by Adam Watson
Aiden started to seethe. How could a man in his fifties be so fit, so quick and so strong? He was actually toying with me. Aiden couldn’t believe it - toying with him! The thought made him so angry, not with Hammar, who had made him look like an inept fool, but with himself and his own lack of resolve.
He thought about his alternatives. Giving up and going back to the farm. How would he get anywhere in life if he just gave up? He knew that he couldn’t because that was exactly what his parents expected him to do - to quit when things got hard, and to go back to where things were all lovey-dovey, and they could look after him like he was still a little kid. Well, guess what old man? He didn’t need looking after. If he were home right now, his mother would probably have made him a nice warm bath and maybe put some pancakes on the kitchen table. No, he had to be strong. He wasn’t going to be lured home by warm water and some pancakes - even if they did have syrup on them! Why did they think he was going to fail? Why? Because they still thought that he was just a little kid. Aiden shook his head in disbelief, he was sixteen, but what really got his goat, what was really getting under his skin - was his brother.
He imagined going home in failure, and later Greegan coming home, reeking of riches and success. That's what he wants to do, Aiden thought. He wants all the glory for himself, and he wants to make me look like an inept fool who can’t do anything on his own. He slowly nodded his head to himself as he seethed in deep contemplation. You’re going to get yours brother.
Aiden knew he had to go back into the academy and he knew he had to face Hammar but was this just going to be a repeat of the last two visits? Was he going to wake up on the cobblestone path, where the only cobblestone jutting out in the entire street just happened to be the one that his face was laying upon? Was he going to wake up covered in dust and dog urine like he had last time? Now he smelt like the ocean because the only place he could afford to bathe in was the sea. You’ve got my money, Hammar!
Aiden thought about storming in there and giving Hammar a piece of his mind. He’s going to knock me out! He needed a plan, he needed vengeance. These people made me look like a fool. He needed to be smart about this, he needed to show them that he wasn’t a fool and he needed to get his money back.
And so, he sat there, across the road, staring at the academy, trying to unravel its secrets in his mind. He didn’t know what he was going to do yet, he didn’t know how he would get his back money or gain the respect he deserved - so he contemplated … and seethed.
***
The next day Aiden found himself sitting across the road of Hammar’s Battle Academy, watching from afar. He was hungry, and Hammar had his gold. What was he going to do now? Forget the money and walk away? No, he couldn't do that, ten gold was an extraordinarily large amount of money for Aiden. He had risked his life for that money, and now some fetid goatlover had taken it away from him. The more Aiden thought about it, the angrier he became, and once again he began to seethe.
There was no doubt about it, he had been blatantly exhorted and he just couldn't believe it. How could Hammar, a world-famous trainer, the leader of a world-famous academy, just take his money without giving him anything in return but a good beating?
Yes, at first, he thought it was just a test. Maybe Hammar wanted to see how dedicated he was, maybe he thought that Aiden would be put off by a good beating, but now Aiden had been beaten up twice and there was no sign of him getting his money back.
Aiden desperately wanted to go in there, confront Hammar and make him give back his money, but he was scared, scared the same thing was going to happen to him again. He was scared he would be beaten up and thrown out into the street. He didn't know if he could deal with that again, and what would he do after that? He'd be homeless and forced to scavenge like a mangy dog.
No, he had to go back in there, he to face his fears; he had to stand his ground and get his money back. Aiden took a deep breath and started crossing the road.
Even walking towards the academy made Aiden nervous, he felt sick and queasy in the stomach. Hammar had professional fighters to back him up, Aiden was on his own. He wiped his hands on his pants, his palms felt sweaty; the building seemed to loom before him. His legs felt weak and he had to force each step he took. Something inside him was screaming that this was madness, that it was suicide, but he kept walking anyway - he wasn’t leaving without his gold.
The closer he got, the more fearful he became. He knew he needed to get a hold of himself. Just be calm, just relax, he told himself. Surely he could go in there and talk it out without anything bad happening to him, but as much as he tried, calmness was lost. This is it, he thought, as he walked through the doors. Be strong Aiden, they are going to try to intimidate you.
The hall was alive with sounds. People were sparring, kicking and punching, whilst others trained with weapons. He slowly and methodically walked towards Hammar, and as he did, students slowly stopped what they were doing one by one and watched, by the time Aiden reached Hammar the hall was dead silent. Aiden looked around. Yes, they were all strong men, and yes, they were all giving him the death stare, but he knew what their game was. Intimidation.
"You're back!" stated Hammar, with genuine surprise. That’s right Hammar, you have to take me more seriously now.
"I am." There was a mixture of fear and excitement inside of Aiden.
"Well ... what do you want?" Aiden closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What kind of question was that? Wasn't it obvious - he wanted his fucking gold back. Even if this was all some kind of twisted game to see if Aiden would break, he wasn't sure that he even wanted to train here anymore - he didn't trust a single one of them.
"I want my gold back." Aiden tried to keep his voice calm, he didn't want to jeopardise his position by getting angry, but Hammar simply shrugged.
"What gold?" Aiden’s eyes lit up. What gold?! Are you fucking kidding me?!
"The ten gold I paid to train at this academy." Hammar looked at Aiden, then looked around the room at everybody staring and then shrugged his shoulders again.
"I've got no idea what you're talking about." Aiden took a step forward and the whole room tensed up. He looked around, he was outnumbered at least thirty to one, but they were all looking at him - he couldn't back down now.
"Stop the act and give me my fucking gold back, right now." Hammar smiled, if he felt threatened, he didn't show it.
"Or else what?" Aiden was so angry that he was shaking. He wanted to punch Hammar right in the face ... but that would probably result in a permanent maiming. He reeled his emotions in and tried to remain as calm as possible.
"Just give it back."
"Let me get this straight." Aiden watched on as Hammar used melodramatic hand gestures. "You're trying to tell me that you, a street urchin, came into this fine establishment and was actually able to pay the entrance fee of ten gold pieces?" Aiden nodded in agreement.
"That's right." Street urchin?
“Look at you, you’re dressed in rags, you’re dirty, and you smell. You’re living on the streets, aren’t you?” Aiden couldn’t argue with any of that. “And you expect me to believe that you had ten gold coins to give to me.” Aiden couldn’t believe the words coming out of Hammar’s mouth. Did he really forget that Aiden had come in here and paid money for his training?
“I had to kill a troll to get that money. I had to risk my life and almost died doing it.”
“Want do you want kid? A medal? Killing a troll ain’t that big of a deal here. Now go … go on get out of here, you’re starting to annoy me.”
“Well give me back my money then!” Aiden snarled.
“I don’t have your gold.”
“You do have it!” Aiden was about ready to knock Hammar’s block off, whether he got beaten to a pulp or not.
“Did anyone see me take his money?” asked Hammar, turning to the crowd. He was answered with a lot of murmurs of ‘no’. Aiden looked around, and he was seething. He wanted to kill everyone in that place. They�
��re all backing him up! There was nothing he could do. “Now go on, go. Get out of here whilst you can still walk.”
“I’m not going without my gold.” Hammar laughed.
“Well you do have balls, I’ll give you that. I’ll tell you what, if you really want your gold that badly, take it back … if you can.” Aiden stood still, the challenge had been issued, he looked around, and he had no doubt what would happen if he tried anything. “No?” asked Hammar. “Don’t want to take it back? … I didn’t think so.” Aiden shook with rage, he thought about what was happening and what had happened. He thought about his brother and how he had abandoned him, he thought about living on the streets again, he thought about the hunger and the cold - now he was losing everything all over again. “Oh, you’re not going to cry, are you?”
Aiden turned around and headed for the door, and as he walked towards it, the feelings he felt could only be likened to a walk of shame. People were laughing at him, telling him to ‘get out’, ‘keep walking’ and ‘to never come back’. He had lost face in front of everyone and once again looked like a fool. He had to show them he was stronger than this, he had to show them that they had underestimated him, he had to regain some sort of respect. When he reached the door, he turned around.
“Hey Hammar!” he yelled, causing the room to go silent again.
“What?”
“Challenge accepted!” Hammar turned to his chief trainer confused, the chief trainer just shrugged. Aiden had a mischievous look on his face, and an evil smile crept onto his face. “Challenge accepted! I will take my gold back!” Before Hammar could reply and before anyone else could say anything Aiden turned around and walked out the door.
As soon as the doors were shut, Aiden ran. He weaved through the streets and didn’t stop until he was far away and certain that no-one from the academy had followed him.
He was giggling madly, he had been scared half to death in the academy, with all those warriors around him, and he still didn’t have his gold, but he had achieved something - he had confronted Hammar.
He thought back to his final words ‘challenge accepted’ and smiled to himself. Oh, he hadn’t expected that, had he? Aiden doubted that Hammar felt any real fear of him, but Aiden liked to think he had put a seed of doubt in Hammar’s mind. He was hoping that it was just enough to make Hammar think that something might happen. Don’t sleep too soundly Hammar, I’m coming for you. All he needed now was a plan.
15. SISTERS OF SOLACE: TRACKING THE PREY
Solitaire walked around the rubble, looking this way and that. It was hard to make head or tail of anything in that mess, but she was sure that she was getting close to finding what she sought.
Yes, it was hard to believe that this scorched pile of ash and stone, this burnt-out husk, this charred ruin, was the remains of what had once been the mighty Temple of Tempus, but it was true. The Temple had been sacked and razed to the ground during the retaking by the Drakhar - whatever blasphemous influence it had, inveigled the city no more.
She tread lightly, leaving no footprints in the blackened ash. 'Lighter than Air' was a description that common folk often used when describing the Sisters of Solace. It wasn't true, of course, but it was true that she would never leave a footprint - that was a gift from Solace, and it was true for all the Sisters.
The last known place that anyone could reliably pinpoint the Oracle of Tempus was the on the High Seat in the Mediation Chamber of the Temple of Tempus. It was common knowledge that the Oracle would receive dignitaries and followers in that chamber every day and it was also known that she would have been doing this on the day of the attack. If Solitaire could find her tracks, she could begin the long journey of hunting her down.
She frowned, there was really no question as to whether or not she could find the tracks, in fact, she probably already had - they were probably glowing right in front of her, as she stood there staring at them.
The problem with the Mediation Chamber was that it was a bustling place, many people walked to and fro in there every day of the week, and now multiple tracks were covering the entire site.
The fact that it had been completely decimated did not bother her greatly, the tracks were still as clear as day - that was another gift from Solace. The only difference was that now they were in a jumbled mess, but even a jumbled mess told a story.
Volantia and Calista were with her, of course, as they always were, scouring the outer rim of the Temple. The mighty General Vuko Vlad had thought that he and she were alone when she had spoken to him, never realising that there were, in fact, three of them in his room, but that was part of the illusion.
Volantia, Calista and Solitaire were completely identical, like all full-grown Sisters of Solace were, and nobody in the world knew this except for the Sisters themselves and, of course, Solace. They were many, but they were one. It was a deception the Sisterhood had maintained for centuries.
Solitaire had been to the Temple of Tempus many times over her lifetime. It had been a grand place once, so beautiful, so tranquil and even though it was dedicated to another god, she was still sad to see it go.
She reconstructed the Temple in her mind from the debris spread around. Where she stood now, in the pile of rubble that had once been the Mediation Chamber, is where the High Seat should have been.
She looked around and frowned, something wasn’t making sense. The rubble didn’t lay the way it should have if the Temple had simply burnt down and crumbled. The dome is missing. That was odd and more than a little troubling. The dome hadn’t collapsed, it hadn’t burnt away, there was not enough ash or stone for that; it was just … gone.
She stared at what was left and briefly contemplated what it meant. The Temple wasn’t exactly small, in fact, it was one of the larger temples in the world. What kind of titanic force could rip off such a large piece of structure? And where did it go? It wasn’t anywhere in sight, which is what she would have expected - it was one more mystery to add to a book of many.
Now she had to think. If the Oracle was in here when the attacks began, what would have happened? It was known that the blue Oracle had not found her Torac yet so he would not have been there to protect her, but someone else would have been. Perhaps a guard or a captain, Solitaire was unsure, but she knew that someone would have been there to protect her.
Who it was didn’t really matter, but it stood to reason that the first place they would have taken her would have been the castle; it was well within walking distance and offered protection against attack or siege - except this time it didn’t. Still, Solitaire would have been very surprised if the original architects hadn't built in tunnels that connected the two.
Solitaire could imagine the chaos. It was known that the castle, far from offering the kind of protection that would have been expected, had in fact been completely overrun with the Drakhar’s ‘twisted’ or as the humans liked to call them ‘demons’ – humans had a way of demonising everything they didn’t understand.
Drakhar were not Drakhar in the eyes of a human – the Drakhar were Creed; part of a demonic society that was bred from the Hells. The twisted - they weren’t deformed and mutated Drakhar but undead demons; soldiers that had been slaughtered on the battlefield and brought back to life through dark magic - Solitaire knew better, the Drakhar and the humans were much more alike than they could ever be different.
The only way the Oracle could still be alive is if she somehow escaped the castle early on, but even if she had somehow escaped, there would only be a few options she could take.
Solitaire tried to envision the most likely course of events. There would have been chaos in the streets. That chaos may have started in the castle, but it had spread quickly. She thought it highly unlikely that the humans would have allowed the Oracle to travel alone and unguarded. Had the army taken her in? Had she even made it out of the city or was she still in it?
Right now, there were too many variables. At this point, Solitaire didn’t even know what the Oracle looked
like. She doubted that the Oracle would still be wearing her priestly robes and without them, she would be very difficult to recognise indeed. They needed to find something tangible, an item of some sort; something that they could be certain had been tied directly to the Oracle.
The West Gate. If the Oracle had made it out of the castle and into the chaos of the streets, she would have quickly realised that nowhere was safe. The quickest way out of the city would have been through the West Gate, so it stood to reason that it was the most likely place she would have headed - Solitaire was sure she was on the right track, no other scenario made sense.
As she looked down at the ground, thinking about the possibilities, she suddenly became aware that one of her Sisters was walking towards her; she didn’t need to see her to know, she could feel her, as she could feel all of the Sisters when they were close. Nevertheless, she looked up and confirmed what she had already known - it was indeed Volantia.
Volantia walked the same way all Sisters of Solace walked, both with a sense of elegance and a sense of danger. She wore the same armour that all Sisters wore: a maroon veiled hood, light-gauge, black body armour interwoven with the same maroon fabric, and dark, knee-high leather boots - all were intricately decorated and trimmed with gold, and all were of the highest quality. Over her shoulders flowed the unnaturally black cloak that all Sisters wore; fur-lined, it moved like an extension of their own bodies – it was a magical veil that could hide them in the shadows.
“Have you come to any conclusions yet Sister?” asked Volantia, as she approached Solitaire.