He ruffled Falcon’s charcoal-colored hair. “Yes. Don’t worry.”
Falcon shoved his anxiety aside. “I hope you’re fine, because your next opponent is your toughest one yet. He’s an earth wielder from Missea, and he’s undefeated, just like you. Of course, he won’t be after you’re done with him.”
“What have I told you about underestimating your opponents?”
“To not do it.”
Albert smiled. “It’s not as simple as don’t do it. Failing to be prepared for everything is asking for defeat.”
“Yes, yes, I get it, but hurry up. They’re waiting for you.”
Albert smiled as he turned and made his way back to the center of the arena.
Falcon’s hands trembled. He scanned the arena from the battlegrounds on the bottom to the circular stone arches that made up the walls on top. It looked as if the entire kingdom of Ladria had turned out for the event; no seat was without an owner. Yells, screams, and roars from the thousands of spectators filled the air.
The cheering abruptly ceased as Emperor Romus of Ladria strode into the royal booth. The short man had a generous-sized belly that could clearly be seen through the luxurious blue robe that went from his shoulders to his feet. The only trait preventing him from resembling a child more than a man was his long mustache. He took a seat along with the other emperors and empresses of Va’siel.
Albert gave the emperors a slight bow. He turned to his adversary and gave him a slight bow as well.
“I am Mathias Jiggoro,” grunted Albert’s opponent, not bothering to bow in return. “I hail from the great capital city of Missea. Today your winning streak comes to an end. I hope your people show you mercy when you lie crippled in defeat, for you shall have none from me.”
Albert grinned.
“We’ll see how tough you are when my brother beats you to the ground,” Falcon yelled, pumping his fists into the air. “I hope you like losing.”
Mathias showed no sign of emotion. His gaze remained locked to Albert’s as both wielders met at the center of the arena. They couldn’t be any more different. On one side was Albert. He stood about six feet tall and wore a simple green tunic. On the other side was Mathias. He had to be at least eight feet tall and well over three hundred pounds. He wore no tunic, opting to expose his muscular body. In his right hand he carried a gigantic mallet, and in his left, a circular steel shield.
“Ready for today’s main event?” yelled the short announcer. His voice echoed through the arena.
A resounding “yes” roared through the crowd.
The announcer nodded. “Planet Va’siel is home to many great wielders. Every year we invite the capital cities of the world to choose the three best warriors from their royal academies and send them to participate in the academy tournament.” The announcer took a breath. “We do this in hope of finding the strongest among us, and to engage in friendly competition. This year we have seen some great duels thus far, but alas, it has come down to these two warriors. The first competitor is the youngest person to ever win the tournament, and he has won it a record five consecutive years. People of Ladria, give it up for our very own Albert Hyaaaaatt!”
The crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers.
“You’re Ladria’s pride, Albert!”
“You can do it, Albert!”
“Show that Missea snob how we do it here in Ladria!”
“Albert, Albert, Albert!”
The announcer hushed the audience with a wave of his hand. “And his opponent comes to us from the capital city of Missea. Mathias!”
The entire coliseum went quiet.
“Warriors, are you ready?” Both fighters raised their weapons into the air. “Begin!”
Albert brought both his hands together and created two balls of wind. He flung them. They left a trail of dust as they rushed toward Albert’s opponent.
Mathias stomped his feet and an earth wall rose before him. The two air balls disintegrated as they slammed into the barrier.
Mathias’ brown earth emblem, which rested firmly on the dorsal part of his emblem glove, sparkled as he pushed his hands forward. The wall of rock, which until a moment ago had stood stationary, raced toward Albert.
Albert didn’t flinch as he shot thin wind gusts from his hands. The gusts created green ripples as they navigated through the air. They cut the wall into hundreds of thin slices. With loud thumps, the fragments crashed to the ground.
The glow of Albert’s light-green emblem intensified as he wielded wind to boost his speed. He zigzagged between earth attacks, closing the distance between him and his foe.
Mathias’ eyes bulged. He dug both hands into the ground and cut out a large chunk of rock. He grunted and cursed as sweat ran down his arms and torso. Falcon feared the rock might crush him. But a second later Mathias lifted the giant rock over his head. The crowd gasped. In one fell swoop Mathias threw the brown lump.
Albert unhinged his spear and ran it forward to meet the object. Falcon’s heart raced. A spear would not cause a dent in such a large object. However, when he saw the coating of green water-like energy around the spear, his worries dissolved.
The chunk of earth shattered into hundreds of pieces as the spear drove through it.
Falcon bit down on his lip. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in the air felt amiss.
Lightning!
Hundreds of rock shards that surrounded his brother shattered, releasing lightning bolts. Albert crashed into the stone wall. Had it not been for the layer of wind he had surrounded himself with, he would have been knocked unconscious or killed outright.
Falcon’s mouth fell open. How had I not sensed it before? Mathias was a dual wielder!
On his left glove he wore an earth emblem, but on the right, he had a lightning emblem. There was no mistaking the dark blue emblem with yellow lightning ripples in constant movement at its center.
Mathias stood rigid, his mouth gaping. With trembling lips he looked up at the Missean emperor.
Albert took a calm step forward, waving away the shield around him. He swayed his spear, sending an earth-shattering gust toward his opponent. The attack met its target. Despite his large size, Mathias flew into the coliseum wall. His impact left a spiderweb of cracks.
Albert moved above his opponent. Mathias swung his shield. Albert kicked it from his hands. He then pressed his spear down on Mathis’ neck, stopping inches before piercing flesh.
“Yield,” ordered Albert.
Mathias scanned his surroundings. A grin overtook his lips as his eyes settled on the mallet.
Albert pushed the spear deeper into Mathias’ neck. “Don’t even think about it.” A drop of blood trickled to the ground.
The crowd fell silent.
“I yield,” muttered Mathias, kicking and punching the ground. A screen of dust rose into the air.
When the dust settled, Albert still remained standing over Mathias. Except this time instead of extending his spear, he outstretched his hand to his fallen opponent. “Winning or losing doesn’t matter, my friend,” he said. “Learn from this loss, and allow it to make you better.”
The large wielder didn’t look up or take Albert’s hand. He simply rose and lumbered back to his corner.
The crowd roared to life. Falcon joined in their cheers.
“Albert, Albert, Albert!”
~ ~ ~
It wasn’t the best of training grounds, just a field of dead grass with scattered pine trees. The terrain was uneven and dozens of squirrels scurried over the grounds, but it served its purpose. The sun was now close to descending behind the large green mountains of Ladria. Falcon was determined to make the most of the last few minutes of light.
Falcon met his brother’s gaze as he brought his sword up. Despite the fact that Albert was seventeen years old and Falcon only twelve, they shared many similarities. They both had the same slender nose, same light tan skin, and same curled eyelashes.
Falcon’s hands tingled with excitem
ent as he lunged for an attack. The sound of steel clashing filled the air as their swords met. “How are you so good with a sword?” he asked, trying to maintain his stance. “You don’t even like using them.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Albert, easily blocking another one of Falcon’s attacks. “Focus on the duel.” He threw his sword hard into a nearby tree. Leaves rained down, and the sword quivered as its sharp end dug firmly into the tree bark. He held out his hand and wind wielded his spear, which rested against the tree trunk, toward him. He held out the magnificent weapon. It stood over eleven feet in length.
Falcon scratched his head, pondering on the best way to get past such a long weapon. He had never been able to do it before, but today, with the memory of his mother, he knew he could do it. He grinned as he repeatedly swung his small sword.
Albert sidestepped all of the attacks with ease.
“Focus,” said Albert. “Your head is not in the fight.”
“Um…sorry.” Falcon resumed his barrage of attacks. Left, right, left, right, down, up. It made no difference; wherever he attacked, he found no opening.
“Stop!” ordered Albert, leaning his spear on the ancient tree. Falcon brought his hands down to his knees as he took in deep breaths of stale air. He was drenched in sweat. His aching body begged for rest. “Tell me, Falcon, what was going through your head? Don’t tell me it was the fight, because I know it wasn’t.”
He paused for a minute, lost in memories. “I was thinking about Mom and Dad. I don’t remember much about that time, and you never talk about it, but I do know they were killed on this day five years ago.”
“Why would you be thinking of them in the middle of a duel?”
“I can’t help it. I hear Mom’s scream as that…that monster Shal-Volcseck murdered her. I have to become stronger, and kill him for what he did to her, and….” Falcon’s expression hardened as he pressed his lips together.
To his surprise, Albert simply crouched beside him. “Shal-Volcseck, huh? Tell me, how do you plan to defeat the only known chaos wielder? How would you kill a man who has lived over ten thousand years and has defeated entire armies single-handedly?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, kicking the ground under him. “Even though most of the events of that night are a blur, Mom’s screams remain etched in my mind. I promised myself that night I would never again stand by as people I care about suffer, and that I would one day kill Volcseck. I intend to keep those promises.”
Albert sighed. “There is nothing wrong with using Mom as an inspiration to improve. But the way you’re doing it is not the right way. You accomplish more sometimes by doing less.”
Falcon scratched his head. “Huh?”
“Stop and listen, there is no need to be in a rush.” His brother’s voice lowered to a whisper. “Your energy is not a lifeless thing. Listen to it and it will tell you what it wants.”
This was not the first time his brother had told him to slow down during a fight. Not the first time he had ordered him to stop rushing mindlessly during a duel. Falcon couldn’t help it, though. Once a fight began, his blood boiled with excitement, and he gave in to the heat of the battle.
“Fighting in a delirious state will only serve to—” Albert’s words hung in the air. His attention focused on the distant horizon.
A large silhouette moved through the shadows. Moments later a chubby blue-robed man atop a horse emerged. His garment had a golden collar and two stripes of the same color running from top to bottom. Grasped tightly between his hands was a scroll.
“I am looking for one Albert Hyatt,” said the man, stopping his white horse directly in front of them.
“I’m Albert.”
“I come with a message from the Ladria high council.”
Albert heaved a deep sigh. “If this is about a celebration for my victory earlier today, please tell the high council that I greatly appreciate their offer, but I cannot attend.”
Falcon didn’t find his brother’s answer surprising. Albert didn’t enjoy socializing with people who only wanted to be near him because of his accomplishments.
“This has nothing to do with your victory today, Mr. Hyatt,” the messenger shot back. “What the council wants with you is far more important than a mere tournament duel.”
Albert raked his hand through his hair. “Could you please stop speaking in riddles and tell me what they want?”
“Take the scroll, Mr. Hyatt. It will explain everything.”
Albert accepted the scroll. “Thank you.” The messenger bowed and retreated back into the darkness. Albert untied the glossy blue ribbon that kept the scroll in place and unrolled the parchment.
“What do they want?” asked Falcon, jumping around his brother. “I bet they want you for a special mission. Or…or…um, they want to offer you a position as a member of the royal wielders. Yes, I’m sure that’s it. It’s about time, you’re better than any of the wielders they have now.”
“Relax, Falcon.”
“Can I see what it says? I’m right, aren’t I?”
Albert took a seat besides a large pine tree. Falcon looked over Albert’s shoulder, eager to read the scroll’s contents. It read:
To One Albert Hyatt,
You are ordered to appear
before the honorable high council of Ladria.
Falcon shot a puzzled look at his brother.
Albert shrugged.
“Didn’t that messenger say the scroll would explain everything?” said Falcon, trying his best to imitate the high-pitched voice of the messenger. “This sure doesn’t explain much.”
Albert gathered a stack of swords. “I suppose I’d better go see what they want. I’ll drop you off at home first.”
“Why? Let me go with you, please.”
“No. Just help me pick up the weapons.”
Falcon let out a disappointed sigh as he gathered the remaining swords, daggers, and staffs. He then followed his brother down the dirt path. Usually Albert would talk the entire way home, but not this time. Despite his calm demeanor, Falcon was certain the message had rattled Albert. Could there be something he knows that I don’t? He didn’t ask. His brother was the strongest person he knew. Whatever was going on, he was sure he could handle it.
After a few minutes, they arrived at their home, a run-down wooden cabin with a chimney that hadn’t worked in ages. The door handle dangled, and the walls were full of termite holes.
Albert opened the door. “Go inside and don’t leave. I will be back shortly.” Falcon wrapped Albert in a hug. Despite the cold weather, his brother’s body radiated warmth. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone for long.”
Falcon rushed into the cabin. The floor squeaked loudly as he ran to the window. He caught a glimpse of his brother as he disappeared into the thick fog. An eerie sensation drifted in the air, and his skin goosebumped in a thousand places. His head told him something was wrong. He quickly dismissed the thought, convinced his riled imagination was toying with him.
~ ~ ~
Albert strode into the nearly empty grand hall where the five council members sat. The men relaxed on cushioned throne-like chairs high up in an arc.
“Welcome, Mr. Hyatt,” greeted an old man who sat at the center. “I am the head of the Ladria council, Councilman Masters.”
“Greetings, Councilmen. How may I be of service?” asked Albert, doing his best to not breathe in the thick aroma of lavender incense.
“We have summoned you because we have an issue of grave importance to discuss with you, something that may change the fate of Ladria, as well as Planet Va’siel, forever.” The councilman flashed a crooked smile. “You must promise not to divulge this to anyone.”
Albert cleared his throat. “I won’t, sir.”
Councilman Masters smiled as he rubbed his white goatee. “Good, good.” He placed his hand on the council member beside him. “Councilman Rohan, if you please.”
“We’ve been observing you for quite some time
now, Mr. Albert Hyatt,” began Councilman Rohan. He was a short man with countless scars etched across his face. “Grand champion of the royal tournaments since you were twelve years of age, owner of all the trial, tactics, and strategy records at the royal academy, undefeated in battle, with the highest academic grades, and not once injured in a duel. Only the legendary Golden Wielder can match those feats.”
Albert grimaced. Did they really summon me for a pat on the back? “I’m sorry, Councilmen, but what is the point of this meeting?”
Councilman Masters rose from his seat. “The purpose, Mr. Hyatt, is that you’re the kind of person we need to put our plan into action. A plan that will benefit Ladria for centuries to come.” He licked his dry lips. “You want to do what is best for Ladria, don’t you?”
Albert’s skin crawled as his eyes and Councilman Masters’ met. “Of course.”
“Then listen well, tomorrow….”
Albert stared at the dark patterned floor, not wanting to believe what the councilman was telling him.
“What say you?” barked Councilman Masters.
Albert remained quiet. His chest tightened as he realized what needed to be done.
The old council member leaned forward in his chair, his frail frame shaking. He ground his large yellow teeth. “What say you…Aaaargh.”
Albert’s spear drove through Masters’ chest.
The remaining men gasped as they attempted to get off their chairs. A gust of wind blew the four men into the wall and pinned them in place. Their mouths opened, but no sound came out. The strong wind made it impossible for them to even breathe.
Albert pulled out his spear from Councilman Masters’ chest and turned his attention to his remaining targets. One by one, he rammed his spear through their hearts.
Albert sighed. Good, no witnesses.
The councilmen’s lifeless bodies lay atop each other in a mangled heap, surrounded by a pool of blood, as Albert calmly strolled out of the chambers.
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Legacy Of The Golden Wielder: A Novella Prequel to the Void Wielder Trilogy Page 14