneath, and a pair of weapon hilts on his hips. His face was concealed by a veil of similar material to the cloak and his eyes were a darker red than his garb. He had no sclera in his eyes.
Wearing a cloak and veil into the mess hall? That’s a little bit pretentious. I suppose he wants to cultivate a “mysterious” image, but he’s trying far too hard.
It was none of those three that truly intrigued Velas, however. A lone man entered several minutes later, quickly taking a seat in a far side of the mess hall, his back to the wall. He was tall, with an athletic build, and cleanly cut short blonde hair. His form-fitting black shirt helped emphasize the musculature in his arms, while a cerulean vest and a darker blue hat displayed a hint of style that she rarely found amongst the other paladin recruits. A bronze-hilted rapier sat on his left hip. The complete image struck her as the ideal of a traditional Valerian duelist, but the way his eyes scanned the room instantly upon his entry indicated a degree of caution that usually came from more covert work.
For an instant, his eyes locked on hers, and his expression twisted into a grin. He tilted his hat down toward her in a form of acknowledgement, and she nodded her head and pressed two fingers from her left hand against her forehead. If he recognized the gesture, he made no sign.
“Think those three are here for the trials?” Velas waved a hand to indicate the newcomers.
“Yeah,” Landen said, “Because they’re described right here.”
That got her attention.
“What?”
Landen leaned over the table, whispering to her. “These are dossiers on all the applicants.”
Velas gave a low whistle. “Okay, Sal. I take it all back. That does sound interesting.”
“Sal?” Taelien raised an eyebrow. “Never heard that one.”
“I think it’ll stick. Taelien is too pretentious, and Salaris is a mouthful. Sal is cute, though.”
“Uh, thanks, I suppose.” He blinked, looking uncharacteristically stymied. She flashed him one of her usual grins, then turned back to Landen.
“So, when do I get to see?”
“When I’m finished,” Landen replied. “After all, you told ‘Sal’ they sounded boring.”
She sighed. “You could at least read me the highlights.”
“I’m not sure we’re even supposed to have these.”
Taelien shrugged. “I already asked the trainers.”
Both Landen and Velas turned to stare at him.
“What? I didn’t want to get in trouble later. And they said something about information gathering being a useful skill, so it was fine.”
You are so naïve sometimes, Sal. I’m not sure if it should be infuriating or just adorable.
From Landen’s expression, she could tell he was thinking along similar lines.
“Never mind. If you want to discuss this, we should do it elsewhere,” Landen said. “You two done eating?”
Velas thrust her spoon deep into the gruel, and then pulled upward, lifting the bowl. “Yeah, I think I’m done.”
***
Landen’s apartment was much better furnished than Velas’. She never understood why people needed fancy things like rugs, tapestries, and the like – even though her family had always had them when she had grown up. Practical things she could understand; additional colors and artistic flourishes were just noise.
Nevertheless, she had long ago learned to pretend. “Nice painting, Lan. That new?”
She pointed at a random portrait on the wall. It was a depiction of General Therin, white-bladed sword in hand, looming over a vanquished Vyrek Sul, the former ruler of the Xixian Empire. Therin was bare-chested and looked more like a sculptor’s model than a swordsman.
“Yeah, it’s my new favorite. You like it?”
Velas nodded. “Yeah, it’s a good one.” She could appreciate the male form, at least, and the detail on the ancient sword that Therin carried was impressive. The artist had put some work into researching the artifact, at least.
She took a perch on the side of Landen’s bed, cracking her neck to the left and right while the others sat down at the nearby kitchen table.
“Okay, so who are we up against?” she inquired.
“Well, it’s not really that kind of test,” Landen pointed out. “There are teams, but it’s not a direct competition.”
“Aww, that’s bullshit and you know it. The judges are definitely going to compare the performance between different teams, even if we’re not literally fighting each other. And, by the end, I fully expect we will be literally fighting each other. We’ve got a god of swords, remember?”
“Don’t get my hopes up,” Taelien said with a grin.
Couldn’t be any higher than mine. She squirmed a little on the edge of the bed.
“Are we all even on the same team?” she asked.
Landen shrugged. “Not sure yet. We need to make it through the preliminary rounds first. We’re likely to end up in the same platoon if we make it through, though, since we’re all classified as melee combat specialists. Also, I’m anticipated to have the highest score.”
“What? Let me see those!” Velas sprang to her feet and reached for the stack of papers, which Landen deftly swept out of the way.
“When I’m done,” he said. He pointed at the bed. She sat back down, folding her arms.
“He’s telling the truth,” Taelien said. “I skimmed them last night. I’m projected to have the lowest scores of
the three of us.” He sighed. “Apparently I ‘lack discipline’.”
“That’s true,” Velas said.
“Definitely true,” Landen echoed.
Taelien glanced at Landen, smacking him playfully on the shoulder. “Hey, whose side are you on here?”
“Oh, picking sides now, are we?” Velas grabbed a pillow from the bed, glancing at the two swordsmen with a menacing expression.
“Just read, Landen,” Taelien said with a sigh. “I want to hear your assessment on the biggest threats to our group.”
“You can read these,” Landen passed a smaller stack to Velas. “I’ve already read them.”
The next hour passed with minimal conversation as they each devoured the details about their potential competitors. There were hundreds of candidates, but Taelien only had paperwork for the locals and a few others that had arrived and registered early enough for Lydia to make copies of their dossiers.
After finding one particular dossier, Landen frowned and handed it to Velas. “What’s a ‘Bladecaller’?”
Velas glanced over the sheet detailing the capabilities of Keldyn Andys, the local swordsman reported to be blessed by the god of blades.
Keldyn Andys
Human Male Age 23; Hair: Blond, Eyes: Hazel
Height 178 cm, Weight: 76 kg
Experience: Priesthood of Tae’os 14 yrs., Tournament Duelist 1 yr.
Languages: Velthryn
Weapon Proficiencies: Sword (Teris, Velthryn, Aayaran), Dagger, Bow (Velthryn)
Sorcerous Proficiencies: Gifts of Aendaryn; Bladecaller
Expected Performance Rating: 88
Description: A third generation paladin. His mother, Sarellia Andys, was one of the Arms of Therin and deployed in the final push at Xixis. She was killed in action along with the rest of her unit in the aftermath of the battle. Keldyn was raised by his father, a blacksmith, and sent to train as an acolyte at 8 yrs.
At 16 yrs., Keldyn applied for a transfer from the priesthood to the Paladins of Tae’os. At the time, his application was denied due to his lack of experience.
Applicant Andys employed a private fencing trainer while continuing with his normal responsibilities as a priest, entering private tournaments and displaying progressively improved skills. He continued to serve in the priesthood until 22 yrs., at which point he manifested the Gifs of Aendaryn during a duel.
With Aendaryn’s favor clearly displayed, he was permitted to begin accelerated paladin training to prepare for the Trials of Unyielding Steel.
Finished with reading the document, she looked back at Landen. “A ‘caller’ is the local term for a sorcerer who specializes in summoning raw material. We’d call it a dominion sorcerer back home. They’d call me a Motioncaller, for instance.”
Taelien chimed in a moment later. “The other side of it is a ‘shaper’, which means someone who specializes in changing the properties of a material. Most sorcerers have some ability at both shaping and calling, but many of us specialize. They’d call me a Metalshaper here, for example.”
Velas nodded. “Or a core sorcerer of metal in Orlyn.”
Landen scratched his chin, glancing at Taelien. “What can you do with that? I’ve seen you magnetize things in Orlyn, or shift the mass of your sword. Can you turn copper into gold and make a fortune?”
Taelien shrugged. “Haven’t figured that out yet. I can only switch one or two things about an object at a time – and the appearance of a metal is derived from other characteristics, which makes that sort of thing tricky. I’ve heard it’s possible, but I’d imagine it would be very taxing on the body. Reshaping something into a material that has vastly different properties – like my magnetism trick – costs my body more than just redistributing the mass. Magnetism is tied to lightning, for example, so it’s like casting both a metal spell with a little bit of lightning involved.”
Landen tapped a hand on his leg. “But you can’t cast lightning spells, right?”
“Unfortunately, no. Not strong enough – but everyone has hints of every single dominion, and some spells can draw subtly from dominions that you’re not actually strong enough to cast from.”
Velas passed the dossier back to Landen, who handed it to Taelien. “Anyway, about Keldyn. There’s no known Dominion of Blades – no plane that’s just made up of a bunch of floating swords. Being a Bladecaller means that Keldyn somehow manifested the ability to summon swords out of…something. People think it’s tied to the god of swords somehow, since that’s something Aendaryn did a lot of in the old stories.”
Landen raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that something Sal could do?”
Taelien shook his head. “I’m no good at calling metal – but even if I was, I’d just be making a normal metal sword appear in my hand. This guy apparently makes floating, glowing swords that can fight on their own.”
Velas’ former Queensguard partner nodded appreciatively. “Okay, that does sound pretty impressive. Guess the god of swords does like him, then.”
“Maybe,” Velas shrugged. “Maybe he’s just picked up a neat trick. Anyway, enough about Keldyn. I want to see what some of the newcomers look like.”
The details on most of the foreigners were sparse, but Velas quickly found the ones she was most interested in.
Susan Crimson
Human Female Age 22; Hair: Brown, Eyes: Brown
Height 166 cm, Weight: 54 kg
Experience: Pre-Thornguard 4 yrs, Thornguard, 6 yrs.
Languages: Veltrhyn, Isendri
Weapon Proficiencies: Sword (Sae’lien), Spear (Sae’lien), Dagger, Lance, Bow (Isendri)
Sorcerous Proficiencies: None Declared
Expected Performance Rating: 52
Description: The third daughter of House Crimson, a lesser noble house in Selyr. Sent to Thornguard training at 12 yrs., most likely due to the family lacking sufficient lands to allocate to all children. Served 6 yrs. in the Selyr region and on deployment to the Lissec region. Combat experience in multiple encounters with Xixian forces while on deployment. Disillusioned with Thornguard politics, she chose to leave them after serving her mandatory years.
Velas put that dossier back in the pile, skipping the rest of the information. The question of the unusual heraldry solved, she didn’t find anything of particular interest about the young woman. She skimmed over the file on the armored man who had followed Susan into the mess hall next.
Bertram Colt
Human Male Age 24; Hair: Brown, Eyes: Hazel
Height 182 cm, Weight: 79 kg
Experience: Pre-Thornguard 4 yrs, Thornguard, 8 yrs.
Languages: Veltrhyn, Isendri
Weapon Proficiencies: Sword (Sae’lien), Spear (Sae’lien), Dagger, Lance, Bow (Isendri)
Sorcerous Proficiencies: None Declared
Expected Performance Rating: 43
Description: A former servant to House Crimson, Bertram Colt entered Thornguard training at age 12 yrs. After completing his training, he served for several years before being reunited with Susan Crimson, who he had known in his childhood. The pair left the Thornguard together after serving on deployment in the Lissec region.
Slipping that paper back into the file, she tapped her fingers on the table, considering. These are awfully vague. Not enough to really evaluate their motives or weaknesses. Still, neither of them sounds like much of a threat. Let’s see about Mr. Cloaky.
The Wandering War
Classified Species Male Age Classified; Hair: Copper, Eyes: Crimson
Height 194 cm, Weight: 85 kg
Experience: Details Restricted
Languages: Veltrhyn
Weapon Proficiencies: All conventional weapons
Sorcerous Proficiencies: Details Restricted
Expected Performance Rating: 100
Description: Bound servant of House Crimson. File restricted on the authority of Arbiter Stone. Observe with extreme caution.
Velas raised an eyebrow at the page. Expected performance of 100? All right, that one is far m
ore interesting than I gave him credit for. “Classified Male?” Does that imply he’s not Rethri? If so, what is he? I finally find something amusing and all the details are locked away. Figures. Going to need to see if I can get some better data on him later.
She frowned, passing that dossier over to Taelien, and began searching through the pile for the one she was most interested in.
Jonathan Sterling
Human Male Age 25; Hair: Blonde, Eyes: Blue
Height 185 cm, Weight: 74 kg
Experience: Soldier 4 yrs., Bodyguard, 2 yrs., Haven Knights 5 yrs.
Languages: Veltrhyn, Teris, Old Valerian
Weapon Proficiencies: Sword (Sae’lien), Spear (Sae’lien), Dagger, Lance, Bow (Isendri)
Sorcerous Proficiencies: None Declared
Expected Performance Rating: 71
Description: Born in Valeria, Jonathan Sterling served in the local military for the standard four yrs. After this, he spent two yrs. as a professional bodyguard to the Stalwart family. After saving the life of the family heir, he was offered a position in the Haven Knights, a prominent local knightly order. Several years later, he chose to apply to the Paladins of Tae’os following the departure of his grandfather, a former paladin.
After passing his basic qualifications, Jonathan indicated that he preferred to take the expedited examinations rather than serve as a squire due to his age and prior experience. His application was approved by Paladin Lieutenant Shaw on 4th Era’dae 3208 VC...
She skimmed the rest – she had already read the most important details. A Haven Knight, eh? I didn’t realize the Havens were sending their enforcers this far south. It’ll be interesting to try to figure out why he’s really here.
“Woah, look at this one,” Landen said, passing Velas another sheet. She only had to glance at the second line to see what he was talking about.
“A Delaren? That’s gotta be a joke.” She parsed through the rest of the page rapidly, shaking her head in disbelief.
The Delaren were a species of humanoids that were supposedly created in the earliest days of the world, much like the Esharen. After a war between their two races brought the Delaren to the brink of extinction, the Delaren went into hiding.