“Of course he didn’t. All he ever cared about was Egidius and power. In that order. No wonder the Consilium Veneficus is such a fucking mess.”
“How am I going to explain Conley to Drystan tomorrow?”
“ ‘Here’s a new fallen knight’ like you do every year?” Baxter asked.
“Named Conley? Oh, did you happen to notice he’s your mate, Drystan?”
“He’ll figure out they are mates on his own, no need to point it out. As for the name, he’s going to bitch about it. He hates the subject of whether he’s a dead dragon emperor.”
“All right, you going to go back to bed?”
“Are you?” Baxter returned.
“Can’t sleep.”
“Let’s go resurrect some fallen knights,” Baxter said as he stood up. Chander followed him down the hall and they split off into their own rooms to get changed.
* * *
Chander mentally rolled up his sleeves and then gave the large box in front of him a pat. They were in the official Order of the Fallen Knights Training Center in the large room designated for the sole purpose of resurrection. The room was essentially divided into two halves; one had a bed and a small table next to it where Baxter had already placed a small cup of water and some crackers. The process sometimes gave the recipients of the spell nausea. On the other side of the room was a desk with a state of the art computer Chander could work from while he waited for a disoriented recruit to lose his dizziness so he could be escorted to his dorm room to relax and recover for the next three days. After that, the often-grueling training and mandatory classes began to truly turn them into fallen knights.
Next to the desk was a couch for his sentinel or any of the fallen knights to hang out in between Chander’s spells. When he was casting, he allowed only his sentinel to be present and only because both Baxter and Benton refused to leave him alone for much of anything outside of their apartment. They took their duties very seriously, which was inherent to their race.
After a fortifying breath, Chander placed his hand on the box and said the words he’d encoded to open it. Soundlessly the top unsealed and floated up. Chander’s eyes were immediately drawn to the man lying inside of it on a black cushion. He looked like an ancient relic with his long brown hair and dated clothing. His arms were laying at his sides and on one hand, he wore a silver mating band. On the other was a golden ring that signified his rank as emperor.
Reaching in and murmuring an apology, he slid both pieces of jewelry off and cast a spell to send them home to another skull-covered box only he could unlock. It contained Drystan’s identical rings as well as his sword. Conley’s was still at his belt so Chander carefully lifted it and sent it to lie next to Drystan’s. When their memories were restored, he would gladly return their belongings.
He’d given little thought to either Drystan or Conley when he’d resurrected them all those centuries before. The Council of Sorcery needed defense, and they were perfect for the job. He was too young and too stupid to understand the magnitude of his actions. This time he was an experienced leader, so he knew the weight of what he was about to place upon Conley’s shoulders.
As far as mates went, Chander had no practical knowledge. He had yet to meet his and doubted he deserved him if he did. It was something he had in common with few people; he cringed at the idea of trying to make a relationship work. In fact, the last thing he wanted was to meet his other half. His duties as a sorcerer and the leader of the necromancers took up all of his energy, and he was loath to have leisure time. A mate wouldn’t want someone who rarely slept, forgot to eat, and generally ignored real life.
He wondered if Drystan was ready to meet his other half. Chander hoped so. Conley would have to adjust to a lot more. He’d assume he was newly resurrected—not knowing his new life had begun a long time ago, he’d just been in a very deep sleep for all of it. On top of that, he had a mate and he was a Council leader. All in one fell swoop. Chander worried over Drystan’s reaction, but it was likely Conley’s would be worse. One thing was for sure, the future and its revelations had disaster written all over it for Chander.
The only silver lining he could see was the off-chance the pair were so blissful and in love that they were able to forgive Chander for all he’d done. His sorry hide would be saved, but the best part of his imagined scenario was how much happiness it would bring to Drystan and Conley. Because Chander knew if push came to shove, the necromancer elder council would hand his butt over to anyone willing to take the problem of him off their hands.
Being the only Fate-born necromancer leader had no upside. His power had been stripped when he was a baby to allow him to grow up and gain leadership skills; only, it had never been returned. Arch Lich was more an honorary title these days as the elder council had used every excuse imaginable to reduce his authority. When they learned the truth about Drystan and Conley, they were likely to throw a fit. Most of the time Chander didn’t care anymore; he was tired of fighting them. If he wasn’t so worried about what would happen to his people, he’d hand over his duties to whoever wanted them.
Chander was procrastinating and he knew it. With another apology to the sleeping Reverent Knight, he waved his hand over his head and Conley’s long locks were trimmed to a more modern style. Next, he changed his fourteenth-century tunic and hose to the loose track pants and T-shirt all newly fallen knights were adorned in when they were brought to life. On his feet, he replaced the boots with a pair of comfy sneakers.
Baxter, who’d been quietly perched on the couch, wandered over to Conley’s open box. “You want me to carry him to the bed before you wake him up?”
Chander was slender and about five foot six; there was no way he was going to be able to lift a man who had several inches and many more pounds of muscle than he did. He could use magic to assist him, but Chander was concerned casting anything on Conley would wake him. The original stasis spell had not been delivered with such a length in mind, and it was likely fragile. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d appreciate it,” Chander finally said.
“Sure,” Baxter replied before sliding his arms under the Reverent Knight and carrying him across the room.
“Thanks, Bax.”
“You all right?”
“Scared shitless, thanks for asking.”
“The scary shit doesn’t happen until they decide to seal their matebond,” Baxter said. “Today is all about watching Drystan piss himself when he figures out Conley here is his mate.”
“Yeah, he’s going to freak.”
“In a good way.”
“You can stop placating me. I’m not going to cry or anything,” Chander grumbled. “You and Benton act like my parents, I swear.”
“You never had parents.”
“Neither did you, so where do you get this shit from?”
“Probably TV,” Baxter responded. “And hey?”
“What?”
“Don’t mention Benton’s name around me. I hate that guy.”
Chander rolled his pewter eyes behind his glasses. “Whatever.”
“Let’s do this.”
“Right,” Chander said and then blew out a breath. He closed his eyes and chanted an ancient spell to wake up an emperor who had no idea he was now a man of legend.
Chapter 27
His eyelashes fluttered before he managed to open his eyes. The world around him was awash with light and his brain was being pummeled by a heavy volume of information. He was a fallen knight and had just been resurrected to serve the Order of Fallen Knights. Duties, laws, and information about the Council of Sorcery and Shifters who comprised the people he was now honor-bound to protect continued to flow.
Instinctively he began categorizing all the data and storing it for future use. Once the barrage settled, he became aware he was lying on a small bed in a room with the Arch Lich who was responsible for his new life and the necromancer leader’s sentinel.
“You’re awake,” the sentinel said as he walked toward him and peered do
wn.
“I am.”
The Arch Lich crossed the space. “Welcome Fallen Knight, Rank One Conley Gylde.”
“Thank you, Arch Lich.”
“Would you like some water or crackers?” the sentinel asked.
Conley’s throat was a bit dry. “Water. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
The sentinel smiled. “I’m Baxter.”
Lifting his body up into a sitting position, Conley took the cup of water from Baxter. “Thank you, Baxter.”
“How do you feel?” the Arch Lich asked.
“Well, I think.”
“No nausea?”
He knocked back the contents of the glass and set it back down onto the table next to the bed. “None. Is that normal?”
“Everyone experiences their resurrection differently. There is no normal,” the Arch Lich replied.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance at life, Arch Lich.”
“No need to thank me. I’m happy to be of service,” the necromancer said. “Would you like to try and stand?”
“I would,” Conley replied and although he would have preferred to do it on his own, Baxter placed a hand under his elbow and guided him upright. “Thanks.”
The sentinel released him. “No problem.”
“Any dizziness?” the Arch Lich asked.
“No, no dizziness.”
“Go ahead and walk around the room a bit to orient your body,” the necro suggested and Conley thanked him again, refused Baxter’s assistance, and started moving around the large space.
“Good morning,” a blond fallen knight said as he entered the room through the open door.
“Morning. Venerable Knight Vann Ruarc, this is FK1 Conley Gylde,” the Arch Lich responded.
The Venerable Knight seemed to choke back laughter before he replied, “It’s a pleasure to meet you FK1 Gylde. How are you feeling?”
Conley walked over to shake the man’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you, VK Ruarc. I’m well.”
“If you’ve got your feet under you, I can show you to your dorm,” the Venerable Knight said.
“Thank you, VK Ruarc, I would like that.”
“Great, follow me.”
Conley trailed after the other fallen knight through a maze of hallways until they finally got to a room with a giant number one next to it.
Vann opened the door and waved him in. “Everything you need is in here. Your training manual with maps and schedules. Breakfast starts in about two hours. For the next three days, you have no requirements but be ready to get your ass kicked after that. You’ll meet VK Roman Calixtus and Reverent Knight Drystan Kempe sometime today.”
“And if I get bored relaxing?”
“You’ll need to pick up your uniforms and your textbooks. You can get a head start on your reading and the gym is always open. You’ve got a television with hundreds of channels. There’s also a computer with Internet on your desk so I’m sure you’ll find plenty to do to keep you occupied over the next couple of days as well as in the little off time you get during the next eight weeks of your stay here,” Vann said with a friendly smile.
“Thank you.”
“Any questions for me before I go?”
“I will meet the other newly fallen knights at breakfast?”
“Most likely; it depends on how quickly they recover from their resurrection. It could take a couple of hours if one or more of them gets sick. We don’t move anyone away from the Arch Lich until we are sure they are steady on their feet.”
Conley was out of questions. “I see.”
“All right, if you need me for anything at all open your training manual and my cell is on the first page as well as VK Calixtus’s and RK Kempe’s. You have a phone on the desk there, and you’ll be issued a cell when you pick up your uniforms.”
“Can I do that now?”
“Shop won’t open until after breakfast.”
“Very well, thank you, VK Ruarc.”
“Nice meeting you, Conley.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Conley replied and they shook again before Vann left the room and shut the door behind him.
Conley looked around the space and wondered what to do first. One thing was for certain, he didn’t want to lie down and relax. There was too much energy buzzing around in his veins for anything that mundane. Figuring the training manual with its maps and schedules would be information he needed sooner rather than later, he dropped down onto the desk chair and opened it. It was thick, which was perfect because it would keep him busy.
As Vann had said, the first page had the contact information of the leaders of the Order of the Fallen Knights. For some inexplicable reason, he was compelled to run his fingers over the name Reverent Knight Drystan Kempe. Perhaps it was because he was the ruler of Conley’s people but it honestly felt like more. He wondered when he would get to meet him. Conley hoped it was soon.
* * *
Drystan pulled into the parking lot of the Fallen Knights Training Center and slid his SUV into his designated spot. He could have teleported here but you never knew when you were going to have to run to the store and grab something. It helped to have a car in those circumstances. The Council frowned on materializing outside of designated areas. It cut down on scaring the shit out of hapless people by popping out next to them.
Grabbing his bag, he got out of the car and slung it over his shoulder. Vann had already texted him that Chander had resurrected all five new recruits. The last of them was still in Chander’s room, but he was likely to be moved to his dorm shortly. Breakfast was going to start soon so the timing was perfect, especially since it allowed the Arch Lich to make it to the Assembly Hall in time for the daily session. He would be sure to make fun of Chander since he had to go and Drystan got out of it for the next three days.
Something about the air in the building was charged, Drystan thought as he entered it. Perhaps it was just because they had five new soldiers, but they’d been doing this for centuries and it had never been quite this electric. Of course, it could be he’d sucked down a bit too much coffee this morning.
Striding down the hall, Drystan used his card, which was both for identification and access, to unlock the office space he shared with Vann and Roman. It was on the second floor of the structure and two walls were tinted glass. One side overlooked the cafeteria and the other the main gymnasium.
“Hey Drystan,” Roman called out when he saw Drystan enter the large room.
“Morning, how’s it going?”
“Good, Vann is down showing the last of them to his dorm.”
“No problems?”
Roman had a weird smile on his face Drystan couldn’t interpret. “No, there were no problems.”
“What’s with that smile?”
“I don’t know, I got a feeling it’s going to be an interesting day.”
“You’re acting weirder than normal,” Drystan commented as he dropped his bag onto the floor.
“Hey, boss man is here,” Vann said as he sauntered in.
“Everyone settled?”
“Yeah, and Chand just left,” Vann replied. “Seemed to be in a hurry.”
“Something big happening at the Council session this morning?”
Now Vann had a creepy-ass smile. “Not that I know of.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you two today?”
“Nothing wrong with me,” Vann remarked and turned to Roman. “Something wrong with you?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Drystan furrowed his brow. “I have a feeling I’m going to have to kick some asses today.”
Vann laughed and held up his hands. “I’m not it.”
“Anyone going to give me the list with the names Chand gave to the new recruits?”
“Printing it now,” Roman said.
Drystan snatched it up off the printer and his eyes were immediately drawn to the first name on the list: FK1 Conley Gylde. “What the fuck is this?”
“Uh, list of ne
wbies?” Vann asked.
“What the fuck was Chand thinking naming one of them Conley? For shit’s sake, I don’t get enough grief about those damn dragons?”
Vann chuckled. “Well, considering how legendary those dragons are, it’s crazy it has taken him this long to use the name.”
Before Drystan could respond to that bit of idiocy, his head began to buzz. The smell of sandalwood, roses, and lavender hit his nose and all the blood in his body pooled in his groin. Whipping his head to the side he looked down to see a lanky man walking into the cafeteria. Through the glass, he could make out short chestnut hair, but it was too far of a distance to see his eye color.
Drystan was trying to make sense of all the alarms clamoring through his body when the fallen knight lifted his head and seemed to look directly at him. There was no way he could see Drystan through the dark windows but he was pinned to the spot. That was when he realized he was looking at this mate. The man downstairs shook his head as if to clear it and began walking toward the pile of trays.
Turning back to the two men in the office, Drystan snapped out, “Who is that?”
“The guy in the cafeteria?” Vann asked as he came to stand next to him.
“Yeah, who the fuck is he?”
“FK1 Conley Gylde.”
Drystan closed his eyes. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?”
It was no use hiding his discovery. “We have a problem.”
“What?” Roman asked and Drystan turned away from watching his mate pile a plate with a giant mound of bacon.
“FK1 Conley Gylde is my mate.”
Roman’s mouth went slack and Vann gasped.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Drystan said as he began to pace. “I can’t be here. He needs time to learn how to be a fallen knight. There’s no way he can do that with me around.”
“Is it fair to hide your connection?” Vann asked.
“You know how grueling the next eight weeks are going to be. Would you want to do all of it with your mate, who happens to be the leader of your people, hanging around? Teaching you? With the prospect of becoming a Reverent Knight also stressing you out?”
Resurrection Of The Fallen Page 18