Riven (The Arinthian Line Book 2)

by Sever Bronny

  Thomas raised his palm and Sydo seemed to snap out of it. “At first, you will only be able to cast Centarro for a very short time. As you develop in skill, however, the duration will lengthen and the side-effects will shorten.”

  “That was incredible, yet … strange,” Sydo said, absently smoothing his hair. “Let me do it again.”

  “In due course, Sydo Ridian. Let us now learn the pronunciation and application of Centarro.”

  The group studied the rest of the morning, Thomas lecturing with examples. When one of them could not pronounce a word, he would say it aloud in their own voice back to them, over and over, until they got it. When he asked a question, he remained silent until one of them came up with a satisfactory answer.

  Augum understood that the spell would take tremendous practice, far more than the others he had learned. However, out of all the spells they did know, this one was by far the neatest. The creativity aspect alone was incredible—when Bridget took a run at the dummy, she faked slashing it with Blackbite, tossed the blade above the dummy’s head, and entangled its arms into a knot—all while its focus was still on the dagger. It was a feat he’d have pronounced impossible if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. As for his turn, he had sprinted forward, somersaulting over the dummy while grabbing its head, snapping its neck. Long after the effects wore off, he could hardly believe he had accomplished such a thing.

  Leera took the prize for creativity though. She performed a snake-like dance in which the dummy became distracted by her waving hands. She somehow hypnotized it to pay more attention to her left arm by waving it about a certain way. She then kicked out with her right foot—the dummy’s blind side—and used the momentum to rip out its arm, clubbing the dummy with it until it was still. Augum, Bridget and even Sydo clapped.

  As successful as they were with the spell, it was most amusing to watch someone trying to perform the same tricks after the effects had worn off. When Bridget tried, she tossed her dagger away and told the dummy to jump in a fire, before sitting down cross-legged, staring at it with a dull yet satisfied look on her face. Augum fared no better, running into the dummy head-on, almost skewering himself. Later he swore he had a plan but simply forgot it. Leera, on the other hand, ended up hypnotizing herself and getting all confused, somehow managing to kick and punch herself simultaneously. Even Mya, who happened to have been watching from the oaks, found that funny.

  “The practical applications are limitless,” Thomas explained after the group had a chance to see and try both the spell and its after-effects. “And not just for combat—the spell can be used in any situation needing focus and concentration, especially when one is completely out of ideas. But beware, for many have died using it, accomplishing an astounding feat only to be slaughtered when their wits slowed after. I therefore advise you plan for the side effects while under the influence of the spell.”

  Augum made a point of engraving that into his brain.

  Thomas continued lecturing, the group hanging onto his every word, though there were more than a few foggy looks exchanged when he delved into too much detail, or said things like, “Learn to use the parts of your mind within.” He would often leave them with practice tasks that involved tedious observation while he took a turn training Mya on herbs.

  By the end of that morning, although no one had yet successfully cast Centarro, they were at least able to pronounce it, and were so exhausted no one complained when they broke for lunch.

  Stories

  The tightly-packed clumps of cloud darkened as the group gathered for lunch at the earthen table. The winds had strengthened by then, bending the oak canopies and making the braziers flicker.

  Thomas, much like Mrs. Stone, arcanely set the table. Except, instead of popping things into existence out of thin air, he simply gestured to the trees. What appeared to be burgundy carrots and blue potatoes pulled themselves from the ground. Purple peaches and white pears flew in from who knew where, landing in rough wooden bowls. Augum wondered if Mrs. Stone could do that, or if it was another lost spell from eons ago.

  They peeled the carrots with Blackbite and skewered the potatoes over a brazier with sticks, discussing what they had learned that morning.

  “Mr. Stone,” Augum said near the end of the meal, “why did you go to Ley without Nana?” He couldn’t bring himself to address the Leyan as great-grandfather.

  Thomas observed him with a serene expression. “In the river of time, paths often diverge.”

  Augum scratched his head. Must the man always be so cryptic? Fine, might as well ask about Nana, since she’s not here.“Can you tell me a little bit about, um, your wife? How did she grow up? What made her, you know … her?”

  “The past is a mirage. The future is a haze. The difference is the moment.” Thomas glanced skyward. The tone of his voice softened. “I recall what it was like to be a father, a husband. I recall words we would exchange. ‘The children need feeding.’ ‘Fetch me some goat milk from the market.’ ‘I love you’. I recall stories people would tell, stories Anna would tell. Anna was born in a village named River’s End. Anna’s father was a most respected and wise warlock. Anna loved studying his spell books when he thought her studying the written word, or arithmetic. Anna was young, perhaps only ten when she cast her first spell.”

  They exchanged incredulous looks.

  “Ten?” Leera mouthed.

  “Your return reminds me of what it was like to be mortal. To speak that way. To … taste things. Feel things.” Those coal eyes settled on Augum. “Anna’s father possessed an ancient spell book, one that, combined with her great aptitude, allowed her to learn spells far beyond her capability. There were accidents, experiments, but Anna prevailed. Anna’s sister, Dradeya, who was older, became jealous of her talents and tormented her. Anna supposed Dradeya worried the scion would pass to Anna because of her talent.

  “At thirteen years of age, the Academy of Arcane Arts accepted Anna. She was the most advanced student in the academy’s history, though Anna hardly used her powers for personal gain. Unfortunately, at the end of Anna’s first year, her father, the most important person in her life, became sick from necrotic plague.”

  “I’ve heard of that plague,” Leera said. “My grandfather said his grandfather died from it. It was a plague made by a necromancer, wasn’t it?”

  “That it was, Leera Jones. Anna rushed to see her dying father. It was then that he bestowed her with the family scion before passing away.”

  “How did her sister react?” Augum asked.

  “Dradeya did not take it well. She demanded the scion, calling it rightfully hers.”

  “That’s what my father says about the scion. He calls it rightfully his too.”

  “So what happened next?” Leera asked.

  “There was a duel, Leera Jones. Anna bested her older sister, but tried doing it without causing harm. Yet Dradeya’s ego would not let her yield. She kept attacking, until Anna unintentionally used the scion for the first time and slew her sister.”

  “How awful …” Bridget mumbled.

  “That is her version,” Prince Sydo muttered.

  The trio gave him a hard look.

  Sydo straightened. “I mean, I am sure she had no other choice.”

  “Imagine attending the academy after that,” Augum said. Imagine being burdened with the scion at that age. Imagine killing your own sister …

  “She did in fact attend, though it was a very difficult time for her.”

  Augum was amazed he told them all this. Would Nana even be all right with them knowing it? He decided not to ask her.

  They sat in silence for a while until Bridget cleared her throat lightly. “Mr. Stone, why did the Leyans retreat from the world so long ago?”

  “After Occulus, we chose to stop communicating with the great many, for envy resulted in unnecessary war. Over time, we became legend—a children’s tale—and no one believed enough to seek us. Instead, we invited those that were ready to join us in secret.
”

  “A secret society,” Leera muttered, pushing away a bowl full of pits. “So how many of you are there?”

  “There are no less nor more than sixty-seven.”

  Sydo almost choked on a golden plum. “Sixty-seven—? Is that all?”

  “That is all.”

  The table fell silent. Augum rubbed his forehead. Any hopes of mounting a Leyan army against the Legion were smothered.

  “Excuse me, m’lord,” Mya said, folding her hands neatly, “but were there not more of you once?”

  “For eons our numbers were great. Since the creation of the scions, however, we have only dwindled. Some among us say we passed too much of our strength into the scions. Others say it is because we have withdrawn from the world. Still others argue it is because of reasons we have yet to fathom, for there is much we still do not understand. There is considerable debate amongst us at this time.”

  “You debate?” Sydo asked, raising a fiery eyebrow. “I mean … sir.”

  “We discuss, hypothesize, challenge, commune, and yes, even debate, Sydo Ridian.”

  Leera’s hands splayed open. “But sir, can you not simply invite more people to become Leyan?”

  “Invitations are scarce, a consequence of our withdrawal. Those that believe in our existence are few in number. Those that believe in our existence and also strive to be among us number even fewer, for we only choose those that are ready, those that seek enlightenment.”

  “Enlightenment?” Sydo looked around. “What exactly is there to do out here?”

  “We practice old ways and share old knowledge passed down to us from those before. We practice the arts of silence, awareness, and peace, watching and listening to the countless subtleties of existence.” Thomas made a slow sweep with his hand. “The unfolding beauty before us keeps us enthralled. Other times we watch your world through arcane eyes, chronicling its history, searching for those that are ready to join us.”

  Sydo shrugged. “Well I guess you do get to live for a long time.”

  Augum peered at Leera, who had a look as if being Leyan sounded like the most boring thing in the world. He had to agree. He couldn’t possibly fathom sitting out in a great desert and simply … listening.

  “Do Leyans live in groves like this, Mr. Stone?” Bridget asked.

  “We live in the winds of the desert. In ages past, we lived in a great underground city. We have not felt that need for much time. Some of us still visit, however.”

  The clouds dropped, almost rolling just above the tree-tops. The wind increased once again, and Mya glanced upward.

  Augum snuck a sidelong look at her, studying her long jet hair as it rippled in the breeze. When her gaze returned to the table, he hurriedly looked away, only to find Leera watching him. She did not look upset, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel guilty.

  Bridget reached for dessert, consisting of green strawberries and a comb of dark honey. “Mr. Stone, where has Mrs. Stone gone to? Is she exploring the old city?”

  “Anna seeks the other portals.”

  Bridget froze with a strawberry at her lips. “Other portals, sir?”

  “Before the knowledge was forgotten, those possessing a scion had the power to create a portal to Ley. Four portals are known to have been built, one you already know of.”

  “Castle Arinthian,” Augum said, thinking of the stone fountain with the figure of a hairless Leyan. He recalled Mrs. Stone using her scion to unlock it.

  “Another has long since been destroyed. But there are yet two others. I have told Anna where to find them.”

  “Does she want to destroy all of them?” Leera asked, scraping the honeycomb with a fingernail.

  “This I do not know, Leera Jones.”

  “Oh, I get it,” Leera said, waving a honeyed finger around, dripping everywhere and drawing a look from Bridget and Sydo “She wants to prevent Sparkstone from entering using the other scions.”

  “A correct conclusion, Leera Jones. A portal can only be opened with the scion that created it.”

  Augum wondered if destroying the remaining portals would really prevent Sparkstone’s entrance. Obviously, the Leyans themselves traveled to Solia using other means. If it was possible for Sparkstone to use the same method, Augum was sure his father would find it. After all, if there was a trait the man certainly did not lack, it was determination.

  A glint came into Sydo’s eye. “Sir, will you be teaching us other ancient spells?”

  “As per Anna’s instructions, I will not, Sydo Ridian. However, Anna has asked me to continue your training with standard spells. Sydo Ridian, you will practice the 1st degree with me. Mya Liaxh, you will continue your training with herbs. Bridget Burns, Augum Stone, Leera Jones—you will begin your 2nd degree training with Oba Sassone. He will be here soon.”

  Augum exchanged a look with Leera and Bridget, excited they were going to meet another Leyan. Would he look anything like Thomas?

  The trio finished eating in thoughtful silence, on the lookout for Oba Sassone. They did not have to wait long before a tall Leyan emerged from the trees.

  Oba Sassone

  Oba Sassone possessed the same kind of solid black eyes as Thomas and appeared just as young and hairless. But unlike Thomas, his physique was that of a seasoned gladiator, skin dark metallic, muscles rippling with veins. He wore brown pants and a tattered long-sleeved shirt the color of red wine, unbuttoned. Two curved blades hung from his hip, one on each side.

  “You have come, Oba Sassone,” Thomas said.

  “Come has Oba,” the man replied in a thick accent, night eyes sweeping over Augum and the others. “Vow you break for childlings?”

  “Yes.”

  Oba grunted.

  “I believe the time has come for us to share our knowledge with the mortal world once again.”

  Oba raised his chin. “Invited young Oba to Ley Thomas Stone has. Trust his wisdom Oba does. Consequences Oba accepts.”

  Thomas nodded slowly. “So be it.”

  “It be so.” Oba Sassone turned his broad back on them and sauntered over to a clearing, not far from Sydo’s statue. This, evidently, was the signal for them to begin training again. Augum, Bridget and Leera followed Oba, Sydo went with Thomas, and Mya returned to her collection of herbs and plants.

  “He talks funny,” Leera whispered.

  “And what did he mean by ‘consequences’?” Augum replied before Bridget gave them a silencing look.

  Oba Sassone stood waiting, hands resting loosely on the pommels of his blades. Augum kept his distance, reminding himself he still knew very little of the land of the Ley and its people.

  The man’s eyes narrowed as they lined up before him. “You know? Hmm? How much?”

  The trio exchanged cagey looks.

  “Push, Disarm, Shield? Hmm?”

  The words were hard to make out with his accent, but Bridget finally raised a meek hand. “We don’t know any of those spells, sir.”

  Oba crouched to her height, pushing his face into hers. “Know you two degree?”

  “We only just earned our 1st degree.”

  Oba straightened. “Stripes you show Oba.”

  The trio extended and flexed their right arms. A shimmering ring of water appeared around Leera’s arm, an ivy ring around Bridget’s, and a bolt of lightning around Augum’s.

  Oba Sassone grunted. “Childlings tell Oba names.”

  “I’m Augum Stone, and these are my friends, Bridget Burns and Leera Jones.”

  “Augum Stone, Bridget Burns, Leera Jones. What from kingdom?”

  “We come from Solia,” Leera replied, teetering on her toes.

  Oba’s eyes enlarged to the size of plums. “Craven kingdom, Solia—full of craven men!”He slammed a fist into his chest and four leafy rings erupted around his arm. The trio took a step back. “Solia not Nodia. Oba Sassone proud Nodian warrior. Oba meet few brave Solians. Sacrifice for no one, Solians. Know greed better than honor.” He pointed at each of them as h
e spoke. “Below Oba you stand until brave you prove.”

  “Sir, how do we prove we are brave?” Leera asked.

  “Leera Jones, Bridget Burns, Augum Stone—prove brave by listen, learn, sacrifice.”

  “Great, we’re back in class again,” Leera muttered, clearing her throat the moment Oba glanced at her.

  “Dark times in Solia,” Oba continued, the sinews in his neck bulging. “Thomas Stone ask Oba help train so childlings help craven kingdom. Oba not happy break vow for cowards. No brave warriors in Solia. No Speedswords. No honor. Hide behind metal skin Solians do. Mountain monks of north ignore craven kingdom and Solia King die like goat under necromancer blade.”

  Augum looked down at his feet, wondering if he should mention who his father is.

  “Why Augum Stone sulk? He afraid training?”

  Augum looked up. “Sparkstone, The Lord of the Legion … he’s my father. He murdered the king and …” He wanted to say he murdered a great many more. He wanted to say his father murdered Bridget and Leera’s parents—

  “Defend father does Augum Stone?”

  “No, I mean—”

  “Follow path of father does Augum Stone?”

  “No, of course not, I—”

  “Is heart of father heart of Augum Stone!”

  “NO—!” Augum found himself breathing hard, fists clenched.

  Oba Sassone studied him. “Carry weakness of craven kingdom you do. Overcome weakness you must. Much sacrifice need. From birth, Nodian warriors train. Solians coddled, pampered with feathered pillows.” He turned his black eyes to Bridget and Leera. “Solian women weak, defenseless. Solians made weak by weak kings, weak warriors. Now, Solian necromancer conquering weak people like lion conquers mice.”

  Leera held up a finger. “Excuse me, sir, but is Nodia the kingdom to the south east?”

  Oba looked her up and down as if deciding which limb to slice off first. His voice was deadly quiet. “Leera Jones not know where mighty Nodia lies?”

  Leera’s hands travelled behind her. “Well I have heard of it.”

  “Foolish childling—name kingdoms for Oba!”