The Spirit of The Warrior: The Axton Empire book 1

by Ryan Copeland

  He was born a citizen of the empire itself, as he wasn't from any of the Ten Kingdoms but from the Imperial City itself. He knew all the streets and shops as well as he knew his own family. But he hadn't been to the city in many years. Even after the Great War, he had met his father at the Ranger Garrison, Kovaiyemarck. He had sworn to himself never return to the city except under great need, and no need was more significant than the story he and the Mage had to deliver.

  Michael’s own trepidation in coming to the city continued to wear on him, though. Every step of the magnificent brown and white horse brought more and more worry and fear. As he continued on, he noticed faint specks hurling through the sky on the edges of the city. Then, as if on cue, a crowd of people near the bridge began pointing in the same direction he looked and talking wildly to themselves. "What's that over there?" he asked Tiberius, pointing into the distance.

  Tiberius looked and smiled broadly. "Those are the Dragoons, my young Mage. Fabled dragon knights from across the sea who can cut through the air as their progenitors did long ago."

  Michael turned to the veteran Ranger and exclaimed, "They're Narzethians!? In the Imperial City!?"

  Tiberius shushed him at once. The very mention of the Narzeth was a sore spot for many people in the empire. The wounds of the five-year war were still fresh to many who had lost countless friends and loved ones.

  "The Dragoons were slaves to the enemy for countless generations," he explained, his voice solemn and grave. "Our ancient foe has no mind for creation, only for domination and repurposing things to meet their evil intent. We liberated them early in the campaign, and they swore undying loyalty to the empire. The emperor named them true citizens of the Axton Empire, and they settled here to rebuild and recruit after the war ended."

  "Why are they called 'dragon knights'?" Michael asked. "Dragons have been gone from the world for nearly three hundred years. And even then, there is barely any evidence of their existence or behaviors aside from the history books."

  "Are you not a student of history and book, Mage?" Tiberius asked. "Believe me, dragons were real once upon a time."

  "I do not doubt your words, Sir. But how can you be so sure?"

  "Because when I rescued them, they were held captive amongst the bones and graves of dragons," he replied.

  "Forgive my ignorance. Please, tell me more about these dragoons," Michael said.

  "Long ago, they would ride dragons into battle. Not the large hulking beasts children pretend them to be, but smaller, faster dragons the size of this horse. They would leap into battle with their spears and decimate whole legions of soldiers who had no way to defend from skyward attack. But after the dragons died off, the dragoons gained the ability to leap high into the sky and cover great distances over the enemy's defenses. In this way, they could still fight as much as they had in the days before."

  Michael turned again to look closer. Sure enough, he could make out five figures leaping and bounding nearly a hundred feet in the air. If magic is indeed disappearing from our world, how do they and the rangers have their abilities? He had more and more questions and almost no answers at all.

  They trotted on in silence, observing the children and performers on the road as they went. Trevin had slowly made his way to his commander's side as they neared the city entrance, determined to spend a few fleeting moments with his lover. He had thought long and hard how to talk to Tiberius in such a way to not draw overt attention to themselves. In the end, though, he decided to speak what was on his mind like any ordinary person would.

  "The people look happy, Sir," Trevin observed, taking a small red carnation from a child handing out flowers to the passing rangers.

  "That they do, First Sergeant. A year of peace and prosperity will do wonders for a person. And children are particularly resilient," noted Tiberius, gazing at the dozens of children who had assembled to greet them. It was uncommon to see rangers in the city, and their presence lifted all the citizens’ spirits to know their greatest defenders were coming to their home.

  Trevin smiled as he smelled the flower and handed it to his commander. Their eyes met for a moment, each thinking of the other as they often did in their private moments. Tiberius took the flower and smelled it as well. He was reminded of the first time he and Trevin met and placed the flower inside his cloak. It wasn't his physique that had ensnared his heart, nor the kindness with which he spoke. It was Trevin's eyes. Deep and soulful. Eyes that Tiberius would hope to swim in one day when their duties and oaths were fulfilled.

  One day, he thought, one day, I'll grow you a garden with every flower in the world. We'll spend our days amongst them reading and talking about other men doing dangerous things in service of their country. But in his bones, he knew that day would be many years off from today. They held one another's gaze for many moments before nodding in understanding to one another and resuming their watch over the vast bridge.

  Two hours later, they reached the Imperial City. The Rangers dismounted their horses and stretched as stable hands nearby came to collect their horses.

  "Sergeants," Tiberius said, brushing himself off. "The men are given a three-day pass in the city. Have them in formation ready to travel home on the morning of the fourth." At his order, the Sergeants began issuing the command, which was met with great cheer and exuberance.

  These men deserve some downtime after all we've been through, he thought, smiling.

  "Trevin. Send word to Kovaiyemarck. Tell them we plan to stay here for three days and return after. Have them also issue a four-day pass to all the men there." He knew if his immediate men were given three days of free time in the city, it was equally fair to issue an extra day to the men who could not be with them.

  Trevin bowed and headed to the local Bird Post, wishing he could spend a few more minutes in his commander's presence. Zachary and Timothy bid farewell to the Mage. They told him where he could find them that night as they departed together to have some misadventure somewhere in the vast city. Once they were all gone, Michael turned to Tiberius, who stood in place, staring at the spire. After a few moments, Tiberius turned and summoned him to follow as he began making his way through the city.

  The city seemed like a maze of cobblestone paths and an assortment of stucco, stone, brick, and wooden homes and buildings. Around every corner, it seemed like there was a garden or park, with different types of trees and animals. He had lived in the Imperial City for two years undergoing his training. Still, he had never ventured outside the Citadel to see all there was in this city.

  People from all walks of life could be found wandering the streets and shops, taking in all the metropolis' wonderment. Children from the Black and Huffman Kingdoms were gathered around a street magician, making the most random objects disappear in his hands and reappear behind their ears. Musicians from Zelinka dressed in baggy clothes of many colors were gathered in Axton Plaza. They banged their massive drums and played a bright and happy tune on their horns as dancers twirled around in an exuberant dance. A few times, he passed a group of soldiers dressed in what looked like armor fashioned to resemble a dragon, correctly guessing they were indeed the dragoons.

  Tiberius paid none of these sights any mind as he marched towards the tower. As a child, he had often snuck out of his father's house and wandered the streets indulging in all there was for a young person to see and do. He knew at a young age that despite the most excellent education in the world, there was no substitute for seeing and doing things in the world yourself. There was only so much reading and studying about culture and art and war before you had to experience it yourself. Experience, in his opinion, was the best teacher in the world. And he’d had more experience in life than he cared to share.

  But age and duty and war had hardened something inside of him, and though he still yearned for peace and love, all childhood wonderment was gone. This realization made him sad that a part of him was dead and buried. But the resolve he felt to ensuring other children would never have to suffer
or die quieted his melancholy. In his mind, as in the minds of all servants of the empire, it is better to suffer so that others may always remain shielded from the evil that lurked in the world.

  To Michael, the whole city seemed to be alive and spinning with excitement. It was almost overwhelming to the son of a fisherman from White Fyre. His only exposure to music and entertainment as a boy had been King White's royal orchestra playing for the burial of knights and members of the royal family. But here, in the city that seemed to be alive itself, his mind raced with excitement. Never in his entire life did he ever conceive of seeing all there was to see in the Imperial City. If he survived his impending gathering with the emperor and the High Sorcerer, he would have to devote more time to this city.

  "This city seems so eclectic and random, Master Ranger," Michael said, trying and failing to keep up with Tiberius's step.

  Tiberius nodded in agreement. "Indeed, it is," he replied, "The city has been free and open to all the empire's citizens for some five hundred years. Seeing as the empire has no inherent culture of its own, the people have brought their culture with them. Especially now."

  "Why, especially now?" Michael asked, shouting over the banging of drums and the blowing of horns.

  "The city is rejoicing the end of the war," the Ranger replied, sidestepping a group of dancers. "We had not the mind to celebrate a year ago. We were all just glad to be home and done with war."

  "I hope someday to see all there is in this city," Michael said, observing the dancing and drinking that seemed to permeate every inch of the city.

  "You may, indeed, my friend. This city and the merriment within will last as long as our empire."

  But Michael still maintained his doubts. Whatever fate awaited him it would be a long time before he could indulge all there was to experience. The thought saddened him but knew the uncertainty before would have to be conquered first. He gave one last fleeting look around him, before turning to continue his hike to the looming spire.

  Chapter 7

  The Tower

  An hour later, as they arrived at the emperor's mansions gates, they were greeted by two members of the Imperial sentinels under the shadow of the Unity Spire. They were dressed all in a deep navy that was nearly black from a distance with cloaks that ended just below their knees. The hems of their cloaks were embroidered with white and grey. Like the Rangers, each man knew one another by heart without the need for adornment or ranks on their uniforms. In their gloved hands were eight-foot navy and grey spears and round navy shields.

  "Halt," called one of the sentinels as Tiberius and Michael approached. "State your business here."

  Standing taller and more proudly than Michael had ever seen his companion, Tiberius said, "I am Tiberius, Supreme Commander of the Imperial Rangers. This is Michael Deerborn, apprentice to the Magi. We have journeyed from the Kingdom of Childers with urgent news for His Majesty Emperor Axton."

  At this, the guards exchanged confused glances with one another. The ranger commander's presence was curious enough, but one accompanied by a mage was not something they had expected at all. The sentinel finally responded, "Forgive me, Commander Tiberius, but His Majesty is in assembly with the ten kings today and not to be disturbed."

  Tiberius took a step forward and raised his body with such confidence and authority he seemed to be towering over the guard. "Stand aside, boy! We have not fled from death and terror to be turned away from a child barely off his mother's teat! My business is of the gravest concern to not only the emperor but to the ten kings as well." His voice boomed with pure authority. "We will pass lest you are determined to doom all the citizens of our country!"

  His words hung heavy for a moment before the guards reluctantly accepted his request. They offered a curt nod, turned, and pushed the massive gates to the inner courtyard open. Tiberius motioned for Michael to join him as he swept past the guards without acknowledging their approval. The weight of Tiberius's authority was not lost on Michael. To command the Imperial sentinels to stand down without even a fight left Michael in awe. Not wanting to press his luck, he followed close behind Tiberius through the gate.

  The courtyard beyond was littered with people coming and going about their day. Like the spire the entire grounds of the mansion, a half square mile by his guess, were made of steel and glass. It was home not only to the Imperial family but to the Imperial University, Military College, and The Brotherhood of The Magi. When Michael had come to the Citadel, it had been under cover of night as is custom for its newest initiates. Standing here in the majesty all around him, Michael was even more eager to explore the mansion's grounds than the city. However, Tiberius's renewed pace towards the spire forced him on with barely a glance in any direction.

  They walked a few hundred feet to the grand wooden door at the spire's base where another set of guards were posted. But unlike the first two sentinels who impeded their entry, the guards at the spire let them through without comment. They passed through the heavy door and entered a vast atrium adorned with the banners of the empire against thick steel and glass windows. The atrium was littered with people working all around them.

  Mages and wizards were hunched over a nearby wooden desk, furiously debating scrolls written in ancient languages. Officers of the Imperial military stood over a black steel desk discussing intelligence reports from some far-off land. Knights of the various kingdoms were engaged in discussions over different battle tactics and regaling one another with their own heroic exploits in their homelands.

  Barely anyone in the atrium paid the pair any mind as they approached the grand spiral staircase in the middle of the room, save a lone single ranger. At the sight of his commander, the ranger leapt to his feet to greet them. He was younger than the men Michael had ridden with the past few days, but still had the dangerous eyes of a man who had fought and lived in the wild.

  "Commander Tiberius! I had not expected you in the capital today," the young Ranger declared, greeting his commander with nervous exuberance.

  Tiberius smiled at the young ranger, overjoyed at seeing one of his men. He hugged the young Ranger as was the custom in their order and said, "I had not expected to be here, Henry. We rode out from Childers a few nights ago on the direst of errands."

  Henry nodded his understanding. If Tiberius had not sent word of his arrival in the capital, it meant he did not want to risk anyone knowing their movements. That meant secrecy was of the utmost importance. "Yes, sir. I understand. Have you come alone, or are there more with you?"

  "The men are enjoying a much-needed three-day pass in the city before making movement back home. Since you were not with us and seeing as I'm here to receive any important news from the city, I suggest you join them," Tiberius said, a long, overdue smile on his face.

  At his commander's order, the young Ranger bowed and departed, as quick as his feet would carry him, to begin his unexpected holiday in the Imperial City. His first stop being the nearest tavern for an abundant amount of dark beer and fresh mutton.

  Tiberius sure is a dichotomy of a man, Michael thought. One minute he holds a stern military commander's presence, and the next greets his men like old friends. This was very uncommon behavior in the Magi and practically unheard of back home in White Fyre. Men in authority barked their orders, and the men under them obeyed unquestioningly.

  Time and experience had taught Tiberius to compartmentalize his actions and emotions. He had learned at a young age that not every person is the same, and no single approach is guaranteed to work. And through years of war, he had learned to control the violence and hate he felt in battle. He knew when to be authoritative and direct, and when to be warm and inviting. When surrounded by peace, he greeted the rangers as friends and companions instead of his subordinates.

  Tiberius and Michael continued up the stairs in the room until they reached a wide steel lift that would convey them to the top of the steel and glass spire. When Tiberius cranked a large lever in the corner, the machine sprang to life and
begun the ascent.

  "Now my young friend, a few words of advice," Tiberius said, turning to Michael. "When we reach the top, you do not say a word. I will introduce us to the assembly, but I will not use your last name. The surname ending in 'born' is widely known throughout the White Kingdom, and I do not wish for them to know where you hail from. Do you understand?"

  Michael nodded, his mind beginning to swim.

  "Next. I know what you have told me is truthful, but we will be presenting ourselves not only to the emperor and the High Sorcerer but to all ten kings of the empire. And while I know you to be an honest young man, you have not yet learned how to talk to stubborn, stupid men. Do you understand?"

  "Sir?" the Mage squeaked, turning to face the Ranger.

  "The ten kings gather for His Majesty only once a year, Michael. Some come to air their grievances, and some come to brag to their counterparts how much better their lands are than the others. Some come to seethe and brood. Either way, it would be best that you do not speak to any of them. Your business is not with them, but with the emperor and the High Sorcerer. Do you understand?"

  Michael could only nod in response. The hustle and bustle and excitement of the party in the city had quieted his sense of impending doom. Being here with his fate so close at hand, it was all he could do to keep his sparse breakfast from coming back.

  Tiberius noticed the look on Michael's young face. "You okay?" he asked.

  "No, sir. I'm really not. I know you are an honest and good man, but I'm truly dreading whatever fate I find at the top of this tower." A lump was beginning to grow in his throat.