Mercury Mind (The Downfall Saga Book 1)

by Chris Mccready

  “If I was you,” said Caddaric, “I’d throw caution to the wind and try to end things quickly.”

  “Don’t you believe in me?” asked Donovan.

  “I believe that a trained warrior will win more often than not.”

  Donovan focused on his food and didn’t respond. Ravyn spent most of the meal giving Kort advice on how to empty his mind so that he can better focus his Gift. Kort didn’t take any of it seriously, and spent most of his time telling jokes to lighten the mood. When Caddaric finished his meal, he wished Donovan luck before heading off on his own.

  “What’s going on with him?” asked Kort.

  “I know,” said Ravyn. “First, he acts like he’s better than everybody else and only spends his time with the people who keep telling him that, and now he’s suddenly hanging out with us. What happened?”

  “I think he finally realized that we’re the only ones who’ve been straight with him,” said Kort.

  “I don’t care why he’s doing it,” said Donovan. “I’m happy that he’s smiling at us instead of sneering.”

  “One thing hasn’t changed,” said Ravyn.

  “What’s that?” asked Kort.

  “I’m going to show him who is tops in the class.”

  They all had a good laugh before heading off to class. Rather than heading off to the library as he usually did, Donovan headed up to their room. He removed his lute from its case and set it on the table. Pulling out a rag, he spent several minutes wiping down the leather on the case. Next he checked over the lute itself to make sure that it hadn’t been damaged. Finally satisfied, he started strumming on the lute to clear his mind. He’d done his best to act confident, but he was well aware that Professor Severn was a dangerous man. Losing the match would hurt his pride, but he feared that winning would end up costing a whole lot more.

  A half hour before the start of class, he put away the lute, wrapped himself in his cloak, and headed out to the courtyard. He headed over to inspect the rack of training weapons. Most of it was filled with the staffs they been using in class, but there were a few styles of swords, some daggers and even a couple of bows with blunted arrows.

  He debated for a moment making Severn choose his weapon first and then taking a bow for himself. He’d never used a bow before in, what he remembered of, his life, but how hard could it be to hit a target as broad as Severn. He discarded the idea because it lacked style. This showdown wasn’t about tricking Severn into making a bad choice. It was about letting Severn set the rules, then beating him at his own game.

  Donovan plucked a short sword off the rack and walked over to the middle of the courtyard. He began running through some of the simpler Vanoras to warm himself up before class started.

  Right on time, the rest of the class hurried outside to get a good vantage point for the spectacle that they were about to witness.

  Donovan ignored them and continued his slow movements.

  “You’ll have to move faster than that if you hope to defeat me,” barked Severn.

  Donovan continued what he was doing until Professor Severn called a start to class.

  “I have a special class lined up for you today,” he said. “Today I teach you about humility. Donovan’s lucky victory during our tournament caused his head to swell, and he challenged me to an exhibition. I, of course, accepted the exhibition so that I could provide a learning opportunity to each and every one of you. Today’s class is about knowing your limits and learning what happens when you try to exceed them. Do you have anything to say, Donovan?”

  Donovan walked up beside Severn before addressing the class. “Quite a lot actually, but you won’t want to hear most of it.” A few students in the back row snickered and Donovan waited for the noise to die down before continuing. “I proved myself to be the best in the class, so I would learn nothing by sparring with any of you.” This drew much more laughter. “Therefore, I sought out the only opponent available who could help me improve even more. This match is not about teaching anyone a lesson. This is about two closely matched warriors, elevating each other to perform at a higher level than they ever have before. Thank you.” He gave a quick bow, before taking a step backwards.

  Professor Severn turned around and leaned in close to whisper, “I was planning on embarrassing you today, but after that, I’m going to hurt you until you apologize for every cocky thing that you’ve done in your life.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense, sir,” whispered Donovan, “because I am the humblest person that I know.”

  “You will be when we’re done.”

  Professor Severn turned back to the class. “The rules are quite simple. You win by striking your opponent in the torso or the head.”

  “Like this,” said Donovan, prodding Severn in the back with his sword.

  Severn tried to ignore him and continued. “Strikes to any other parts of the body are allowed, but will not yield a victory.”

  Donovan did a quick series of feigns towards Severn’s arms and legs, but never actually touched him with the sword.

  “We will be squaring off with a staff, unless Donovan now fancies himself an expert with the sword.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It would take at least two afternoons of practice to match your skill with a sword. However, I believe that each of us should be allowed to select whatever weapon we want from the rack.”

  “There is just one other thing we need to do before we begin. We need a fair and impartial judge to score the winning blow in the match. Unless my opponent objects, I nominate Prince Caddaric to score the bout.”

  Caddaric walked forward to a series of cheers from his fellow students. He shook hands with both Severn and Donovan before turning to address the crowd.

  “You couldn’t have made a better choice,” said Caddaric. “I will be fair and just in my rulings.”

  “I only ask one thing,” said Donovan. “No matter what happens during the match, you stay out of our way and let us finish it in our own way.”

  “Fair enough. Competitors, choose your weapon.”

  The two of them walked over to the rack. Donovan put away the sword and began examining the staffs. He picked them up one at a time, checked their weights, and then put them back on the rack.

  “Quit stalling,” said Severn. “I’ll beat you no matter which one you pick.” He grabbed a staff at random and headed back to where Caddaric was standing. Donovan spent a few more seconds examining the weapons before selecting the smallest dagger, and joining the two of them.

  Caddaric had them stand a few paces apart and face each other. He raised his hand in the air and the students fell silent. “Begin!” he bellowed.

  The two of them slowly circled each other, neither closing the distance between them.

  “I didn’t think you were that dumb,” said Severn with a smirk.

  “It’s all about speed,” said Donovan. “While you’re lumbering around with that tree, I’ll dart in and slit your throat.”

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” said Severn.

  Severn raised his right arm slightly and advanced towards Donovan. As soon as Donovan saw the movement, he drew back his arm and with a flick of the wrist threw the dagger at Severn. It hit him squarely in the center of his chest and bounced back to land near Donovan’s feet. Donovan raised his arms in the air and turned to face the stunned crowd.

  Caddaric was about to declare Donovan the winner when Severn lashed out with his staff, hitting Donovan on the back of the leg, knocking him to his knees. Donovan barely stopped himself from toppling onto his face when Severn’s next blow struck him across the shoulder blades. He tensed up, back arched, but refused to fall onto his stomach. Severn continued to rain down blows until Donovan was prone on his stomach. Severn bent down beside him, and roughly flipped him onto his back.

  “I warned you about playing games and you didn’t listened,” said Severn. “Now I have to make an example out of you.”

  Donovan responded with a smile, despite the pain
from lying on his back. “Here’s a lesson for you,” said Donovan. “Always know your opponent.”

  Osmont’s Saturday classes had been spent indoors in an empty classroom for most of the winter teaching various unarmed combat techniques. With a well-practiced maneuver, Donovan grabbed Severn’s arm and pulled it across his body, knocking Severn off balance. He swung his right leg over Severn’s left arm and around the back of his head. He wrapped his other knee around his ankle. Applying pressure with his legs, he started cutting off the blood flow to Severn’s head.

  It took Severn a moment to realize what was happening, but when he did, he refused to go down without a fight. He managed to pick his staff up off the ground, and holding it in both hands, he brought it down awkwardly onto Donovan’s nose.

  Donovan nearly released the hold from the pain he was in. Blood started gushing as Severn ground the staff deeper into his broken nose.

  Grasping at the ground beside him, Donovan’s fingers closed around the discarded dagger. He began striking Severn repeatedly in the temple with the dagger, opening a large gash, coating both of them with his blood.

  Severn repositioned the staff onto Donovan’s neck and started pushing down with all his weight.

  The two of them were locked in a stalemate. Waiting to see who would pass out first.

  Severn must have realized that he was nearing unconsciousness because he released the staff and wrapped his hands around Donovan’s head. Flames erupted from his hands and the smell of burning flesh spread into the air. Donovan let out an involuntary scream of pain as he felt Severn’s hands burn their way into his face.

  With no other options available to him, Donovan concentrated on the choke, until the flames ceased and Severn collapsed on top of him.

  Caddaric helped roll Severn off of him, and Donovan rose to his feet. The other students recoiled upon seeing his gruesome visage, but Donovan wore his injuries with pride for the next several days until they healed themselves.

  Chapter 21

  Donovan received many different reactions over the next few days. Some students congratulated him for teaching Professor Severn a lesson, some called him crazy, but most moved away when he came near.

  Headmaster Marrok suspended Professor Severn from his post for what had transpired between him and Donovan. Donovan’s joy at the news was short lived as Osmont told him that he was being forced to take over instruction of the class. Osmont spent the next several minutes chewing Donovan out over his stupidity, but mostly over forcing Osmont to take over the class.

  Professor Severn had managed to teach Donovan a lesson. Sometimes the cost of victory is greater than that of defeat.

  After the excitement, things quickly fell back into a routine. As classes were winding down, the professors’ piled on more homework and the students struggled to keep up, while finding time to start studying for exams.

  All of the students in Professor Moncha’s class could now regularly start and put out simple fires, except for Donovan who still needed to be in physical contact with the object for it to work. While Donovan was still stuck playing with fires, the rest of the students had progressed to creating simple lights, and Donovan knew that it would be a struggle for him to even pass the course. It didn’t help that Ravyn could now create three separate lights at the same time, and change their colors and move them independently of each other. She was quick to remind everyone that she could do it by orbiting the lights around their heads when they were trying to study in their room.

  The final week of class finally came, much to everyone’s relief. Most of the professors took pity on their class and spent time reviewing what they’d covered throughout the year. Exams were all scheduled for the Monday of the following week, and everybody was both dreading the day, but excited that their freedom was in sight. Few of them had been confined to a classroom for so many months, and they were all looking forward to returning to their normal lives.

  On the final Friday of the year, they came outside for the final Martial training class of the year to find Osmont waiting for them.

  “Everybody gather in,” said Osmont. “I don’t want to scream.”

  The students clustered around him, casting glances around the courtyard to try and figure out what was happening.

  “Today’s class has been canceled.”

  The news was met with many smiles and joyous whoops. Osmont waited patiently until the class finally settled down again.

  “I can’t blame you for that at all. You’re all hoping that I’ll leave it at that and let you go do some last minute studying before your exams on Monday. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have something that you need to do during this time.” The smile on his face told them that he wasn’t disappointed in the least. “You will all be in this courtyard at eight o’ clock tomorrow morning.” A chorus of groans nearly drowned him out. “You will be dressed appropriately for this fine spring weather that we’re having, plus a change of clothing. Nothing else will be permitted. I’ll will see you all in the morning.” Osmont headed inside, leaving them alone on the damp courtyard.

  “What do you think that was about?” asked Kort.

  “He can’t do that,” said Ravyn. “I’ve got a whole day of studying scheduled for tomorrow. He can’t do something like that at the last minute. I’m going to go talk to him.” Ravyn went flying off after him.

  Everyone was either panicking about exams or excited about a surprise, except for Caddaric who stood there stoically for a moment before heading inside.

  “We’re going to learn nothing standing here,” said Donovan. “Let’s head inside to get our things together before supper.”

  Back in their room, Donovan tossed his cloak onto the bed and laid down on top of it.

  “They can’t make us do anything on Saturday, can they?” asked Kort, sitting down at the table. “It’s a day off, right?”

  “I think that they can do whatever they want,” said Donovan. “Besides, it could be something fun.”

  “I’ve yet to do anything fun which involved getting up early on a Saturday.”

  “Maybe we get a tour of the rest of Haven. I only saw a small part of it on my way back from the hospital, but it was pretty amazing.”

  “On a Saturday, right before our exams. You’ve got to be kidding me. Besides, why would we need a change of clothes?”

  Donovan got up and walked over to Kort’s bed. “Maybe they saw the mess in our rooms and are trying to get us to start cleaning things up ahead of time.” He picked up a handful of dirty shirts spread around the bed and tossed them at Kort.

  “Don’t worry about me. It’ll take me no time at all to get my stuff packed.” He tossed a dirty shirt back at Donovan.

  The dirty laundry fight continued until Ravyn entered the room several minutes later. After taking one look at the frustration on her face, both Kort and Donovan began bombarding her with clothes.

  “Cut it out,” she said. “Those should be burned.” She gingerly held a pair of Kort’s pants between two of her fingers and dropped them an arm’s length away.

  “What did Osmont have to say?” asked Donovan.

  “Nothing,” she said. “He repeated the instructions and said that he had no more to say.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” said Donovan.

  “It’s completely inexcusable,” she said. “If Headmaster Marrok was in his office, I would have given him a piece of my mind. This is an institution of education and Osmont is disrupting my learning.”

  Donovan and Kort tried to stay out of her way while they packed their clothes for the morning. After a quick supper and a few hours of studying, everyone went to bed so that they could face whatever Osmont had in store for them in the morning.

  At eight the next morning, Donovan and Kort hurried outside to find that they were the last two students to arrive. Headmaster Marrok and all of their professors were waiting for them to take their place with the other students.

  “Nice of you tw
o to join us,” said Osmont.

  “Is that everybody?” asked Marrok. Osmont gave him a nod before he continued. “I’m sure that many of you are wondering why you are out here on your final Saturday before exams, when you’d rather be stuck inside cramming information into your heads, which you’ll have already forgotten by this time next week. Well, the answer is simple. We do not want you doing that. Our main objective at Haven is to prepare all of our students for their lives once they leave Haven. It is only fitting that we do our best to test you in the same manner. Quite frankly, I don’t care what information you can recall for your exams on Monday. What I care about is which of your learnings you will be able to apply a year from now, or ten years from now.”

  “Does that mean that there are no exams?” asked Kort none too quietly.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Ravyn. “Of course there will be exams.”

  “But how can—”

  “If you let me finish, I’ll do my best to explain,” said Marrok. “We have a tradition at Haven. Each year we cancel the final week of classes and send all of the first year students into the forest on a camping trip, without any of their books or notes.” This drew many whispered comments, but when Marrok raised his hand, they died out. “This week off gives the students a chance to relax and rest away from the rigors of their classes, and allows us to see what knowledge has remained in your heads after a week away.”

  “There is some good news,” said Osmont with a wry smile. “This is normally a weeklong event, meaning you’d already be lost in the depths of the forest. As many of you may have heard, we have an influx of Clachwards in the area which is why we’re cutting the trip short.”

  “You can’t send us out there with them,” said Caddaric. “They kill people.”