Viktor

by Francesco Leo

THE VILLAGE ON THE WATER

  “A

  ll right, I can go on. I think I can handle it now ...,” Selene said with renewed strength, though still a bit confused.

  “Are you okay?” asked Viktor.

  “Yes ... I was conscious all the time, I could hear you, but I didn’t have the strength to talk or move and ...”

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her.

  “Viktor, you’re talking almost as if you’d been carrying her all this time,” Devanorth snapped with irony, stretching his arms toward the overcast sky.

  Selene smiled and soon Viktor joined her. “I’m still angry with you, anyway.”

  “Folks, postpone your quarrels until we reach Placym, please!” Devanorth admonished them.

  “Dev, what will you do with the caravan and the goods now that everything has been destroyed?” asked Selene.

  “Don’t worry about the caravan and the goods ... it was only a set-up. There has never been anything useful on that wagon. I will explain everything in due course.”

  Devanorth’s words instilled great curiosity in the two youngsters, but they chose to avoid further discussion.

  After a long walk, the trail became flat and the rocks on the right disappeared to make way for a huge expanse of white flowers.

  “Stupendous,” Selene thought, turning her gaze to the small barrier of flowers suspended in the air, lifted up by the blows of wind that occasionally hit the lawn. “From here I cannot see them well…” she groaned, pointing to the flowers.

  “I don’t know ... I don’t understand much about plants and flowers. Some say that the white flowers of this plain come from the gardens of Valhalla, flowers with healing powers and hidden benefits. They called them by many names, but I don’t remember them at the moment; you know how it is, people today say and think all kinds of things.”

  Selene nodded without answering and without looking away from the flowers, then returned her eyes to the path.

  “Damn it, I’m hungry ... I hope to get to the village soon, I’m exhausted. The last supplies of food were in the saddlebag with changes of clothes and the map, but the kidnappers took them. They took almost everything, fortunately Devanorth managed to find our weapons,” Viktor pointed out.

  “You can buy new clothes and a new map at Placym, if that’s the problem,” replied the owner of the caravan.

  At that moment Viktor paid attention to the coins he had; the money he got from Trust was enough to afford basic necessities.

  Suddenly, worried, he put his hand to his chest.

  When he realized he still had the talisman of Artemisia round his neck, he breathed a sigh of relief.

  The pendant had gone unnoticed to the eyes of those who had kidnapped him.

  “We’re almost there,” Devanorth announced. “Down there is the big Lake of Mephis, on its bank we will find the village of Placym.”

  “I have never gone so far.”

  Selene gave the boy a distracted look, then returned to gaze at the lake. When the three were close enough to the village, they set out on a secondary path heading for Placym, a cluster of houses and stilt houses on the lakeshore.

  The entrance to the village consisted of a short wooden walkway that could be retracted by the guards on the scaffolding.

  When the guards saw Devanorth, they didn’t hesitate to lower the passageway on the bank of the lake to let the travellers into the village.

  “Enjoy your stay in Placym,” greeted the guards, dressed in a cream coloured uniform and an iron helmet.

  “Thanks,” Selene replied, as Viktor returned a smile and Devanorth nodded.

  The youngsters realized that the guards already knew Devanorth.

  From the small scaffolding at the entrance there were three streets going between the low, iron buildings. There were dozens of them, each one within walking distance of the other.

  The streets made of wooden planks were suspended on the lake about a quarter of a mile high; very narrow, for no more than three people aligned.

  The architecture of the village emphasized its antiquity and for many years had lived in peace with everyone in the same way.

  The only city it had closer contact with was Port Lim, from where supplies of all kinds came.

  Because of the lake, there were many fish shops and people who preferred to go fishing got their own supply.

  While the three walked, the low temperature began to be felt, a sign of the evening that was descending beyond the now sparse grey clouds.

  However, the streets of the village remained crowded, not only by the people but also by the indistinct chatter of several hasty, loud villagers.

  Some men lighted oil lamps along the streets, fixed to the buildings that embraced every corner of Placym.

  Slowly, the glow of the lights radiated the woody alleys among the mixture of houses and shops.

  “Tomorrow will be a good day,” said Devanorth, scanning the sky.

  “Finally,” Selene said with a sigh.

  Their walk ended when, to everyone’s relief, Devanorth stopped in front of a small wooden door.

  A thick, light wood sign wished everyone a good stay at the inn “The fisherman’s bed.”

  “Follow me,” said Devanorth, slowly opening the front door.

  The interior was composed of a large rectangular room that had, on the left side, a counter and wooden stairs without a railing that went towards the upper floor.

  Instead, on the right side there was a stage, where musicians were accompanying the verses of a sweet song sung by a bard.

  Devanorth and the youngsters reached the centre of the room among out-of-place chairs and small tables overflowing with every kind of drinks. The room was permeated with the stench emanating from the masses and the strong smell of alcohol, and this made their passage unpleasant among the people and the tables.

  “How long do you think they have been drinking” Most of them don’t seem to be sober” Viktor shouted to Selene.

  The girl ignored him and turned to Devanorth. “Why are we standing still here? Shouldn’t we book a room? Besides I think that you’ve been with us enough.”

  At this point Devanorth motioned to the two youngsters to go out.

  As soon as they started to breathe fresh air, they plunged into semidarkness.

  The streets of Placym, so crowded and narrow, built on the lake, took on a mystical appearance at night.

  “What’s up?” asked Viktor.

  “The person you are looking for is not here, I think he will come when the bard has finished singing. He doesn’t like noisy rooms…” Devanorth said looking around.

  “Who? How do you know…” Viktor started.

  “I too am a member of the Star. My task was to find you in Beleth to escort you safely here to Placym, where another one of us, together with me, will train you.”

  “For what reason didn’t you tell us all this time?”

  “So I could study you. The kidnapping was an unexpected event, if it had not been for the urgency, I would never have revealed my identity to you.”

  “If I hadn’t followed you that night in Beleth, we would never have met or travelled together,” Viktor pointed out.

  “That night I seized the opportunity to meet you. I knew you had been watching me for a while and that I was intriguing. It was nerve-racking to find myself in the centre of attention, but if it had not been for that night, I would still have found a way to assist or supervise you without being seen.”

  “First Sinus in the monastery and now you of the Star: when will you finish checking my every move?”

  “When we are sure you will be able to travel and defend yourself alone.”

  Viktor turned his head to avoid Devanorth’s eyes, which were shrinking to two slits.

  “Why did us refer to both of you when you were talking about Viktor’s training?” asked Selene.

  “Because, since he has chosen to take you with him, he has made you a participant in what he will go through,” said
a dark voice coming from above. “Obviously, I don’t say that with this there will be two chosen by the Star but, as long as you are with him, you will be his responsibility.”

  Devanorth watched the confused faces of the youngsters with a slight smile on his face. “Vroel, get off the roof. You could scare the young travellers.”

  A column of black smoke shattered from top to bottom, revealing the contours of a living figure: he wore a red cloak worn out at the edges by time, under which an armour of black leather and steel stood out.

  His hair fell to his shoulders, smooth and silvery, while his features were softened even more by the unusual yellow colour of his irises. The light of the lanterns was reflected in his half-mooned eyes. Some black fabric came out of his sleeves covering the fingers of his hands that were well groomed with long fingernails and many rings on them. The dark purple glaze sparkled with the gems of the rings and the steel of the armour.

  “Vroel, nice to meet you,” he said, bending his torso, while keeping his eyes on Viktor and Selene.

  “Our pleasure.”

  Vroel returned to his natural position, biting his thin lips for a moment.

  Viktor and Selene tried to control a grimace by noting that all his teeth were inhumanly pointy.

  “You all have the same reaction!” Vroel chuckled.

  “Who wouldn’t, with those teeth?” his friend teased.

  The youngsters turned to Devanorth for explanations, but it took a while before he decided to make the proper introductions.

  “Vroel is a half-breed, born of a vampire father and a human mother. He represents the last hybrid, or, at least, the last one whose identity is known. Over the centuries, he has gained important knowledge about magic and martial arts, which he prefers to use during the day, when his vampire powers are void. At night, however, he is even more formidable. His physical and mental characteristics are at least five times greater than those of a normal human: for the Star he represents an important part of the game.”

  The half-vampire looked rather pleased with the introduction.

  “Is it enough to get you under the spotlight?” asked Devanorth.

  “He considered me a piece of the chess game, I won’t forget it,” the other smiled. “You folks had better go to the inn before it’s too late. We don’t know who you might meet in the village streets at this time of night.”

  I don’t think I could marvel more, today,” the chosen one admitted.

  This time Selene smiled, despite trying to ignore him as she was doing all afternoon long.

  “Tomorrow morning we will begin training; I want you on the western bank of the lake as soon as the sun touches the sky. No delays are allowed.”

  As Devanorth and Vroel disappeared into the dark haze at the edge of the village, Viktor and Selene returned to the inn. The bard sang a melody with his violin, while the crowd was reduced by half and most were intent on snoring on the floor or on the tables.

  “Double room?” asked a short fat woman with a friendly yet tired expression.

  “That’s fine with me,” Viktor said, waiting for Selene to confirm. “Miss?” the innkeeper urged when he noticed the girl staring at a worn-out, neglected scroll, hanging on the wall behind her.

  The call of Mephis

  As if from water it required its presence,

  the lake from the sea claims it with magnificence.

  Prey of insatiable nature,

  It silently awaits the sunset of the infinite.

  “Excuse me, I was distracted by those verses. Anonymous?”

  “Oh, that…,” the innkeeper observed.

  Selene returned her attention to her interlocutor, who pointed to the bard on the other side of the room.

  “That bard ... dedicated this piece to the Lake of Mephis, but she preferred not to sign it. She’s a very discreet girl and she probably didn’t want to show off her verses”

  “What is the meaning of the poem?” Viktor asked, trying to understand the words on the wall.

  “I don’t know how it can be interpreted by the reader, but from what she told me when she wrote it, the poem has a double key to interpretation. “He who claims water from the sea” indicates the grandeur of the lake and its seniority. While in the last two verses we see the same lake forced to welcome water from the rivers forever, until the end of its life. Simply because when there is no more water, there will be no more life. A kind of natural condemnation, I don’t know if it’s all clear…”

  “Well, it is … more or less. The girl was really good, anyway,” Viktor concluded.

  She’s very soulful. Anyway, did we say… a double room?” replied the innkeeper, returning to the conversation that they had initially switched.

  “No, absolutely not,” Selene cut short.

  The innkeeper was perplexed by the way the girl had contradicted her friend.

  “Selene, there will be two separate beds in the room, like in Beleth … if that’s what’s worrying you,” Viktor said softly, his face grim.

  “I’m worried about having to see you in the same room as me. Now, excuse me, but it’s late and I’m tired.

  The innkeeper waited for the two to be silent before giving them two distinct keys. “The rooms are marked by the number on the key.”

  The two went up the stairs listening to the sweet and melodious sound of the bard’s violin slowly dying out, like the faint flame of a tired candle.

  TOO MUCH TO LEARN

  D awn didn’t take long to show itself.

  Sorry by how Selene had taken the discussion about the caravan, Viktor had done nothing but fidget all night long.

  However, he didn’t feel tired. Not yet.

  He quickly got ready and went downstairs; he had breakfast and proceeded through the streets of Placym, where people began to come out of the thresholds of the houses.

  The sky was radiated by celestial, red, and pink light.

  Arriving at the border of the village, he continued on the wooden walkway that was lowered to the mainland by the guards.

  He followed the shore of the lake, the water lapping at his boots.

  A light wind from the south touched his face and, immediately afterwards, a light to the left caught his attention. He turned.

  A swirl of lights in different shades of red danced on the water of the lake, reflecting the sunlight.

  Vroel, Devanorth, and, ahead of time, Selene were on the edge of the lake.

  “Good morning, Viktor,” said the lancer with a wave of his hand.

  Vroel greeted him bowing his head slightly, his arms folded waiting for a sign from Devanorth.

  When his companion gave him the green light, it was he who began the conversation. “Now that we are all here, we can begin. Assuming the girl is an exception, Viktor, we will lighten the sense of responsibility you feel towards her: we can see from a distance how much you care about her,” smiled the half vampire.

  At Vroel’s words, Viktor and Selene looked at each other for a moment; she immediately withdrew to focus her attention on the interlocutor.

  “Speaking to Selene shortly before, we have been told that one of her particular attitudes is about white magic and medical arts. So we will focus on this aspect,” Vroel suggested.

  Selene was enthusiastic about the idea of improving her life-long passion.

  “As for you, Viktor,” the mentor continued, “first of all you will be trained in the art of swordplay and magic. At the same time, we will work to sharpen your senses and the ones that are asleep: I’m curious to discover the latent abilities that the prophetic star saw in you. When we believe you are ready we’ll return to the Den, where the Master will tell you where to continue the training sessions”

  Viktor studied every single word Vroel said under the attentive gaze of Devanorth and Selene’s impatience.

  “Vroel, I don’t want to seem pretentious, but I think I’d be able to hit you in a duel even under my current conditions. I mean, you don’t want to underestimate me so mu
ch, do you?”

  Vroel looked at him intensely. “Did you hear, Dev? He’s right, we shouldn’t underestimate him so much. Launch Eren and Delir to us.”

  “Ready to make me eat my words, boy? Vroel asked sarcastically.

  “I didn’t mean that but … this is training too … isn’t it?

  “Obviously. Come on, the first move is yours, the half-blood urged.

  Viktor assumed the guarded position that Galaeth had shown him during the first and only lesson at the Den, then he hurled himself at Vroel.

  “Dodge!” Devanorth warned Selene, grabbing her hand and pushing her aside.

  Viktor raised his arm to hit the target with the cane, but just a span from his body, he fell on the sandy ground of the shore.

  The icy water impregnated most of his clothes, but he didn’t stop and he got up quickly to charge again.

  When even the second blow had almost arrived to the target, his cane was stopped by the one brandished by Vroel and the two found themselves face to face.

  The chosen one turned around and brought four more blows to Vroel, who only warded them off remaining firmly on the spot.

  When the chosen one began getting tired and lowered his guard, the half vampire took advantage of it to lean over and kick him in his ankle, making him fall to the ground.

  The young boy found himself disarmed and in pain.

  “Thanks, Dev,” Vroel said, launching the two canes to his friend. “How’s it going?” he then asked Viktor, holding out his hand.

  “It could have been much worse, as far as I know,” he answered grabbing it. “You used your out of the ordinary speed to avoid the first charge, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely not. With dawn I become a normal human, I didn’t use any tricks to divert your blow: you were just too convinced of yourself and in a battle this is never a positive factor. Determination mustn’t be confused with the conviction of winning. No, we leave that to the bold or the deluded.”

  Viktor grimaced and used the mentor’s hand to get up, but at that moment the latter called up a rune: “Sithra,” said Vroel, tightening his grip.