“See, I told you it was nothing. It must have been an owl or something.”
Fortunately for Chase, the guards didn’t seem to have heard the thump of his landing.
Inside the walls was beautifully landscaped. There wasn’t anybody out in the yard at that time so Chase quickly detached his gears from himself and moved forward. The bell tower was even taller up close. There were residents in that tower but they seemed mainly servants and guards, for no Osa would live in such a humble place. He ran behind a Maroa tree next to the tower. He climbed it so the shadow from the leaves would hide him. From the look of it, the tower had couple or so stories on the ground. The rest of the bell tower was a spiral staircase straight to the bells.
‘These first couple stories are probably occupied by the bell guards,’ Chase thought. The key here was stealth. No one should hear or see him.
Chase decided to skip the first couple stories and go directly to the stairs from the ground. The bell tower was built a lot sturdier with stones and his previous climbing equipment wouldn’t work on it. He just had to endure it and use the pulley rope. It would take a little longer but the Osa house didn’t seem to keep vigilant eyes on the inside of the property. He took out his ropes from his backpack and quietly jumped off the tree. Then he moved from bush to bush, keeping a low profile. He aimed at the opening of the tower that led directly to the stairs. Since the bell tower didn’t serve any other purpose than having the bells, no physical window had been installed. These openings on the side of the tower were going to be another doorway for Chase.
Chase threw the hook connected to the rope through one of the openings. It clicked against the wall as Chase pulled it taut. He made sure that it was secure and then climbed the surface of the tower.
When he came inside the tower, it was nothing but a long spiral staircase that connected the bells to the guards’ quarters on the ground. Even though it served a very important role in Moongrave City, because of its rare use, the tower had only what was absolutely necessary. The sterile environment was dark with only a few lights barely bright enough to give him a sense of how tall the tower was from the inside. From below him, he could hear the chatting of the guards. It was a relief that they were loud so they couldn’t hear him.
Chase ran up the stairs for a long time. The stairs came beneath him as though they were rolling under his feet, trying to push him off the track. The view before his eyes was so monotonous that he was feeling slightly disoriented. The topmost story of the tower, above which the bells hung, had a square door which leading to the bells.
If Chase got giddy from the height and fell from the stairs, he’d fall straight to the very bottom through the shaft of emptiness surrounded by the spiral staircase. The height didn’t bother Chase but what made him nervous was the prospect of finding the bell guards beyond this square door. It would be troublesome, if the guards spotted him cracking the door open. He swallowed hard and looked around himself. There was no way he could escape this tower out of the Osa property without getting caught, if the guards happened to make commotions.
Chase grabbed his collapsible blow gun. Whoever was up there would immediately have to fall asleep when he opened the door. His heart in his mouth, Chase cracked the square door open just enough for his eyes. As Chase had dreaded, the door creaked and the two guards who were guarding the bells instantly looked to Chase’s direction. Chase’s peeking eyes met with the guards’. With his heart pounding madly in his ears, Chase blew out his blow darts just as instantly as they had spotted him.
“Argh,” the bell guards yelped as the blow darts lodged inside their flanks. When the guards pulled the darts out and looked at them, the poison had already been injected. It was a nerve paralyzing poison whose effect was transient, but was one of the most fast-acting formulas Chase had. The guards shuffled with great endeavor and fell straight on their faces to the floor.
Checking the surroundings carefully, Chase came up through the door into the open air, caged by geometric beams that held the bells. On the floor there was a lever that would move all the bell hammers.
Chase set up his pulley apparatus on the beam for a quick escape and then took off the guard’s clothes. Chase’s clothes were wet from swimming through the moat earlier and he reckoned that the guard’s uniform might be useful.
“You will be okay by tomorrow, I think,” Chase said to the guards who were paralyzed from head to toe.
Everything was good now. He was ready for it now. He pushed the lever five times. The hammers struck the bells and their loud, clear sounds reverberated throughout the city.
Moongrave City was visibly responding to the sounds. One by one, windows lit up and some came out their doors to check out what was going on. Now, Chase’s duty here was done. Chase quickly wrapped his foot around the rope and grabbed it with one hand, while the other hand controlled the other side of the rope over the pulley. He let gravity take him down. After he had landed, he yanked the rope from the beam to retrieve it.
Soon, the front gates of the Osa property opened up. Until they investigated and let everyone in charge know that it was a fake alarm, the door guards would do what they’d been trained to do: open the gates and let people into the bunker. People were already entering the gates now. Five strikes meant there was a natural disaster severe enough to jeopardize the citizens’ safety and even though there was obviously no apparent change in the environment, people automatically left their houses and rushed to the Osa house. Nobody checked the people’s identities. This was perfect for him. The darkness of the night covered him up and he could safely move from the bell tower to the front gate, hopping from one bush to another. Then he blended in the crowd.
‘You made this way more complicated than it should have been,’ Chase thought as if he was speaking to the girl in his head, ‘I will catch you no matter what.’ Chase followed others through the stairs that opened up beneath the ground.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Your neck is open. Swing your sword with your hips, not just with your arms! Look at his blade, not at his face!”
Master Boone was yelling at the two princes in the royal training field. From the past, there was a Sarumese proverb that even the king had a teacher. This meant that a learner was always below a teacher and had to treat him with the utmost respect. It wasn’t true that the king actually had a teacher per se. He had the Sages as his advisors, but the princes did have teachers, who ranked higher than the princes without interacting with other nobles to discuss any of domestic or international affairs. Their sole duty was to teach, nothing else.
Master Boone was the princes’ trainer who was the only person who didn’t use honorifics to address the princes when teaching. He believed formality between a trainer and his students hindered fluid communication.
Prince Ian and Prince Dorian were dueling with each other. Ian was about two years older than Dorian and was also a much better swordsman, but Dorian was not a sort to give up. Their wooden swords pierced the air to jab at each other. Ian was turning into a man now, but Dorian wasn’t quite at that stage yet. Naturally, Ian had physical dominance over his little brother; he had longer reach, more strength that delivered powerful blows and more years of training.
Ian fended off Dorian’s well-delivered attack to his flank and quickly slammed Dorian’s thigh, flowing from his defense move. Dorian yelped in pain. The wooden swords might not cut but they could certainly bruise and in some cases break a bone. Ian was fast and smooth. He seemed to know instinctively the best next move. There was an easy flow to his style that Dorian couldn’t mimic. Dorian backed up, pointing his sword toward Ian’s chest. Ian lowered his stance and struck his sword to Dorian’s, pushing it backward with a loud noise, opening Dorian’s torso for another attack.
“Too big of a swing! Don’t hold your sword so far away from your pivot when you know your opponent is stronger than you!” Master Boone yelled. Ian darted close to Dorian with his sword raised at an angle, ready to slash his little b
rother’s chest, but Dorian this time turned his torso away from Ian, dodging the attack with a narrow margin.
“Don’t turn around and be happy that you dodged it. Transition it into your next move!” Master Boone yelled at Dorian but Ian already approached Dorian, this time aiming for the arm. Ian hit it very hard, which disabled Dorian from fighting any longer.
“That was a good match. Both of you have improved. Ian, remember that the more you use your body when you swing your sword, the more powerful it will be, but the harder it becomes for you to transition it into your next move. You always have to find the middle ground between your striking power and defense,” Master Boone said. “Dorian, I see a lot of improvement in you but you need to practice like this is a real fight. Your enemy won’t let you take a breath after you dodge their attacks. They will bombard you with a chain of attacks and you either need to dodge them all or poke through their weak spots when they swing around their weapons.”
“I know, but once I get hit, it’s hard to maintain my stance,” Dorian answered, annoyed that he kept making the same mistake.
Dorian looked just like Sadie. He got her light brown hair and hazel eyes. Sadie usually had her full wavy hair braided with strands of golden threads or gemstone clips, the traditional way the queen wore her hair, but Dorian didn’t have her wavy locks. He had relatively thin, straight hair, which he got from Klaiser, but just the color from Sadie. Sadie and Dorian both had little button noses and very prominent jaw lines. These gave Dorian a strong, charismatic vibe and Sadie a regal charm which suited her well as a queen.
On the other hand, Ian resembled Klaiser more than Sadie. He had that pallid countenance, long, veiny limbs, and the slim body which resulted also from a lack of appetite. He was also more reserved than Dorian, and their differences both in their looks and personalities seemed to have caused a rivalry, though it was always Dorian, the younger of them, who openly displayed this.
Ian wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Let’s do one more round, this time with Vito,” Dorian said in his cheekiness. Dorian hated losing. When he was to compete like this, he wouldn’t want to end it until he won. Ian was definitely superior to Dorian in terms of skills but Dorian had more endurance. Dorian knew that too.
“There won’t be another match between you two today. But if you want, you will have one with me,” Master Boone said.
Dorian rolled his eyes, not sure if he wanted to agree to it.
“Give me a little break, then I will do it,” Ian said to Master Boone, as he received the cold water his servant handed him. Ian never got too excited, never raised his voice or lost his calm. When the princes were little, they used to genuinely like each other, often playing hide and seek in the palace, but now they were old enough to know that their fates didn’t overlap. Both Ian and Dorian were aware that once either one of them got chosen as the heir to the throne, the other would have to leave the palace, the only place in whole Sarum that they knew.
Both princes had very seldom left the palace. It was strongly discouraged and Sadie scolded them for leaving the palace without a good reason. When they were younger, they used to dress as commoners in worn dirty clothes and go outside the palace. They bought little cheap toys made out of sticks and rubber bands from the market and enjoyed street food together. Everything outside the palace was so different; people didn’t care to speak properly, they screamed and laughed on the streets, all the kids were friends with one another… it was just a lot more vibrant and liberating.
One day, Ian and Dorian were playing ball with other kids just outside the marketplace. The kids were about at Ian’s and Dorian’s ages and didn’t bother to ask them about their backgrounds. Their names were all the kids cared to know. Everyone was there simply to play.
Playing with the kids who weren’t afraid to knock them down was exhilarating. Back in the palace, everyone treated them like adults, and they couldn’t have friends. Sometimes noble’s children would come and play with them, but they were too afraid that they might hurt Ian and Dorian. Life outside the palace was refreshing in that respect. These kids on the street wouldn’t care if Ian and Dorian kept losing a game. They would always do their best, as did Ian and Dorian. They could all be playful children.
The fun didn’t last very long. Their game ended shortly, when the guards had showed up. The princes had no idea how the guards knew where they were.
“Stop right at this moment! How dare you put your dirty feet before them! Do you know who these are? These are Prince Ian and Prince Dorian!” The guard leader came out, savagely pushing the kids around the princes. The guards were menacingly big and fully armed. The kids started crying.
“We need to go back to the palace, Your Grace. The queen has ordered us to bring Your Grace to the palace immediately.”
“What do you think you are doing? These are my friends, and you won’t treat them this way in front of me! Apologize to them now!” Ian yelled at the guard leader but he didn’t comply. Two of the guards approached the princes and lifted them over their shoulders and carried them out by force. Ian and Dorian kicked and struggled but they couldn’t get out of the guards’ grip.
After this incident, Ian and Dorian went out of the palace just couple more times to realize that they were constantly watched, that they could never be free from the palace, and that they weren’t welcome there anymore outside the palace. Dorian kept encouraging Ian not to care about Sadie or how fearful the kids acted after that, but Ian seemed to have lost his interest in doing anything with Dorian. Ian stopped talking much at all after that, and Dorian hadn’t seen him laugh again since then. Perhaps Ian grew up or grew tired of getting in trouble for being adventurous. Perhaps Ian was blaming Dorian for being caught. Dorian had no idea. He was worried at first but it soon turned into disappointment. To Dorian, Ian’s change in attitude was his surrender to authority, their mother and the rules of the palace, but strangely everyone seemed to respect Ian more for this change. Ian chose to please others, giving up on what he liked.
‘You act all mature and reserved but in reality, you are just a coward, you didn’t stand for what you thought was right and you gave in under pressure.’ Dorian stared at Ian bitterly. He hated to admit it but he was hurt and confused. They used to be the best friends. They used to do everything together. ‘Now all the nobles are discussing who’s going to be the king between you and me. Is that why you cold-shoulder me? Is that why my favorite brother has disappeared forever, because you want to be the king, and drive me away from the palace?’ Dorian thought.
Oblivious to Dorian’s thoughts, Ian gulped down the cold water and sat down on one of the seats placed around the training field. Ian always looked so unaffected, so calm, and so hard to reach.
‘Is that how a king should be?’ Dorian gazed at Ian intently.
Master Boone came over and put his hand on Dorian’s shoulder. When Dorian looked up, Master Boone was looking at Ian just as Dorian was a minute ago.
“Don’t feel anxious. Your opponent is within yourself. Don’t look elsewhere. Just go with your belief,” he said gently, not as a teacher but as a sincere adviser. Dorian didn’t say anything. Master Boone gave his shoulder an encouraging tap. “Do you want to duel with me?” Master Boone asked, again back to the usual stern teacher he was. Dorian nodded. “Discard your sword. As you requested, you are allowed to use Vito but I will use it too.”
“Okay.”
“Come, then.” Master Boone lowered his stance.
The royal blood had been notorious for its lack of Vito. Everyone was born with a varying amount of Vito, some more than others perhaps, but the Sarumese royals for centuries hadn’t produced a person with decent Vito. It increased one’s ability depending on how he trained to use it, how much he had it, how synchronized it was with him, and what type he was.
There were four different types of Vito known today: Self-generator (Generator for short), Ambient Absorber (Absorber for short), Distributor, and Parasitic Abso
rber (Parasite for short). Self-generating type, as it was named, could generate Vito in his body. Self-generated Vito was highly synchronized with the user, which meant it was easier for him to use it at his will. Ambient Absorbing type could draw in the Vito from the surroundings within a certain range and absorb it into his body. The range of absorption varied greatly for each user, as well as its synchronization and its absorption rate. Distributors could spread the synchronized Vito in his body out to the space without losing the synchronization. As with Ambient Absorber, Distributors also varied in their ranges and their distribution rates. Parasitic Absorbers could steal someone’s Vito, desynchronize it, and then absorb it into their bodies. Even though these were extremely rare in humans, it was reported that there were some capable of absorbing Vito parasitically.
One could have many overlaps among these types. One could be a dominant Ambient Absorber with a bit of Self-generating and Distributing, or a dominant Generator with a bit of Absorbing and Distributing, and so on. However, it was extremely hard to excel in more than one type, which was why people often labeled a person with just one type.
Neripha - Part 1 Page 6