by M. M. Whan
“In my years of experience, I have never had such a strong opinion of my trainees, nor the amount of faith that I have for their leadership.” He said as he placed his hand on Eferath’s shoulder. Eferath swallowed, the compliment from his instructor was unexpected as much as it was out of place. Thinking too far into it would get him nowhere, so he resigned himself to accept the uncharacteristic kindness at face value and leave it at that.
Bergen did little more than pre-congratulate the group on what he considered to be an already successful mission. Before long, he dismissed them to their preparations just as the sun crested the flat horizon. Eferath took a moment to admire the sky, and it occurred to him then, just how much he missed being at home with his family. He wondered how proud they would be of him, and especially his father. It had been nearly a year since he had seen his family last, but it wasn’t until that moment did he feel a yearning to be home.
The thought of their reaction when he returned wearing the crest of the Elite Crystal Guard on his chest made him smile. It was exciting that he would be recruited into the Guard, mostly because of the training he would receive. He would become everything he wanted, and more. He was glad for the opportunity, especially since Corbin, the self-glorifying prince who continually tried to make him seem low, or unworthy, was declined entry. Since then he had not heard anything from him or his companions. Corbin was also promoted to patrol leader of his group. Eferath had learned that months ago. The news came as no surprise to him; after all Corbin was a prince. Given what Eferath had so far witnessed of the young man, he wasn’t at all convinced the self-important prince could lead a pack of starving dogs, let alone free-thinking soldiers. He found himself worrying for the prince and his men.
Eferath stared into the brilliant sunrise and wondered.
* * * *
Several hours later, just before the patrols were due to depart, Bergen Swiftblade began heading for the meeting place. Just as he opened the door to his quarters, he was surprised to see Syline standing in the doorway. The old veteran froze in place. Whenever he saw Syline, it was never for a good reason.
“What do you want?” He growled, it mattered very little to him that this deceptively delicate woman could kill him effortlessly. Syline assumed a pensive posture, a look on her face that made it look as though his attitude had hurt her feelings.
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” She asked, changing her expression into a most pitiful pout.
Bergen snorted. “Friend? Last I checked, half-elf, friends do not threaten to kill each other!” He snapped as he belted on his sword.
“Friendly motivation.” She retorted without missing a beat, flashing him a disarming smile.
“Right,” he scoffed while shaking his head. It was pointless to continue the banter. “What do you want?” He asked again impatiently.
“Want? My dear Bergen, you act as if you have a choice with why I came here.” She said with a grin, that mischievous grin that made it almost impossible for the man to predict her.
“What a surprise!” He remarked dryly, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I should have known your ‘friendly visit’ was nothing more than a façade.” Syline laughed softly, brushing her hair from her face.
“Now you’re getting it!” She confirmed, taking a step into his room. Bergen’s hand reflexively reached for the hilt of his sword. Syline noticed the movement, and smiled.
“Relax Bergen, we wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” She said in a soft, and sweet voice but the old veteran noted the not-so-subtle threat in her voice. Rather than say anything else, the half-elf reached into the small bag that she carried with her. When she pulled out her hand, she held a trio of scrolls. Each scroll was capped with its own colour, green, red, and blue.
“What are these for?” Bergen asked her as she held them out for him to take.
“These are your patrol orders, they are colored for a specific reason.” Bergen opened each scroll in turn to inspect the orders written within.
“Make sure Eferath and Corbin get these ones.” She added a moment later, pointing to the scrolls with the blue colored cap, and the red colored one. Bergen looked at her coldly. He had already expressed that he no longer wished to be a part of their little coup.
“Having second thoughts, are we?” She asked, picking up on the distasteful expression the man was wearing. “You had better get your head straight!” She hissed at him, her eyes flashing fiercely.
“Do you forget the little chat we had?”
“I have forgotten nothing!” He shouted angrily, not even trying to hide his growing anger. He remembered well the conversation he had with Dorien and Syline. Or rather, the very real proposition of riches beyond his wildest dreams. Riches that, because of his family’s poor background, he thought he would never have. Dorien promised it all, and there was also the lingering threat that, if he refused to continue to help them, they could not suffer him to live in case he grew a conscience.
“Excellent,” she said after a moment. “Then we can expect you to fulfill your promises.” She turned away and headed for the door but stopped as soon as she heard Bergen sigh.
“They’re just kids!” He shouted, whether at her, or at himself, she could not tell. She turned to regard him, staring into his eyes and he noted the grim expression upon her face. Syline nodded, but said nothing, then walked out of the room.
With another sigh, Bergen looked down at the scrolls he was holding in his hands.
* * * *
Standing in the middle of the massive academy parade square were the patrols led by Edward, Eferath, and Corbin. The sun was bright on the angel stone pavement of the parade square. The glare was intense enough to make them all squint. They knew better than to break discipline to shield their eyes from the sun or even to wipe the sweat from their brow. The parade square was a hundred meters long and at least half that wide. It was surrounded on all sides by lush, green grass with flag poles installed sparingly around the perimeter of the square. Eferath recognized the flag of the academy, the Elite Crystal Guard, and the kingdom of Escoran which flew proudly high above the ground. Eferath never understood why they always had to face into the sun when on the Parade Square, but it was one question among many that he simply let go.
Eferath looked to his left to see Edward, who was at the foremost of his group of fifteen. His friend looked like a seasoned warrior all dressed in armour from head to toe, but he could tell he was nervous. They were all nervous, but Eferath was also excited. He had confidence that his group would perform very well during the exercise. He glanced to his right to see Corbin standing at attention with his eyes shut, his group of soldiers doing likewise. Trying to avoid getting blinded by the sun.
The sun, coupled with the reflective nature of the angel stone pavement, quickly made it almost impossible for them to remain in their rigid postures. Sweat trickled down Eferath’s forehead and stung his eyes, but he was determined to remain strong. He could hear everyone around him shifting uncomfortably as the heat became nearly unbearable.
Just as Eferath was afraid they would all pass out from the heat, three academy officers approached from the direction of the officer’s barracks. They were walking at normal stride, but to Eferath it seemed they were walking in slow motion.
“Congratulations, soldiers.” Dorien congratulated as soon as he was close enough. One of Corbin’s wizards chose that moment to break ranks and cast a spell of darkness high up into the sky, aimed for the sun. It was a commendable effort, except that it did little more than cast slight shade over the parade square. With a deferential nod to the officers, the wizard rejoined the ranks. When Eferath’s eyes adjusted to the absence of glare he was surprised to see Syline, Dorien, and his platoon commander Bergen standing in front of them.
“For you all to prove your fortitude by standing in the middle of a heat radiating parade square without moving, and without feinting, shows me that you all will do well out in the field.�
�� Dorien said, and Eferath tried hard not to laugh. It was undoubtedly one of the stupidest things he had ever heard.
“Today you are to embark on three different paths, on three different missions with three very different goals. Our scouts will be following and monitoring your movements, and they will report back to me. Deviate from your missions even in the smallest degree…” He trailed off, his gaze settling upon Eferath’s and he smiled.
“And you will be arrested, and tried for desertion.” Eferath frowned at that. Those were some serious consequences attached to what was supposed to be a graduation field training exercise. The young man had a nagging thought at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.
Before Dorien continued, the air beside the officers began to waver and distort. Eferath could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck as the distortion grew. With a sharp crack! the distortions disappeared, and the form of a man now stood in its midst.
By all appearances the newcomer looked like he was a wizard, but it did not take a scholar to make that distinction, though. The man looked old, possibly one of the oldest looking men Eferath had ever seen. His skin was drawn tight, and his eyes were sunken from too many years of intense magic training and spell casting. He was very thin and wiry, and was not gifted with height, but his stature did nothing to compliment his obvious prowess with the arcane arts. There was something odd about this particular spell caster, something elusive. Granted, he could not think of a single spell caster he had ever met that wasn’t the least bit eccentric one way or the other. But there was something strange about this particular one. His hawk-like appearances and his little, beady predator eyes did little to comfort his reservations.
“Ah, Lethaniel, glad you could make it.” Dorien greeted as the wizard moved close to them.
“This very talented wizard here,” Dorien continued, reaching out to clasp the older man on the shoulder. “Will be casting spells of aid on each of your groups. These incantations will allow you to walk farther, run faster, and have the stamina of a mountain giant!” Dorien smiled widely as he looked from soldier to soldier, trying to affect them all with his mirth. Pointedly, Eferath noticed, their eyes never met again.
Taking his cue, Lethaniel stepped forward to stand in front of Corbin’s patrol and he closed his eyes, falling deep within himself as he began to cast. The chanting went on for several minutes, and Eferath didn’t recognize any of the power words. One thing Eferath couldn’t understand was that he had never seen such a minor aid spell take so long to cast. He decided not to put too much thought into it, though, he figured it was just his anxiety clouding his thoughts.
After what seemed like a long time, Lethaniel moved on to Eferath’s group and repeated the process, and again on Edward’s group. When he finished, the wizard’s shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and he shuffled back to join the other officers. Another detail that seemed out of place to the perceptive young man. If this wizard were so accomplished, how could he attain such notoriety if casting such minor spells took so much out of him? This new development was considerably harder to ignore than anything so far, but he decided to file that information away until had had time to consider it later.
There was definitely something strange about the wizard, though, and Eferath found he could not take his eyes off of him. Almost as if the man noticed the stare, Lethaniel looked over, then winked, ever so subtly. That gesture, such an insignificant twitch sent cold shivers down the young man’s spine. Though the wizard looked away, Eferath could not tear his eyes away. A tight knot formed in his stomach as he stared, but he could not understand why. Before he could continue to figure out what exactly was bothering him so much, he was pulled from his thoughts as Dorien yanked hard on his uniform collar.
“Sergeant!” Dorien shouted right into the young man’s ear, and Eferath’s mind tuned back into his surroundings.
“Sir!” He replied stiffly.
“Get your head straight, sergeant!” Dorien barked. “Your men are counting on you to keep them safe out there!” Eferath accepted the berating for what it was; his thoughts were only ever about the safety of his men.
“Yes sir!” With the tongue lashing over with, Dorien stepped back to allow Bergen to approach.
“Here are your patrol orders,” Bergen explained as he handed Eferath a sealed scroll with a green cap. “Good luck to you, son.” He added quietly before pointedly handing the scroll to him with the cap hidden before moving on to Corbin.
When Bergen finished handing out the patrol orders, he rejoined the other officers.
“Now that you have your orders, your groups will proceed to the individual starting coordinates to begin your missions.” Dorien announced loudly to the patrols. “You will have three days to complete your mission and return back here. Kudos are not given out to whoever finishes first, gentlemen and ladies, only to those who complete their objectives fully. As soon as you are dismissed, you are to depart the city immediately, and make for your destinations.” He paused for a long moment to look at all those in attendance.
“Are there any questions?” When Dorien saw that there were none, he, Syline, and Lethaniel took their leave and left the parade square.
“Patrols!” Bergen shouted, his powerful voice carrying to the far corners of the square. “Dismissed!” He bellowed, using his diaphragm to project his voice more powerfully.
“And good luck.” He added quietly. Too quietly for it to be heard.
Chapter 8
EFERATH USED HIS HAND TO SIGNAL FOR HIS PATROL to split up to either side of the path and to get ready. Though his eyes betrayed his senses, he could not ignore the tightening sensation in his stomach. His instincts were telling him something was wrong, and he always relied on their guidance. His eyes settled upon a rather large area, bowl-shaped and surrounded on all sides by tall, thick trees. Eferath had halted his patrol at the threshold to a clearing, and upon looking at the open area, he knew there was something strange about it.
Eferath’s patrol reached their mission coordinates early into their second day, well ahead of schedule. So far, the exercise was completely uneventful, and the patrol orders did not include what kind of resistance, if any, they would encounter. Their only objective was to obtain a golden amulet hidden somewhere near the mission marker on the map. Despite the lack of any excitement, Eferath still remained cautious, ready for anything. According to the map that was included with his orders, their destination was just beyond the clearing.
Using nothing but his fingers, Eferath motioned for his pair of archers to spread out to the flanks. He trusted them completely to put themselves into advantageous positions and perform over watch over them all. To his other soldiers, he ordered them into a standard diamond formation. With weapons at the ready, they proceeded into the clearing. From what he could tell, the clearing wasn’t exceptionally large; no more than two score meters wide on all around. But as the patrol edged their way into the bowl-shaped clearing, Eferath finally noticed what was putting his instincts on their guard. For a forested area, it was quiet. Too quiet, he observed.
It was the silence that saved all of their lives.
Just as the patrol reached the centre of the clearing, a slight, muffled crack of a twig brought the group to the ready. A dull twang! sounded as both archers let fly into the tree line. All were surprised a moment later as a guttural, porcine squeal filled the air followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Suddenly, the tree line seemed to come alive as shrubs, dead tree trunks, and long grass began to move. It didn’t take long for Eferath and his group to identify the threat. They were fierce mountain orcs.
And there were a lot of them.
* * * *
Edward’s patrol took a break from their march at the mouth of a very narrow passageway through the mountain. The passageway was barely wide enough for three men to walk abreast, and its high walls made Edward think twice about taking that particular route. But, a
s luck would have it, their goal was located smack in the middle of that ugly looking ravine. He didn’t like the look of the place and his keen mind recognized that it would make for a perfect ambush point. He dispatched several scouts to check their surroundings, but none of them found a single thing out of place. There was only one path to their destination, and its location reeked of danger. As far as Edward was concerned, it did not matter if a new route were found that took them over their time limit, his only concern was the safety of his men, safety he could not guarantee if they must pass through the dangerous trench.
When at last the last scout returned to the patrol, it was made clear that there was simply no other way around and not so much as a field mouse stirred in the area.
“Is there something wrong sarge?” One of his men asked him. His name was Kelahi and he was a good sort.
Edward looked at the young man, then nodded in the direction of the ravine. “I do not like what I am looking at.” He answered simply. “There’s something off about this whole thing that I can’t figure out. Know what I mean?”
“Aye,” Kelahi replied, then he shrugged. “But what’s not to like? We just go in there, snatch what we came here to snatch, then hurry back to base for chow time.”
Edward was not convinced. Every instinct he had was screaming at him not to go in there and he was not one to ignore good advice. Seeing that his words didn’t have the desired effect, Kelahi continued.
“Look, sarge.” He said, crouching down beside Edward. “You sent scouts out to check the area, right? Right. None of them found anything. Not a thing! This exercise is a piece of cake, and I think we should just go for it and get it done. I see you shaking your head, but you know I’m right.”