Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1)

by Chris Mccready

  “Who’s in charge here?” he asked the group of archers.

  “No one,” said a grizzled man to his left. “The orders stopped coming a long time ago, so we dug in here to wait.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Iomar.”

  “Here’s the plan, Iomar. We’re pulling back to King Street and Claire. Do you know where that is?”

  “I do,” said Iomar, firing an arrow into the square. Caddaric didn’t even bother to look to see if it found its intended target.

  “On my signal, I want all the archers to go there and take up positions in the upper floors of the buildings on either side. The foot soldiers will try and delay the Sibt to buy you some time, but don’t dawdle. Can you manage that?”

  “I can,” he said, “but how will I know the signal?”

  “You won’t be able to miss it,” said Caddaric with an ominous grin.

  Caddaric slide his way between two carts into the square. Ignoring the fighting for the moment, he moved along the edge of the square to the next set of barricades. Repeating his instructions to the men there, he moved to the third set and did the same. Now that all of the archers had been given their instructions it was time to get the rest of the army’s attention. He knew that it would be impossible to travel throughout the square, spreading his instructions to each individual soldier and, even if he could do that, it would be difficult to disengage from the fighting without getting hacked to pieces.

  Standing in front of the barricades leading to the most direct route to their fallback point, he raised his arms in the air. He paused for a moment, gathering his strength, before dropping his arms to his sides. Four bolts of lightning fell from the cloudless sky and detonated the fountains, spraying debris all over the square. A moment later, a near deafening clap of thunder shook the square, threatening to knock people off their feet.

  Silence enveloped the square and people looked around, trying to determine what had happened.

  “Soldiers, to me!” bellowed Caddaric in an unnaturally loud voice that could be heard by the men in the castle.

  What the soldiers lacked in discipline, they made up for in blindly following orders given in commanding tones. The archers abandoned the barricades and fled at a run to the east. The Sibt soldiers hesitated for a moment too long, trying to piece together what had happened, allowing the defenders to disengage and form up around Caddaric.

  “Alright, men!” he yelled. “Form ranks behind the barricade.”

  They hurried to obey. They were organized behind the barricade by the time the first Sibt reached them, and they hacked the Sibt down as they tried to climb over. Caddaric allowed the men to remain here for only a few moments as many Sibt fell, but he knew that they would be moving through the side streets, attempting to flank them.

  “Fall back,” he said, and they began a measured retreat down the street.

  Caddaric singled out a couple of squads of soldiers. Quickly explaining the plan to them, he sent them running off to begin blocking the side streets near their destination.

  The Sibt continued to test them as they retreated, attempting to get them to engage, but Caddaric kept the men focused.

  At one point the Sibt force was so spread out and lacking any sort of cohesion that Caddaric was inclined to take advantage of the opportunity. Ordering a charge, his lines overwhelmed the individual Sibt spread in front of their main force. As soon as they met any real resistance, Caddaric ordered them to fall back again.

  This continued until they neared King Street and Claire. Glancing behind him, Caddaric tried to get a glimpse of the archers hiding in the adjacent buildings, but he couldn’t see anybody. This would be a colossal failure if the archers weren’t in position. As the streets broadened, their lines spread out to the point where they were barely two men deep.

  Crossing Claire, he ordered a halt. His men stood shoulder to shoulder, swords gripped firmly in their hands.

  The Sibt halted a short distance away, trying to determine what was going on, but Caddaric didn’t give them the opportunity. Seeing a small group of men who he assumed were officers, designated by blue cloths tied around their arms, clustered together having a discussion, he dropped a flaming ball of fire into their midst. This had the desired effect, and some of the Sibt began an undisciplined charge while others held their ground. They were ten feet away when a barrage of arrows fell into their ranks.

  Their line held as the Sibt crashed into them. The next barrage of arrows fell amongst the Sibt standing in the distance, which prompted them to engage as well.

  “Hold!” screamed Caddaric. “Just a few more moments.”

  The line miraculously held as the archers rained down death from above. Caddaric added his magic to the battle, taking down any Sibt who threatened to break through their lines.

  The street was quickly coated in blood, and the Sibt now had to climb over the bodies of their fallen to engage the defenders. They were doing an outstanding job, but it was evident to Caddaric that it wouldn’t be enough. Every time a defender fell, the entire line became weaker. Soon they wouldn’t have enough men to hold the entire width of the street. As soon as the Sibt managed to get around to their flanks, this battle would be over.

  Caddaric spared a glance over to the cathedral. He saw two flags hanging out of one of the windows, but had no idea what they were signaling. He prayed that the King would bring his cavalry into play soon. The wide, flat street was perfect for a charge. He even thought that the Sibt had been sufficiently weakened that their charge would pass right through their lines allowing them to trap the enemy between the two forces.

  Years of training had taught Caddaric to deal with the problem at hand and not wish for someone else to come along and solve it for him. He focused his attention back on the battle.

  A hole was opening up in their line and he hurried to plug it. Magic flashed from his hands clearing his enemies from the gap. Already tiring from using so much of his magic, he picked up a sword off the ground and joined in the fighting.

  Deep down, he knew that he was at best mediocre with a sword, so he was surprised by the grace in which he could wield it. It was almost as if he could anticipate his opponents moves before they made them, and with a savage grace he cut them down. Caught up in the middle of the fighting, he couldn’t tell how his forces were holding together, but he knew that things were becoming hopeless, when he felt the ground begin to rumble.

  His opponents looked up in terror, staring at something behind and above him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, he savagely waded into their numbers, felling them as he went. He knew that it was foolhardy to isolate himself like this, but he knew that the cavalry was coming, and the more chaos that he could create, the better.

  Cavalry swords held high, the King’s men plunged into the Sibt, hacking and trampling men as they passed. The Sibt were apparently unprepared for the sudden appearance of the cavalry and tried to break ranks and flee. The horsemen turned around after passing through the Sibt lines and began carving their way back towards their own forces.

  King Earh was easy to pick out amongst his men. A golden cape rippled behind him and he swung a heavy mace instead of a sword. Four of his guards remained at his sides at all times, preventing anyone from getting too close to him.

  With a renewed sense of hope and energy, Caddaric doubled his efforts until the remaining Sibt surrendered.

  Chapter 16

  It was a long wait in the hall. The professors took turns coming back to get the next student, but the students didn’t return. Donovan assumed that this was done so that they couldn’t spoil any surprises for the other students. Every time one of the professors came in, the room would fall silent and students hoped that their name would be called next, but they kept passing over Donovan. Doing some quick math, he knew that the last students would be stuck in here for several hours before their names were called.

  There was a buzz in the air when the process first started. Excited kids trying
to predict what was about to happen. As each name was called, the excitement dropped.

  Kort’s name was called early, and he dashed out of the room. Donovan and Ravyn discussed what they did on their winter breaks. Apparently Ravyn’s mother had gotten a copy of an old curriculum of what the first years were taught. She had spent weeks preparing various assignments and tests to see how Ravyn was doing in her classes. By the second day Ravyn wished that she had stayed at Haven. At least then she could study what she needed to, instead of following her mother’s rigid schedule.

  Ravyn was all worked up about all the areas that needed improving, and it took Donovan many minutes to convince her that she was clearly one of the top students in their year, and Caddaric had the advantage of being tutored from a young age. She had just started to calm down when Professor Cleary entered the hall and called her name, sending her into a new frenzy, but one that Cleary would have to deal with as they left the room.

  Then it was only him and Delaney at the table, and he knew better than trying to engage her in a conversation. Despite the months at Haven, he’d yet to hear her speak a single word. She was clearly intelligent and she received good marks on her written assignments but she refused to speak.

  He’d tried to win her trust many times, and while she was more comfortable sitting out in the open with the rest of them, they hadn’t figured out how to draw her into a conversation.

  Donovan flashed her a weary smile which she returned, before resting his head on the table and closing his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, for when he jerked himself awake again, he saw that there were only five other students left in the hall.

  He debated heading over to join Clyde, who looked miserable with no one to talk to. Caddaric must have said something to his cronies after their altercation because they were all acting nicer towards him, and in some cases they were becoming friends.

  Professor Moncha called Clyde’s name and he left the hall, leaving Donovan alone with his thoughts. He wished that they had warned the students about being stuck in a room for this long. Even doing homework was looking favorable to hours of boredom.

  Finally, after every other student had been taken, Donovan knew that his time was coming. He stood up and wandered over to the door, not wanting to delay things a moment longer than necessary. Listening at the door, he eventually heard footsteps coming his way. He took a few steps back and waited.

  Professor Cleary opened the door and loudly called “Donov—” before breaking off when he saw Donovan standing in front of him. “It’s your turn.”

  “Best for last, right?” said Donovan.

  “Let’s hope so,” said Cleary.

  They made their way to a storage room at the other end of the basement which had been cleared out. Opening the door, Cleary marshalled him inside, before closing the door behind them. A plain wooden table sat in the middle of the room, with four chairs around it.

  Professor Moncha made a mark on a piece of paper laying on the table, which he assumed was a list of all the students.

  “Ah, Donovan,” said Headmaster Marrok stepping forward. Taking Donovan’s arm, he led him over to the table. “Please lay down on the table and we’ll explain what’s about to happen.”

  Donovan hoisted himself onto the table and laid down. Professor Cleary picked up a small box which had been sitting on a chair on the far side of the table. He picked up a small, rough cut purple gem from the box, about the size of a walnut, and held it up in front of Donovan.

  “These stones have been imbued with magical properties,” said Cleary. “The glamour that we are going to be casting is stored within the stones. On their own, these are nothing more than simple gems, but in the hands of people who know how to use them, they will help us stabilize a complex glamour which we could not possibly control on our own.”

  “What’s a glamour?” asked Donovan, taking the gem from Cleary’s hand. Turning it over in his hands, he could find nothing special about it.

  “A glamour is a type of spell which deceives the mind,” said Moncha. “While an illusion can be seen by anybody, a glamour only affects the perception of the person on which it is cast. In this case, you.”

  “In this case,” said Cleary, “you will be put into a state of deep hypnosis as the glamour constructs a false environment in your mind. You will be able to interact with the environment in the same way you would the real world, but you will not have the same limitations. Since you will be living out a fantasy in your own mind, you’ll be capable of doing anything which your mind believes is possible. We’ve intentionally crafted the fantasy to reflect the real world to prevent students from having absurd flights of fancy, like being able to turn themselves into a dragon.”

  “What am I supposed to be doing in this fantasy world?” asked Donovan.

  “You should do whatever feels right to you,” said Marrok. “While we have included subtle clues regarding your main objective, it has been designed to provide you with a variety of decisions which will lead you down very different paths. What you should remember is that this test is designed to give us insight into who you are. The decisions that you make, or don’t make, give us an idea of how you will act once you’ve finished your studies here. In some cases students are not happy with what the test reveals to them, which causes them to rethink who they are, and make difficult choices about their futures.”

  “I’d be happy just to know my past,” said Donovan.

  “We’re ready to begin if you are,” said Cleary. Donovan gave a small nod, and handed the gem back to Cleary. “Alright, I want you to lie flat on your back and try to relax. Take a deep breath in through your nose, hold it for a moment, and then slowly release it through your mouth. Continue this until I tell you to stop.”

  Donovan did what he was told. After a few breaths, Cleary balanced a gem on his forehead. He continued to place a series of gems in a line along the middle of his body, one below the Adam’s apple, one on his sternum, and three along his stomach.

  The four of them surrounded the table and Donovan felt a strange sensation, like spider webs brushing against his skin, where the gems rested. The sensation spread and intensified. He continued his slow breathing for nearly a minute, and saw the four of them exchanging worried glances to each other. He released another slow breath and closed his eyes.

  ***

  Donovan opened his eyes. He stood looking out a window towards a castle. Men seemed to be marshalling behind the castle’s high walls. Looking down, he saw that he was high above the ground, two or possibly three stories off the ground.

  Turning around, he saw that he was in a small room with a large bell hanging in the center. Possibly a church, thought Donovan, before moving to another window. He found himself in a large city, surrounded by a broad river on two sides and a short wall on the others. Smoke hung in the air, originating from a section of burning buildings near the wall. Screams of pain and terror filled the air, and he could see some sort of a conflict in a large square near the center of the city.

  “Help me!” came a high pitched voice from below. A young boy was running down the street below the window. He was shoeless and dressed in rags.

  He watched the boy run past his position and shifted his view to the two men running after the boy. They had long black hair and muscular arms hanging out of dark vests. A blood red piece of fabric was tied around their right arm. They were clad in simple sandals and had scimitars attached at their waists.

  He watched the men run past towards the castle.

  Donovan examined his own clothing. He wore a coat with a lion embroidered on the chest. Flexing his arms, he found that the coat fit poorly, and there was a tightness in his right bicep. He wore simple, loose pants, tied around the waist with a piece of rope. He wore a pair of sandals on his feet, not unlike the ones worn by the men who just ran past the building. He didn’t have a weapon on his belt, but feeling under his coat in the small of his back, he found a few hard, slender objects. He removed the bundle to c
heck its contents before returning it behind his back.

  Donovan tried to figure out what he was supposed to do. Clearly the city was under attack, but why was he standing in this room away from the fighting if he was supposed to help defend the city. He thought back to the first image that he saw when he opened his eyes, that of the men gathering behind the castle walls. Why was he watching the castle instead of the invading army?

  He gave the city a more detailed scan, searching for anything out of the ordinary. He saw a figure silhouetted in an upper story window a few blocks away. He crouched down by the corner of the window and continued to watch the building. He thought that there were two people in the building watching the battle in the square.

  Turning his own attention to the square, he saw many figures scrambling around in an unorganized melee. He knew that he could have an impact on the battle, but needed more information first.

  He hurried outside and snuck over to the building with the two people on the upper floor. He thought that it looked like a religious building of some sort, but he paid little attention as he squeezed in through the main door.

  He quietly stalked through a large room with a high arched ceiling, filled with wooden benches, into a narrow hallway. He stopped to listen at each door along the way. Hearing nothing, he continued on until he found a set of stairs leading up. Climbing the stairs, he saw that the door at the top was ajar. He paused to listen, but could only hear some quiet shuffling.

  He slowly opened the door, until it let out a loud creak. Throwing caution to the wind, he swung it open and darted into the room. A man to his right drew a sword and pointed it towards him. He spun under the blade and grabbed his wrist. Twisting around, he flipped the man onto his back. A sharp twist of the man’s wrist made him release the sword which he caught and pointed at the second person in the room.