“Good,” said Vanderain. “For now, I must prepare the way to temporarily block their demon magic.”
“Temporary?” He asked.
“Yes. Even when I had the most powerful of Dread Lords’ captive for questioning, I couldn’t block their demon magic forever.”
Tarensen grunted, somewhat satisfied. He hated that it’d come to this, but father might be right. Neither Evan nor Brooke seemed likely to use their powers to cause chaos and destruction. But what if they can’t control it?
“The Dark-Venators,” said Taretta, changing the subject to alleviate the tension, he suspected. “They’re growing stronger, bolder. It’s all related isn’t it?”
Vanderain nodded solemnly.
“They’re getting out of control,” Taretta continued. “They attacked a college on Earth, targeting the Moonlight Races.”
“And our own,” Tarensen said. “Amy and Silas, two Venators who only completed their training here two years ago were stationed at this college. Amy managed to escape, barely. But Silas fell, murdered along with several other supernatural students. This was a heinous attack!”
“Poor Silas is our third casualty out in the field this year,” Taretta said, her expression tortured.
“War is coming with Velkarath,” Vanderain murmured.
Tarensen wanted to scream at him. He knew it wasn’t his father’s fault, but neither did he seem to be doing anything to help. “We’ve been at war with them for the past century,” he spat.
“A cold war,” Vanderain said. “All the Realmer strongholds know of Velkarath but not where it’s hidden, just as Velkarath can’t find us. Yes, every so often they disrupt our missions, or our Realmers successfully track down theirs and put a stop to the chaos they cause. But I’m talking about all-out war, where each battle will have countless casualties. The Rakarn have been disrupting more of our missions, and been enacting more of their own nefarious plots than ever before. They’re getting stronger.”
“Then we should put an end to it, once and for all,” Tarensen demanded. “Put out the word to all the realms that we’ll meet Velkarath’s forces on the battlefield.”
“And kill thousands of our own?” Vanderain replied.
“But we will win,” Tarensen said urgently, “and then we’ll never have to worry about Velkarath again.”
“Aye, we could win. But be a much weakened force against the demons and all other evils in the realms, too weak to put up a fight if a demon horde attacks. Many Dread Lords would hear of this proposed battle and use that to strike us down. No, I know the best solution to this, and it’s one I’ve already done. Every decade for a hundred years I’ve challenged Akirandon to a one on one fight. You know this. If I destroy her, Velkarath would eventually crumble. The Dread Lords and demons in league with Velkarath won’t follow anyone else. And the Masters at Velkarath would splinter off.”
“Yes, and each time you’ve challenged her, putting word out across the realms, she has ignored you,” said Tarensen. “She is as cowardly as her Rakarn.”
“And that is the other problem,” Taretta jumped in. “Yes, many Dark-Venators are incredibly cruel, vicious or ruthlessly ambitious. But some Rakarn are prisoners, forced to do bad things, or else children who never knew anything else. In all-out war, our Venators would be killing the Rakarn who are just doing what they’re told, as well as the ones beyond hope.”
“So, what is the answer?” He threw up his hands.
“I continue searching for Akirandon. She and I shall meet on the battlefield soon,” said Vanderain. “and one of us shall be slain.”
“That’ll be hard,” Tarensen grunted. “Considering Akirandon and the other disciples have hidden from you since their precious god was destroyed. Except Kalkavan, but I bet he’s terrified of you after your duel. He’s lucky to be alive.”
“They only hide because they know father will kill them all.” Taretta said.
Vanderain sat down wearily. “I’m not as strong as you think. If a small number of Disciples joined forces they could take me down.”
Tarensen barked out a laugh. “As if the Disciples could be allies without stabbing each other in the back. We’re lucky they’re all plotters, or too insane to cause as much damage as they could.”
“You shouldn’t take them lightly,” Vanderain said. “Kalkavan in particular is an immense threat. He’s more cunning than all of them, I believe he played Adena and Akirandon against one another and had a hand as to why they both produced demon-spawn.”
“Speaking of,” Tarensen said. “If you cannot block Evan and Brooke’s power for sure, you must consider my option.”
Vanderain closed his eyes, his expression exhausted and pained. “If they cannot be blocked, I will come up with another solution, maybe as far as imprisonment, if there’s no other way. But I will not harm them and nor will you.”
Tarensen nodded. “I wouldn’t disobey you.”
“And that brings me to our final matter,” Vanderain said. “I don’t know where they are, or how we can find them, but I know where we can start.”
“Start what?” Taretta asked.
“Locating the other demon-spawn.”
Chapter 9- Magic or Madness
The walls were closing in, crushing.
Screaming, hysterical cries. She thought they came from somewhere else, but it was from her own mouth. The bright white light. It was too much.
Taija rocked back and forth where she sat, staring wildly all about her. She was always staring, but with nothing to see. Only four white walls.
The walls were coming closer.
Trapped.
She was scared, she was alone, she was mad. How could she be mad if she knew that she was? The doctors told her that she wasn’t, but she knew they were lying. There was something wrong, dreadfully wrong with her.
Lank, red-brown hair fell over her face. She must’ve ripped out chunks, because lonely strands of hair lay around the room. Remember yesterday, try to remember. They’d brought a mirror then, shown Taija her face. Maybe they wanted to show her the fine fingernail cuts that littered her cheeks. Maybe they thought it would make her remember.
All she knew was her name. No, now I know I have grey eyes, too. The mirror showed that, as well as a gaunt, dirty face. That face had been a bronze mask of fear and fury. My face.
The white light was too bright.
Hands bound, body taut, she jerked violently in the jacket that held her.
Taija stumbled to her feet, running from the padded walls to the steel door, the only escape. It was locked as always. She screamed again, louder and louder. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks as she sagged against the steel door.
She wished her hands were free. She wished the door was unlocked. She wished she had never been taken here.
Taija couldn’t remember.
She wished she could; oh, how she wished she could remember why.
Faintly, in dreams, in those moments between sleeping and waking, she had glimpses of fleeting memories. There’d been violent earthquakes, horrible pain in her head, and terrible roaring fires. Were they real memories, or imagined?
She felt things. Things inside her, surges of energy, a terrible pressure against her skull. Was it real?
The door suddenly opened and she scrambled away with another shriek.
A tall, bespectacled man entered. He wore a white coat and carried a clipboard.
“It’s okay, Taija, it’s Doctor Toom. Do you remember?”
Taija shook her head, whimpering.
Why can’t I remember?
Dr Toom continued to talk, but Taija shut her eyes tight. His words meant nothing.
“Magic,” she croaked as her eyes flew open.
“What’s that, dear?” The doctor broke his monotonous ramblings to look at her sharply.
“It’s sorcery that I do,” she rasped, her throat aching from the screaming.
Dr. Toom tittered, shaking his head disapprovingly.
“De
ar, dear, we’ve been through this.”
He bent down toward her, pulling a syringe from his coat pocket.
“This sorcery you say you have, it’s just a symptom of your insanity.”
The doctor stabbed her neck with the needle. Taija jerked away, growling like an animal. She tried to stand, to attack. She screamed as she thrashed wildly, the restraints cutting into her flesh.
Before Taija could cry out again, darkness took hold and she entered unconsciousness.
PART TWO
Maligned Mentors
‘The ban upon you and all other vampires from Veneseron Fortress will be lifted when you can promise your kin will stop feeding on the trainees when they sleep.’
--A passage taken from the letter Master Parrygrass sent to King Richard the 3rd in 1484.
Chapter 10- Brawl in the Behemoth
It was a week after Kurrlan’s invasion and most things had returned to normal, well, normal by Veneseron standards. It felt like Veneseron before Evan knew demons were hunting him, when he’d first fallen in love with this world. The training was exhausting but exhilarating, and he always got to hang out with his friends in-between and after classes.
But Evan still noticed odd looks thrown his way. A few people muttered to each other when he passed them and he thought one Novice had even pinched him in the corridor. Evan had been on his way to Illusion training, wading through a passageway packed with Venators, when he felt a sharp pinprick on his arm. He looked to see what it was, but merely saw a Novice’s retreating back. With all the chaos that usually happened around the Fortress Evan hoped his fellow Realmers would find a new gossip subject soon enough.
Fortunately, it was easy to get distracted in Veneseron and many of the Venators were busy discussing the latest missions. Several Mid-Realmers arrived back on the weekend from a mission where they’d managed to save a goblin realm from certain destruction. After that, gossip was all about the war the Mid-Realmers fought in.
Evan quickly became accustomed to the alterations between training as a Novice and as an Apprentice. The lessons were just as enjoyable as ever, except for Evan’s two newest instructors.
The Dreamwielding Master, Li-Azar, taught the Apprentices as if they were children who couldn’t possibly understand a word he said. They weren’t allowed to begin manipulating or entering their dreams yet; merely listen to Li-Azar’s endless lectures. Whereas Master Magoris was just plain rude. There was no change in their sessions with Magoris since the first one. They merely took notes from books, whilst Magoris watched his TV and stuffed his face with food.
At the end of the week, Evan also had his first training test. In place of their usual weaponry session, he arrived instead to find the vast courtyard full of robots in a zigzag pattern. Each robot was human-sized and held a laser gun.
“Don’t worry,” said Urkzal, “the robots can’t move, but they will fire at anyone who approaches them. Your test is to pass through the courtyard, without getting hit by a single laser blast.”
“But there’s like twenty robots there,” Xavier cried.
“You’ll be taking the obstacle course in teams,” Urkzal said. “and the test will be different for each classification. Separate into your magic types, please.”
As it was compulsory to wear their badges on testing day, it was easy for Evan, Jed and Zeke to gather with the other Caustic Apprentices.
“On missions,” Urkzal continued. “Phantoms are likely to be given missions where they must sneak, trick or steal. Serenes often heal or shield others from harm, and Caustics are those sent to attack and destroy. Your tests will reflect that.”
Evan understood what Urkzal meant as the test began. The Serenes faced the robots first, following Urkzal’s instruction to create shields of energy around themselves as they moved across the courtyard, repelling the lasers the robots fired.
About half of the Serenes made it through, the other half couldn’t conjure up shields strong enough to block the lasers. Their armour smoked where the bullets hit, but they weren’t harmed.
Next up were the Phantoms, who had to sneak between the robots using illusion to camouflage themselves or to distract the machines. Many made it to the other side, but others failed to escape detection and got shot.
Finally, it was the Caustics turn.
“Destroy all the robots,” Urkzal simply commanded.
Evan and the other Caustics charged forward, launching their magical attacks and knocking the robots down. Evan fired off several fireballs, aiming for metallic faces and chests.
Zeke managed to make it to the end, but both he and Jed got shot only a few metres away from passing the courtyard.
“Glarqing hell,” Jed cursed as smoke spiralled around his helm.
Evan thought it was much like getting hit by a paintball, and wanted to repeat the obstacle course. But Urkzal proclaimed the lesson over then, and they’d have another test next week.
He was disappointed in failing, and he and Jed complained all the way to their final session of the day. In Archives, however, Gettelung had an announcement.
“Okay Apprentices,” said Gettelung as the class began. “Instead of looking at pictures of monsters, or staring at the few manageable ones in Creature Study, you’ll be seeing them first hand in the Badlands.”
“The Badlands?” Emi yelled. “We could die out there.”
“Those monsters could kill us,” said Seth.
“Or eat us,” Xavier added.
“You will be observing only, and from a safe distance aboard a Sandstrider,” said Gettelung.
“Ah, wicked, so it’s like a cruise,” said Jed.
“Or the zoo,” Evan chimed in.
“Indeed,” Gettelung said, “but the prime objective is for you to study the creatures, so you may stand a better chance of battling them if you encounter them on missions. This will be your first venture into the Badlands…”
Evan and Jed shared a grin. They and Sintian had sneaked into the Badlands not long after Evan first arrived. The consequences had almost been fatal, but as he’d survived, Evan now considered it a fond memory. Well, an unforgettable experience at least.
“… so absolutely no misbehaviour,” Gettelung continued. “This trip will take place next Tuesday, in lieu of your normal Creature Study lesson. All of you shall gather by the Badlands Gate. Understood?”
There were both excited and nervous murmurs, accompanied by the scraping of chairs as the Apprentices left the Archives, discussing the news. Evan just hoped this trip didn’t end with him almost being killed, like last time.
*
During lunch the next day, Jed was stuck in detention with Magoris again, whilst Emi and Elijah attended their theatre club, so he and Brooke headed to Ethanc’s together.
“So how's life as a Mid-Realmer?” Evan asked.
“I was just going to ask you about your training.” Brooke grinned.
They discussed their new classes until the dark elf waitress served their food. Evan’s plate was filled with an assortment of fairy fruits, dwarf donuts and what looked like a giant blue eyeball.
As they talked, he learned Brooke’s class were entering the Badlands too.
“I’m going with the other Mid-Realmers who haven’t experienced the Badlands yet,” she said.
“Awesome, I-”
Evan trailed off as Sintian entered the tower. Sintian took one look at them and his face flashed in excitement. Smiling, he turned and left again.
“What the?”
Brooke shook her head. “I'll never understand that boy.”
Evan wasn’t sure how he felt about Stray anymore. He hadn’t forgotten Sintian coming to his aid in the battle. But that might’ve been Sintian’s own lust to kill something, rather than wanting to help.
They tucked into their food, Evan leaving the giant eyeball untouched.
“So, how are you, you know… with things?” he asked tentatively
To his surprise, Brooke smirked. “You're trying to
ask me about Arantay aren't you? God, Evan, your social skills are so awkward.”
He chuckled. “Yeah I know.”
“Yeah, I'm okay, just a… schoolgirl crush, I reckon.”
Evan thought she might be downplaying her emotions, but he got the sense she didn’t really know how to talk about her feelings. He was the same way.
“How about you and that glarqing witch, Cera,” Brooke asked, her expression curdling. “I swear, if I ever see her again…Sorry, her betrayal must be hardest on you. How are you doing?”
Evan shrugged, not sure how to formulate his words. “I don’t hate her. I just don’t understand her choice. I know her father would’ve wanted her to take Kurrlan’s deal, but she still went along with it. She could’ve told the Masters at any time that her family were in league with Kurrlan. I think ultimately she just didn’t care how many others got hurt, as long as she had her sorcery. Vanderain says borrowed magic from a Dread Lord drives people insane, so I almost feel sorry for her.”
“Sounds like she deserves it,” Brooke grimaced. “So what, she didn’t have her own sorcery? That’s not worth putting all of Veneseron in danger.”
Evan nodded solemnly. “What about the, er…” He looked around to make sure no one was listening in, “our little demon thing?”
“Our pretty big demon thing I’d say,” Brooke replied. “If Cera, and others who’ve made deals with Dread Lords go insane from the magic, does that mean we will, too?”
“I…I don’t know,” Evan said, realising that was another fear to add on to his growing list. “Dread Lords can’t give away their demon sorcery. Me and you are the first to use demon magic, apparently. The Dread Lords just give normal sorcery. I think because it’s borrowed, the body rejects it over time. It’s unnatural to force a body to use sorcery when it’s not supposed to. At least that’s what Gettelung told us in class,” Evan finished.
“Makes sense. I have to admit I don’t always pay attention to Getty’s lectures. He talks a lot.” Brooke smiled. “I think things have died down enough since the invasion that we can tell the others.”
Moonlight War- Act I (The Realmers Book 2) Page 12