Ethan Wright and the Curse of Silence

by Kimbro West

  “Like heck he’s not! He’s already picking on that boy,” interrupted Availia. She immediately started walking toward Marcus Grenwise and his entourage.

  “Well mate, we can’t let her go by herself, can we?” asked Auren, smiling.

  “Um … ok,” Ethan hesitantly agreed. “Let’s go make friends again.”

  A very pale boy was standing with his eyes aimed at his feet. He was wearing all black and had an expressionless face. Marcus and his followers were taunting the boy, but did not seem to get any type of reaction.

  “What’s the matter, stuttering Stanley? Cat got your tongue? …or maybe I should get my wardog to use you as a chew toy.”

  “Mm … mm … mustn’t mingle — many miscreants mm … m … morons,” stuttered Stanley.

  “What?!” yelled Marcus as he drew his sword.

  “You heard him, you moron! Why don’t pick on someone your own size,” challenged Ethan, now standing between Stanley and Marcus.

  Marcus turned as if to walk away and then lunged his sword right past Ethan and into Stanley’s shoulder. Ethan jumped and took a step back toward his friends, but to his surprise, Stanley didn’t move an inch.

  “WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?” yelled Auren, both him and Availia looking shocked.

  “If they have a prison here, I guarantee you’ll be in it soon!” yelled Ethan as he grimaced at the sight of a sword sticking into flesh. He took a step forward to countermand Marcus, but was stopped short. Marcus quickly removed his sword from Stanley’s shoulder and held it up to Ethan’s throat.

  “There is no law against stabbing a dead person — ol’ stuttering Stanley will be my personal pincushion while I’m here,” taunted Marcus. He drove the sword forward until it depressed Ethan’s skin.

  “Stanley’s shirt …” said Stanley, placing his finger through the hole in his shirt as he inspected it.

  “Dead?” asked Ethan as he stood his ground. “What do you mean dead?”

  “WHAT IS GOING ON OVER THERE?” yelled a familiar voice. Ethan would recognize the over-dressed man anywhere. It was Tothyll.

  Tothyll had selected a classy brown coat accompanied by an open-collared shirt and an assortment of jewelry. His shoes were so shiny that Ethan could see his reflection in them. He had a ring on almost every finger and on his thumbs as well.

  “You make me sick, Marcus!” yelled Tothyll as he grabbed Marcus’ collar with both hands and pulled him face to face. “If I see you act out again, I will not hesitate — you understand?”

  Marcus nodded.

  “Now scram! I don’t need any trouble the first day of orientation.”

  Marcus withdrew his sword from Ethan’s neck and sheathed the thin double-edged blade.

  “Watch your back, Ethan,” smirked Marcus under his breath.

  “He doesn’t have to as long as we’re around,” replied Auren. Availia crossed her arms and nodded as the gang of miscreants walked away laughing.

  Ethan caught his breath and shook the hand of his savior.

  “Thanks, Tothyll,” said Ethan.

  “No problem — nothing you wouldn’t have handled anyway. You alright, Stanley?” asked Tothyll, now investigating the hole in Stanley’s shirt.

  “Nn … nnn … yes,” answered Stanley.

  “That’s a relief … Ethan, I would like you to meet Stanley — and Ethan, who are your friends here? A recruiter like myself has to know these things.”

  “This is Auren and Availia, but … wait — how is he ok? I saw a sword go right into his shoulder … I mean … I did, didn’t I?”

  “Alchemy accidents always anticipate anger and aggression,” said Stanley quickly.

  “Does he always talk like that?” asked Auren, pointing at Stanley.

  “Stop it,” snapped Availia, hitting Auren’s arm. “You’re being rude.”

  “On the contrary, it is only natural to be curious,” replied Tothyll. “Stanley is a resident here. At one time he was a student in experimental alchemy — one of the school’s finest. Several squads were attempting to make an elixir that could extend the life of an individual. After what seemed to be a successful attempt to keep an old cat from dying, Stanley tested it on himself. He is not entirely alive, but not quite dead either — more or less he is … well, stuck in a state of limbo between the two.”

  “Nnn … nn,” stuttered Stanley.

  “It’s alright Stanley, I will get to that,” Tothyll continued. “The trauma associated with the experiment left him without proper speech. However, he has worked with a specialist and now he is able to communicate. I believe you are returning to school this year, aren’t you, Stanley?”

  “Nnn … nn … yes,” answered Stanley, while playing with the hole in his shirt again.

  “Stanley,” said Availia, as she approached. “Did this hurt?”

  “Stanley’s shirt,” replied Stanley.

  Availia inspected the hole in Stanley’s shirt and then looked at the skin where the sword would have gone through. “There’s no wound here — it’s as if nothing happened at all. But something did happen. Stanley, those boys were very rude, do you understand?”

  Stanley nodded.

  “So uh … what happened to the cat?” asked Auren, chuckling.

  “I’m sorry?” asked Tothyll, scratching his head.

  “You know — that was treated with experimental alchemy — before Stanley tried it on himself.”

  “Yes … well, I … you know, I am not entirely sure. That’s a good question, Auren, I would be happy to look into it for you.” Tothyll gave the four a rather strange look and then refocused. “Ethan, I know last time we spoke you didn’t seem interested in the Guard, but here you are on the first day of orientation. There is still time to enter your name in the Ordo Electus lottery … well … I … can enter all of your names if you like.”

  “What lottery?” asked Ethan.

  “Well, this year is different, as it is the first open enrollment in some time. But in the past, every teacher was assigned a squad of four at random. However, I am afraid to say that there are concerns with several teachers on the quality of, well … shall we say, talent … that comes through the Oroborus. So it was decided that this year’s lottery be a selection instead. After today’s orientation is concluded, all twenty-five teachers will take turns selecting one member of their squad per round for a total of four rounds, until they have four students, which means, only one hundred students will make the cut this year. And the results will be posted outside the orientation building upon completion — how exciting!”

  “Whoa, that sounds wicked! Can we watch?” asked Auren.

  “Sorry — closed door event,” answered Tothyll. “If you would have me, I could still get your names entered into the Electus — you in then?”

  Ethan looked at Auren, who shrugged his shoulders but nodded slightly. They both turned to Availia as she smiled and nodded.

  “I would also add that if I sign you up and you are selected … well … let’s just say that is how I make a living,” added Tothyll.

  “We’re in,” answered Ethan.

  Tothyll again shook Ethan’s hand and smiled. “Well then, Stanley, could you show these three to orientation? I am sure they are excited to get started.”

  Stanley nodded.

  “Orientation?” asked Ethan. “But don’t we need to be selected first?”

  “Orientation is for anyone that is new to the city of Tirguard — the first class is mandatory I’m afraid … and starts in a few minutes — other classes are mandatory if you wish to leave the walls of Tirguard. The class will be filled with those from Whitehaven that are trying to join the Guard — should be fun … right?”

  Availia nodded and took Stanley by the arm. Ethan and Auren followed as they were led through the city to a rather boring-looking building. Ethan, who felt they were making very little progress with getting answers, reluctantly approached the old wooden door at the main entrance. A small sign hung over the door that read �
��Orientation’.

  “Nnnn … nnn … good, nnggg … nnn … luck,” stuttered Stanley.

  “Thanks, Stanley! We will see you again, maybe you can show us around later,” said Availia.

  “Nnnnggg … nnn … sure,” replied Stanley, withholding a small smile.

  The trio pushed through the swinging door. The hinges squeaked as they hissed open and the three found themselves in a large classroom which was dreary and dismal. It had several seats, cracked wooden desks with splinters sticking out, and old yellowed parchment supplied at each desk. The others in the class appeared to have been there all morning. Some of them had curled up in a corner and were resting their eyes, while others were looking at books and old scrolls that they had brought. Ethan noticed one boy carrying a decent-sized armor bag that had armor hanging out the side. It was obvious to Ethan that the boy had intentions of using it. Looking around the room, Ethan realized that he, Auren, and Availia were of the few that did not have an armor bag with them.

  “And what do you think you’re doing here?” shrilled a voice from the other side of the room.

  Ethan recognized the voice immediately; it was Marcus Grenwise.

  “You planning on registering for the Guard? It’s really no matter anyhow, you and your stupid friends won’t make the top one hundred,” added Marcus.

  “We don’t really care about the Guard, you moron,” spouted Auren without thinking. He realized that all the kids in the room that were carrying armor bags intended to join the Guard. But it was too late; soon they were receiving dirty looks from around the room.

  “Then why are you here?” asked Marcus. The question went unanswered. “I see you’re still a stupid oaf — soon you’ll learn how to talk to your superiors with respect,” snapped Marcus.

  “And who exactly would that be?” asked Ethan.

  “Me! In case the rules of the youth sword competition fell on deaf ears. Winner of the contest becomes captain of the youth Guard. That’s why so many entered — didn’t really matter though … just more for me to defeat,” answered Marcus snidely.

  Ethan looked over to Auren, who had entered the competition. “That true?” he whispered.

  “Well yeah I guess — wasn’t really paying attention to that part of it, wasn’t concerned with the prize at the time,” whispered Auren.

  Ethan nodded and refocused on Marcus, who was still staring at them with cold eyes. “Well you don’t have to worry about us being in your youth Guard, Marcus. If you’re running it, I would rather jump off a cliff,” said Ethan.

  “Not even you, Availia?” asked Marcus. “I was certain when I saw your application to the tournament that you had expressed a high interest in the Guard, but if not, I will be sure to pass that information along so none of you get in.”

  Availia’s hands formed two fists and her face turned bright red. Ethan couldn’t tell if she was going to cry or rip Marcus’ head off.

  “Tell me, Ethan, how does it feel to have a big stupid oaf as a best friend?” spat Marcus.

  Auren had just sat down, but bolted out of his chair as if he wanted to punch Marcus. Ethan put his hand on Auren’s shoulder and pushed him back in his seat.

  “Dunno, how does it feel to almost get taken out of the youth sword competition by a girl who has more talent in her right hand than you have in your entire body?” spouted Ethan.

  “Or maybe you want to talk about how a big stupid oaf spanked you in the backside in front of hundreds of people,” snickered Auren.

  “Or how you pick on, draw your sword, and attack an unarmed kid,” added Availia.

  “I’d be surprised if they put you in charge of washing dishes, let alone other people,” added Ethan.

  Marcus’ cheeks started to turn red. “At least I wasn’t scared to enter the contest because of my poor brother — ahh, boo-hoo,” he mocked.

  Just then, the door of the shabby classroom opened fiercely, interrupting the debate. In stepped a shady-looking but well-dressed man. He was led by his slightly large nose, which he carried in front of him with abrupt authority. He walked to the front of the classroom without worrying about the door, which reached the end of its hinges and snapped back. Alerted, all of the students sat up and came out of their daze.

  The man placed some fresh scrolls on the desk in front, and with a stern look walked right down the middle of the room to the back of the class. He then peered around at everyone.

  “Sit … down,” ordered the man. Everyone who was standing sat down, including Ethan.

  “I see all of the civilized families must have run out of noble sons to send forthwith,” he said in a very precise and sharp voice. He leaned over and looked down at Ethan. “And some would not even have the courtesy to send decent armor …” he said quietly as he made his way to the front of the classroom at a slow, intimidating pace, “….or in some cases, provide any at all.” Some of the others looked over at the three, who gave each other a look and then kept their heads down. “I am Captain of the armies of Tirguard. My name is Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa, but of course, you will refer to me as Captain Heinrich Agrippa. This is one of many classes you must take before leaving the walls of Tirguard … so pay attention. I am not here out of free will so do not waste my time with silly questions or stories of why … you … are here, because … I do not care,” he said with his hands behind his back. His eyes rolled over everyone in the classroom, who were now paying much closer attention.

  He paused for a bit and then continued. “It seems to me that some of you may think you can come and go as you please. Allow me to inform you otherwise — there is only one word here — my word. There is only one law here, and that is the law of Tirguard — which is the law you will follow during your stay here.” He paused again and paced slowly to the front corner of the classroom. “You see, some of you … who arrived through MacArthur, may think you can travel unchecked. However, I am here to inform you that he has been detained … and you will now only move back and forth through me, by appointment. No exceptions!” he shrilled.

  Auren and Ethan glanced at each other while whispering broke out within the classroom, which was immediately interrupted.

  “If … you have a concern with this, I will be most happy to escort you down to the prison, where you may tell your woes and sorrows to a cellmate … of your choosing.” The class quieted down. “No questions? Good, I will move along then,” he said smugly. “There are a few things to keep in mind. For those of you who wish to spend any amount of time in Tirguard, know that thirty years here is equivalent to one year in Enterom. For those of you who remain uneducated…,” he peered over at Auren, “Enterom is where you came from, the other side of the Oroborus, so to speak,” he smiled, curling his lip.

  Ethan grew more uncomfortable as Heinrich continued his lesson. “Some of you have interest in joining the Guard. Trust me when I say that the reward is great. If you excel in the Guard, you will have an opportunity to join with one of the armies of Tirguard. And, if lucky, could serve directly under myself … here,” continued Heinrich. “We have the most imperative job … here, in the army of Tirguard. We protect the city from the Mitan race. They are a murderous group. Outside the city walls, they have destroyed, pillaged, and hunted animal, beast, and man. For those of you that think travel is easy, let me inform you that you will not find horses in Tirguard — all are dead. Hunted down and killed by the Mitans. When they ran out of animals and beasts to hunt, they started hunting men. If you do find a creature in the wild, be wary, because it was most likely too difficult for a Mitan hunter to kill.” Heinrich peered around the classroom to look for a reaction.

  “Now then, write your name, your family’s surname, and the town in which you reside on the parchment in front of you — indicate if you have interest in the Guard. After completion, take a copy of our laws which you will … abide by, and be on your way. Any questions? No? Good.” Heinrich turned on a heel, opened the door, and walked out.

  “Well then,” said Auren.
“That was fun. He seemed tightly wound to me, did he seem tightly wound to you?”

  “Yeah — but what about MacArthur?” asked Ethan.

  The boy with the decent-sized armor bag looked over at Ethan. “You lot are a distraction. Do yourselves a favor … leave.” He got up and placed his finished parchment on the front desk, took a copy of the laws, hurled his armor bag over his shoulder and walked out the door.

  “Well then, we just made another friend,” said Auren quietly.

  “You won’t last one day here,” threatened Marcus as he placed his parchment on the desk and headed through the door.

  Ethan looked over to Availia. “Sorry about that. I hope we didn’t ruin your chances of getting in the Guard.”

  “Well, my sister is one of the highest-ranking squad captains here, so I think I may still have a chance. But maybe it’s best to keep to ourselves for now, just in case,” said Availia, who was secretly disappointed.

  Ethan and Auren agreed; they brought their parchment to the front and each took a copy of the laws before making their way out the door. Heinrich was waiting just outside for them.

  “Can’t believe we have to take more classes from this buffoon before leaving the city,” whispered Auren.

  “Considering he put MacArthur in prison, now we don’t have any way of getting back — well, don’t think we have any choice really,” muttered Ethan.

  “Not unless we make an appointment with Heinrich,” corrected Availia. “Although, I don’t picture Heinrich as the type who would sit in a hut all day sending people back and forth.”

  “Hmm … well then, what do you think we should do about MacArthur?” asked Ethan.

  “What can we do? I knew the old man was a bit crazy; it probably just caught up with him,” replied Auren.

  “He’s not crazy … maybe a bit eccentric …”

  “Ethan Wright, I presume?” interrupted Heinrich in a slimy voice. The three were caught off guard; Ethan wondered if Heinrich had heard their conversation. “I find it funny how features can carry one such as yourself through life,” he continued as he placed his long white fingers under Ethan’s chin and examined his face. Ethan noticed a silver ring with a large black stone on one of the fingers grasping his chin. The inside of the stone was swirling around like pluming black smoke, mesmerizing Ethan. He thought to himself that Heinrich had picked a ring that matched his personality and began to chuckle. The Tirguard Captain noticed Ethan’s grin and pushed his face back. “You look just like your brother … the traitor.”