Eye of the Moonrat (The Bowl of Souls: Book One)

by Cooley, Trevor H.

  The two guards kept a wary eye on the landscape around the traveling caravan, and every once in a while, one of them would ride forward to scout out the road ahead. Of course, this close to the city of Reneul, the academy’s border patrols kept the road safe from bandits or monsters. But the guards kept it up anyway, knowing that eventually they would get to more untamed places where such confrontations would be more likely to occur. They needed to be in top form for when that time came.

  As he watched them, Justan had a hard time figuring out what his place should be on this journey. He supposed that he would be expected to socialize with the mages along the way. But he really didn’t want to. They seemed so odd to him, with their pale skinny bodies and high way of talking. Justan was used to the gruffer talk of the Training School. Besides, all they did was sit in the wagons playing cards.

  It didn’t matter. He wasn’t a student of the Mage School yet. He was pretty sure that his contract didn’t go into effect until he actually entered the school. Surely he could do whatever he wanted until then.

  Justan had an idea. He waited until one of the guards was looking his way and waived to him. The guard guided his horse to the rear of the wagon.

  He was a large man with dark deep set eyes. He wore a breastplate over a sleeveless suit of chainmail that showed off his muscular arms and his head was topped by an open faced helmet. Justan could tell from his pointed beard that his hair was a fiery red.

  “Er, hello.” Justan did not know quite how to put it. “We haven’t met before. My name is Justan-“

  “You’re Faldon the Fierce’s son. Yeah, I know. They told us you were going to be on this trip,” the guard said. “I saw your fight against Qenzic in the arena the other day. Whoo, what a battle! I suppose that none of us should have been surprised how good you were. I took your father’s class at the Academy after all.” He pulled the horse in closer and stuck out his hand. “The name’s Riveren by the way.”

  Justan had to lean pretty far off of the back of the wagon in order to shake his hand. “Good to meet you, sir. Uh, listen, I was wondering if I could travel with you two. You know, help out with the guard duties.”

  He didn’t know how his request would be received. In his past experience, he found that Academy graduates tended to look down on people who hadn’t actually entered the academy yet.

  Riveren laughed. “Really?”

  “Sure. You see there’s nothing for me to do on this trip. I really don’t want to hang out in the wagon with the mages and I figure that I could be useful.”

  “Well I don’t see why not. We don’t have another horse for you to ride on or anything, but . . . I’ll tell you what. If you wanted to perch up on top of the wagon, these grasses are pretty high and we could use a bird’s eye view.”

  “Are you sure the other guard won’t mind?”

  “Zambon? Nah, he’s been complaining that we needed one more guy anyway. The Mage School sends a group out every year and bandits know we’ll be coming through.”

  Justan thanked him and climbed up to the roof. The ride was much rougher up there. He scanned the plains, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn’t the most exciting of tasks, but it made him feel useful.

  The caravan stopped late in the day to make camp and Justan asked the guards if they would be willing to spar with him on the journey. Riveren was willing as he intended to practice along the way anyway, but Zambon wasn't interested. He just sat on a nearby stump and whittled a piece of wood with a short knife.

  Before it got too dark, Justan and Riveren walked a short distance away in an area clear of the tall prairie grass and drew their weapons. Riveren’s chosen weapon was a heavy double-bladed battle-ax. Justan whistled at the sight of it. The ax looked large and unwieldy. When Riveren let him hold it, Justan was sure that he would tire after just a few swings.

  “How do you fight with something so heavy?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Riveren smiled.

  Justan understood how the large ax could be a useful weapon if one were fighting against several foes or even one large beast. But a quick swordsman should be able to defeat a man with such a large slow weapon easily because of the huge openings that it left in the man’s defenses.

  Justan was wrong.

  Riveren swiped the ax in large broad swings that kept Justan at a distance. When it seemed that there was finally an opening, Justan darted in for an attack, but Riveren widened the loop of his swing and very nearly hit him before he could escape.

  It didn’t take Justan long to figure out why Riveren didn’t tire. It was all in his technique. Riveren was lifting and swinging a very weighty weapon, but he did it with efficiency. He didn’t break momentum. Every swing led into the next.

  Justan was caught off guard several times and cursed his disloyal body. The brilliant control he had shown the day before in the close combat test was gone. He was the same old Justan, shaky as ever.

  “You alright, Justan?” Riveren asked.

  “I don’t know. Yesterday I fought better than I ever had in my life.” He shook his head. “However I did it, it seems to be gone now.” Justan was afraid that the guard would laugh at him, but Riveren just smiled, and patted him on the back.

  “Hey, that's all right. Everyone has their off days. It’s not gone forever.”

  Justan wasn’t so sure.

  Later that night, Justan sought answers. He was able to get one of the mages to quit playing his card game long enough to tell Justan that he could find Ambassador Valtrek in the middle wagon of the caravan. It was his quarters for the trip.

  Justan knocked on the wagon door but there was no answer. He waited for a moment and knocked again. Just as he was about to leave, a glowing rune appeared upon the oaken surface of the wagon door.

  The rune brightened and the ambassador’s voice came through it. “Yes?”

  Justan scratched his head. He wasn’t used to this sort of thing. Was he supposed to talk into it? He stepped up on the first step and leaned toward the rune, not quite sure how close he had to be for the wizard to hear him. “Um, this is Justan.”

  “Yes, what is it?” The rune responded. It seemed to brighten with each syllable.

  “Well, can I speak with you, sir? I have some questions.” Justan asked, putting his lips closer to the glowing symbol. It was a little too close, evidently, for the door opened into his lips with a resounding smack. Justan fell off of the step and landed on his seat, jarring his tailbone.

  “What?” Ambassador Valtrek’s head poked around the door to see Justan sitting in the dirt with his hand over his mouth. “No wonder you sounded so loud. You shouldn’t stand so close to a closed door you know.” Valtrek came down the steps and Justan caught a whiff of some kind of sweet spice before the door shut behind him.

  The ambassador held out a hand, which Justan accepted, and pulled him to his feet. “You are right. It is time we spoke. Come, walk with me.”

  They walked past the campfire where the mages were gathered, laughing and swapping stories while playing their game, and traveled through the tall grass until they were out of earshot. Valtrek turned to him. Justan steeled himself for the possible confrontation.

  “Now, Justan, I have as many questions for you as I am sure you have for me. I can’t promise that I can or will answer them in the way that you wish to hear, but I can promise you this. I will do my best to answer as honestly as possible if you promise to do the same.”

  Justan crossed his arms and digested what had been said. “Fair enough. May I begin?”

  Valtrek nodded.

  “Alright. I wish to travel alongside the guards until we reach the school. As far as I know, my responsibility to the Mage School doesn’t begin until we arrive. Is that correct?”

  Valtrek made a placating gesture. “Until we arrive at the school, you may do as you wish.”

  Justan relaxed his posture, satisfied.

  “However,” the wizard continued. “I do sugg
est that you get to know the other students. They are curious about you, and it would be best if you spoke with them and dispel some rumors. Besides, you may find some friends there. It couldn’t hurt, as entering this new place will be difficult enough without being alone.”

  “Students? But they are mages already. I saw them healing at the training tests.”

  The ambassador smiled. “There are many levels of advancement in the Mage School. All of the beginning students start out as cadets. As soon as they are ready, they advance to the status of apprentice. The next step after that is mage. It takes many years after that for someone to become a full wizard and graduate from the school.” Valtrek held out a hand and a glowing ball appeared, floating above it. “How far do you wish to go, Justan?”

  Justan, entranced by the ball, took a moment to respond. Then he blinked and straightened his body.

  “I have already announced my intentions. I will learn what I have to in order to keep these powers at bay, and after my contract is finished, I will head right back to the Battle Academy.”

  Valtrek blinked at the sight of Justan standing with his back straight and head thrown back proudly. The wizard laughed.

  “Why? So that you can become a warrior?” He held his other hand out palm up and the glowing ball cracked open. Out popped two miniature fighters that stood glowing on the wizard’s hands. They began fighting each other, slashing with little blades, dodging back and forth across his palms.

  “Yes, warriors have their purpose. But Justan, you have a much greater potential.” Suddenly the scene above the wizards hands expanded so that Justan could see that the two men weren't fighting alone, but were part of a much larger battle; a bloody war, with hundreds of little figures fighting and dying on both sides.

  Valtrek continued. “See what effect that one small warrior has in the scheme of things? He is but one tiny element, not really able to affect the battle one way or another.” Little man after little man died just to be replaced by another. Then in the midst of the battling armies appeared one solitary man in a deep blue robe holding a staff. The scene focused in and Justan saw his own face on the man.

  “This is the effect a powerful wizard could have on such a conflict.” Valtrek said.

  Justan saw himself shout out and thrust the butt of his staff deep into the earth. A pillar of flame shot up around him and then spread out in all directions, engulfing men in a blaze of heat that melted their armor and turned their flesh to ashes. The flames spread in waves like an ocean of fire until all of the warriors had been burned away. As the flames died down, the only man left standing was Justan with a grim expression wiping his brow with the sleeve of his robe, untouched. Then the wizard version of Justan smiled.

  As suddenly as it had started, the vision vanished.

  Justan found that both of his hands were clenched in anger. To see himself kill hundreds filled him with horror. He looked up at Valtrek’s face and saw the sheer energy restrained in the man’s eyes. He now seemed not a frail man, but a being of great power.

  Valtrek spoke in a voice that filled Justan’s ears with thunder. “Do you see what you could become? There is that much power in you! Now do you understand how insignificant your other skills are?”

  Justan blanched. The thought of such devastation in his hands, all of the melted twisted bodies, all that life extinguished, sickened him.

  “No!” He spit out. “I would never wish to have that kind of horror come through my hands! I reject your foul vision!”

  The man’s eyes softened.

  “That is good.” He smiled. “You have passed the first test.” He placed one hand gently on Justan’s shoulder. “This is why we wrested you from the Battle Academy.”

  Justan was filled with confusion. “What do you mean, it was a test?” He stammered. “It wasn’t real. It was all just an illusion, right?”

  “Of course.” Valtrek smiled.

  “Then this is not my future?”

  “No, not at all. I don't know your future. I’m not the Prophet.” The wizard chuckled at the visible relief in the young man. “Now don’t misunderstand me. You do have that kind of raw power within you.”

  “I could make huge waves of flame?” Justan asked.

  “Not necessarily. Wizards have strengths in many different areas. I have been watching you on and off all year to see what form your powers would take and I still don’t know. But it is different from any that I have seen before. I knew that when I watched you at the Arena yesterday.”

  He brought his voice down to an excited whisper. “I have never seen such a thing like that in all my days. The amount of power you brought in was astounding; and yet when you released it, there was no shock, no recoil. Believe me, there are many at the Mage School who will wish to study you to determine the extent of your powers.”

  “I wish to know, myself,” Justan replied, though the idea of a bunch of skinny old men studying him was unsettling. He didn’t know how he felt about the whole situation. “Tell me. Why did you show me that . . . test?”

  The man grew serious again. “We must be careful. The world does not need power hungry wizards with your potential about. At the Mage School, we do our best to make sure that such a being does not rise within our ranks. A full wizard with evil intent would be a terrible thing to unleash. Someone like that could upset the balance of the world horribly.”

  “Then what would have happened if I had failed this test?” Justan asked warily.

  The wizard inclined his head and four of the student mages stood up in the tall grass not far from them. Justan hadn’t even sensed their presence.

  “It might be better if I did not answer that question.” Valtrek replied. He gestured and the mages left back toward the campfire. “You passed the test. That is all that matters. Now let us return to the camp. It’s getting late. Though there is much I still wish to know, we will have many nights to discuss it.”

  The man in the white robe turned and started back to the camp. It took Justan a minute to follow. Suddenly the depth of the responsibility that would accompany his new powers seemed daunting.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The next morning he awoke to the brightening of the dawn before everyone else. In an effort to shake the events of the night before from his mind, Justan took out his gifts from Jhonate, the Jharro bow and golden bowstring. He strode a short distance from the camp in order to find a suitable target. He hunted through the grasses and soon saw a plump rabbit gnawing at some tender grass near a tree a fair distance away. It would make a fine breakfast.

  He felt a thrill as he notched an arrow on the string. He had been itching for a chance to try out his new weapon. The bow felt just right in his hands. He knew that it belonged to him as surely as his own arm.

  Slowly, as not to scare the rabbit, he brought the bow up and pulled the string back to his ear. He could feel the arrow throbbing with power as he sighted in on the small creature. Justan deepened his gaze and felt that familiar sense of focus. He knew that the arrow would find the target.

  When he let go, the arrow shot out so quickly that he was barely able to make out its flight. The arrow passed through the creature’s body and disappeared into the ground behind. The rabbit exploded into tiny pieces. Justan gulped.

  “Dear gods!”

  Justan jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to see Riveren standing behind him. The guard’s mouth was agape in surprise.

  “How did you do that?”

  “It’s the bow.” Justan hastily unstrung the weapon, shaken by its power. He put the golden bowstring away. “It’s the first time I used it. I-I didn’t know it would do that.”

  “Well it definitely won’t be of much use when hunting,” Riveren laughed. “Where’d you get it?”

  “It was a gift,” he explained. “From my teacher.”

  “Oh, so it came from the daughter of Xedrion then. That figures. She caused quite a stir in the academy with her fighting style and that staff of hers.”
/>   “You know her?”

  “Well, I have seen her fight in the academy classes, and she is amazing. Mean though. I once asked her name and nearly got punched in the nose for my efforts.”

  Justan laughed. It felt good to speak with someone who knew Jhonate. “I know the feeling.”

  “You are lucky to have been trained by her.” Riveren smiled and pulled a longbow from his back. “As long as you’re shooting, would you like some competition?”

  Justan was a bit wary of the weapon after the last shot, but he nodded. This time, he strung the bow with a regular bowstring instead of the golden one. They selected a knot on a large tree as a target and began shooting.